After the plane touched down in the capital, the first thing Xavier Foster did was call Mia Moore. It seemed highly likely that Cecilia was with her.
At that moment, Mia Moore was outside in the courtyard watering the Confederate rose bushes. Cecilia’s words about Charles Chase’s gardening skills turned out to be true—the flowers he planted really did look vibrant and healthy.
It was still rather cold out. She wouldn’t let Cecilia Ye do this sort of thing, so Cecilia had to settle for making coffee for Mia Moore inside the house. Ever since she found out she was pregnant, she’d given up coffee, milk tea, and all sorts of random snacks. The only thing she could do was sneak a whiff of the aroma when making coffee for Mia Moore, satisfying her cravings just a little.
The moment the hose was put down, the phone on the little table in the garden began to ring.
A strange number. Mia Moore shook the water off her hands and, puzzled, pressed ‘answer’.
“Hello? Who is this?”
She tugged at her sleeve and, as she headed in, the cold wind brushed over her damp hands, a little chilly.
“Mia Moore.”
The annoying voice on the other end was immediately recognizable. She stopped, glanced at the floor-to-ceiling window to see Cecilia Ye making coffee, then turned to walk toward the corner of the garden.
“Xavier Foster? What do you want? We’re not that close, are we?”
She harrumphed inwardly.
The tall, poised man was still standing on the private airport tarmac. Henry Hart stood several paces away from him.
“I don’t want to waste time. Where is Cecilia?”
Unbothered by Mia Moore’s tone, Xavier Foster went straight to the point.
“Ha! President Foster, not only do you have money and power, you sure are thick-skinned too—you actually come to me to ask about your own wife.”
Mia Moore was furious. Did Xavier Foster really not know what he’d done? And now he dared look for Cecilia? Hands on her hips, Mia Moore was ready to let him have it.
“Didn’t you already make the trending list, President Foster? Even I saw it. Lost your own wife and went out parading around with some fake white lotus—unbelievable.”
Xavier Foster’s grip on the phone was turning his knuckles white. He had no intention of arguing with Mia Moore—he just wanted to find Cecilia Ye.
“What happened before was my fault. I’ll make it up to Cecilia. Where is she?”
“I don’t know, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you. Hmph! Why let you hurt her again? Xavier Foster, do you even have a conscience? Do you know how much Cecilia has suffered? And you still have the nerve to look for her.”
Xavier Foster couldn’t refute that. After all, it really was his fault. “Had enough venting? If not, go on—once you’re done, just tell me where she is.”
Mia Moore was momentarily stunned. Was this guy completely out of his mind or what? Well, considering everything he’d done, she didn’t care.
“She’s gone. Gone abroad to Country Y. If you’ve got the skills, go find her—men in Country Y are all pretty handsome. Our Cecilia’s probably off enjoying herself with one of those cute foreigners. Why don’t you just rot along with your ‘pure’ Bai Yu?”
“Cecilia isn’t in Country Y. I just returned from there. She never boarded the plane. Last I checked, she was with you. Mia Moore, are the Jiang family really planning on going head-to-head with the Fu Group?”
Mia Moore’s brows knitted tightly. So Xavier Foster had really gone to Country Y. Then she heard the implied threat in his words. Tch. She’d never seen anyone so shameless!
“So this is how you bully Cecilia, huh? Always using threats and manipulation. No wonder she left you. Do whatever you want—I’m not telling you anything!”
The Jiang family might not be able to match the Fu family in business, but her brother wasn’t exactly easy to mess with either.
Inside, Cecilia Ye peeked out at the garden and saw Mia Moore on the phone. She brought the coffee outside.
“Xavier Foster, you’ll never find Cecilia. Regret this for the rest of your life! If you care about her at all, do her a favor and leave her alone. Stop forcing her!”
With that, she angrily hung up.
She turned to see Cecilia Ye had just come out of the house, her face a little stiff, but inwardly breathing a sigh of relief that the call had ended quickly enough.
Seeing Mia Moore’s mood, Cecilia Ye handed her the coffee, concerned. “What’s wrong? Who got you so upset?”
Mia Moore wanted to say, ‘That jerk Xavier Foster,’ but held back. Cecilia didn’t need to know about this. Still, she realized Cecilia couldn’t stay here anymore or Xavier Foster would eventually find her.
“It’s nothing, just an idiot who dialed the wrong number, trying to sell me something.”
She hesitated, then added, “Also, Cecilia, remember the school’s oil painting teacher? They’ve asked me to substitute for a while. I might not be able to stay with you these days.”
Mia Moore was uneasy about leaving Cecilia alone, but had no choice.
Cecilia Ye took her hand, leading them inside with a smile. “Go do your thing, I’ll be fine on my own. Come on—too cold out here.”
“Okay.”
Behind her, Mia Moore let out a long breath. This was how Cecilia should be—happy, free...
Never again bullied by Xavier Foster.
...
Staring at the ended call, Xavier Foster instantly understood that Mia Moore definitely knew where Cecilia was.
He rubbed his brow as the wind whipped at his coat on the tarmac.
Mia Moore’s words were harsh but true—it was his own fault that he’d lost Cecilia, and now he was shamelessly trying to get her back.
He cared. He cared about Cecilia Ye—it just took him far too long to realize.
Every time she’d been hurt, every time he saw her hold her grievances in, that odd pull in his heart—that was him caring.
His impatience and irritation with Bai Yu—it all stemmed from guilt over Cecilia.
He was a fool. Helpless and slow, only ever venting his frustrations by hurting Cecilia.
Xavier Foster’s expression grew darker. At last, he turned and said, “Back to the office.”
...
Days passed. Henry Hart tracked Mia Moore’s routine to the Art Academy, where she was serving as a substitute lecturer. A few people trailed her, but never found a single instance of contact with Madam.
Xavier Foster worked later and later. Other than checking once a day with Henry Hart for any news of Cecilia Ye, he spent all his time at work, never even going home.
Outwardly, he was still the high-and-mighty president of the Fu Group.
But only he knew he was close to losing his mind.
All because of Cecilia Ye.
He was hardly sleeping. Without Cecilia’s presence beside him, anxiety gnawed at him—he was exhausted, body and soul, yet he couldn’t find rest.
It was like he’d spent ten days stranded under the blazing sun, parched for water.
He needed Cecilia Ye. He wanted her back, to have her by his side again.
He wanted, as before, to wake up every morning with her in his arms, her sleeping face the first thing he saw.
In the past ten years, he’d never once thought Cecilia Ye might leave.
He’d never considered what life would be like without her.