Chapter 46: Before Dinner
The faint clink of a porcelain cup against its saucer broke the silence. The living room was washed in the mellow glow of the evening lamps, soft shadows pooling at the edges of the space. Yichen sat on a single sofa, his long legs crossed loosely, posture composed yet taut with something unspoken. Celia sat across from him, relaxed but with a trace of curiosity in her eyes.
Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she broke the stillness.
"Well, there are still two weeks before the New Year, so technically the agreement hasn't ended." Her tone was calm, almost teasing, but her eyes sharpened slightly as she tilted her head. "But why do you want to cut it short now?"
Yichen's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. He lowered his gaze to the untouched tea in his hand, the reflection of his face rippling faintly on the amber liquid. For a moment, he said nothing, as though weighing how much truth to allow her.
Finally, his voice came—low, steady, and stripped of warmth.
"My old man found out about us. And I'm afraid he would harm you… and Andre… in any way he can." His eyes lifted, pinning her with a look as cold and sharp as tempered steel, yet beneath it was a current of something graver, something heavier.
Celia's composure faltered. Her hand froze mid-gesture as the words sank in.
"What? He… he found out?" She blinked rapidly, confusion knitting her brows. "But how? How could he possibly—?"
"Yes," Yichen cut her off, voice still calm but with a shadowed weight behind it. "And he's determined to crush me if I don't bend to his will."
The shock in her face deepened, her lips parting. "Which is…?"
He exhaled slowly, almost a bitter laugh caught in his throat. "Get married. To a woman. He's against my sexuality—and he's not subtle about his methods."
"Wow." Celia sank back into her chair, stunned. "He's really serious, isn't he?" A faint scoff escaped her. "But isn't he going overboard? This is the twenty-first century. Anyone can love who they want—man or woman. I wouldn't even have a problem if my Ani turned out liking men, seriously." She spoke lightly, almost flippantly, but the sincerity was there in her tone.
Yichen stared at her, silent. Something unreadable flickered in his eyes—disbelief, maybe even a strange ache. She says it so easily… and yet my own bloodline would rather destroy me than accept the truth. His thoughts curled darkly inward, his face a perfect mask.
Celia noticed his silence and tilted her head, curiosity peeking through. "Well… how are you so sure he'd harm us?" she asked carefully.
Yichen's gaze hardened, the chill in his eyes enough to freeze the air between them.
"Because he's done it before. To someone I cared about." The words were clipped, absolute, and enough to silence further doubt. He didn't elaborate, and Celia didn't press—not when his tone carried the edge of an old, festering wound.
She exhaled slowly, processing. "Woah…" She shook her head, then offered a small, pragmatic smile. "Well, I guess that means we end the deal earlier than planned. Hopefully, this doesn't affect the agreement?"
"Not at all," Yichen replied evenly. "You'll get what I promised you. And… thank you, Celia." His voice softened, a flicker of genuine gratitude threading through the cold composure.
"Oh, it's nothing," she said with an easy wave of her hand. "You're a good person, Yichen. And my friend. I'd do this again if I had to." Her expression shifted, worry clouding her eyes. "But… are you safe from him? Your grandfather, I mean. If he's this determined—"
"I'm fine." Yichen cut in, voice like polished steel. "Back then, I had nothing. But now…" His lips curved faintly, though it wasn't a smile. "Now, I have enough power to par with him. He can't control me anymore."
"Well, that's good to hear." Celia brightened slightly, relief softening her face. "I'm happy you can finally breathe freely." Her gaze lingered on him for a beat, the corners of her lips lifting in a fond smile. He had always reminded her of a younger brother, cold on the outside, carrying storms on the inside. Helping him hadn't been a burden—it felt right. Still, her thoughts drifted to Andre.
Lately, her son had grown distant, his once not so warm demeanor cooling into something sharper, quieter. Maybe it's just rebellion, she reasoned. Teenagers… But deep down, something told her it was more than that.
"Well," she said suddenly, breaking from her thoughts, "we should both explain this to Andre. Over dinner. Tonight."
The tea cup in Yichen's hand stilled mid-air. His head turned slowly, his expression blank—but his voice carried a trace of disbelief.
"…Us?"
"Yes, us, Yichen," Celia replied firmly, leaving no room for argument. "You know how Andre felt when I told him we'd be moving here for my marriage. Now imagine telling him it was all for nothing. Do you know how he'd take it? I can't do that alone. We're both explaining this."
Yichen's eyes narrowed slightly, though his face remained an elegant mask. "What resentment?" His voice was calm, but a flicker of something—sharp, fleeting—passed through his gaze.
"Oh, don't play dumb," Celia said with a small laugh. "I know my son. He clearly resents you. And I think it's because he feels you took me away from him. Don't be upset—before you came along, it was me and him against the world." Her voice softened as a tender smile curved her lips. "You know… after I left his father, he was so cold toward Andre. And my boy… he still tried to protect me, even when he was this small…" She held her hand low, eyes clouded with memories.
Yichen was silent, letting her words linger in the space between them. His gaze lowered briefly before he spoke, tone smooth, indifferent.
"Well. If you insist, we'll tell him together. Let me freshen up first."
He rose fluidly, setting the cup down. But before he could leave, Celia called softly, "Yichen."
He paused, turning slightly, a faint crease of curiosity between his brows.
"After Andre finishes school here, we'll go back to Italy." Her voice was calm, but it landed like a quiet blade.
Something inside him stilled. For a moment, he couldn't speak. The thought of Andre leaving—permanently—lodged like a thorn in his chest. They belonged to two different worlds, didn't they? His was darkness, and Andre's… Andre had always been light. At least, he still had Celia.
"Alright," he said finally, his tone so even it gave nothing away. "I'll find you a good apartment. Somewhere safe here, where even my grandfather can't reach you."
Celia's lips curved into a grateful smile. "Hm. Thank you, Yichen. For everything. Even if this started as an agreement, you took care of us so well. I'm grateful—for me and my son. I'm happy he got to experience what a good father… and a real family… feels like." Her voice trembled slightly at the end, eyes glistening with quiet emotion.
Guilt coiled like smoke in Yichen's chest. If only she knew… if only she understood what lay beneath the surface of this fragile arrangement. His expression didn't change, but his voice was quieter when he said,
"…It's fine."
Celia smiled warmly, oblivious to the shadows behind his calm eyes. "Well, let me start on dinner. Andre should be back soon. Go freshen up, alright?" She rose, her steps light as she moved toward the kitchen, humming softly to herself.
Yichen stood there for a long moment, watching her retreating figure. His jaw clenched once before his gaze shifted—cold, distant, but burning with something deep and unspoken.
'Tonight will be a long night,' he thought, turning silently and walking toward his bedroom.