"Who is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?" Cecilia demanded.
A hoarse voice crackled down the line. "This isn't a joke, little Cecilia." The name—little Cecilia—hit her like an ice shard. No one had called her that in a long time.
"Is your father even alive? A truck ran the wrong way on the highway—he must be pulverized, right?"
At that, Cecilia's pupils shrank to pinpoints. Rage tore through her. She spat his name like a curse. "Bruno!"
Memories surged back like tidal waves. The only man who could have that level of hatred for her was Bruno.
Bruno had been a partner at Vincent's firm—Greedy, scheming, and vile. Cecilia and Vincent had once worked together to expose his schemes and push him out of the shareholders' circle.
She'd thought it over. She'd thought he'd be gone for good. She never expected him to come back—let alone strike at her family.
"It's me. You remember me now?" Bruno's voice was triumphant on the other end.
Cecilia scoffed coldly. "What trick are you playing this time?"
A cruel laugh filled the line. "The best is yet to come. You and Vincent toyed with me and ruined my life—I'm going to take everything back. You, and all of MAPLE Co., will burn."
"You've got guts—come at me alone if you're so brave!" Cecilia shouted, clutching the phone. "You staged an accident—hurting people on purpose. Aren't you afraid I'll call the police?"
Her sharp, high voice cut through him like a blade. For a second it stalled Bruno—but then he laughed, crazed and feral. "Go ahead and try. I'll make the people around you suffer worse than you can imagine."
A chill ran down Cecilia's spine. Anger quickly drained into cold fear. Bruno was dangerous—reckless enough to drag anyone into his wreckage.
"Bruno—if you have any honor, come after me. Why involve innocent people?" Her voice trembled more from dread than from anger.
"Words are meaningless. The crash was just the appetizer. The real show is coming. Wait and see."
The line went dead.
Cecilia stood at the window, stunned, phone trembling in her right hand until the doctor's hand landed on her shoulder.
"Are you a relative of Mr. Shen?" the doctor asked gently.
"Yes—" Cecilia snapped back to herself. Her lips were numb from the cold and fear, but she forced a brittle smile and asked, "How is my father?"
"The odds were low," the doctor said, voice careful. "Right now he's being maintained by a ventilator. We recommend transferring him to a hospital with more advanced trauma care as soon as possible."
Those words struck like thunder. Cecilia felt the floor tilt under her. "What do you mean—what happened to my father?"
"We did what we could, but the injuries are severe. Even with successful surgery, his bodily functions may never recover. Long-term rehabilitation will be extraordinarily expensive. You need to consider your options."
It was like being lowered into an ice cellar. Cecilia closed her eyes and prayed—silent, private prayers—that this was all a nightmare.
Her phone buzzed in her palm. For a moment she assumed it was Bruno again; the heat of anger flared back up and she hit the accept button without thinking.
"I'll report you to the police—" she began, voice fierce. "I won't let you get away with this. If you only dare come after me, you'll pay. But if you dare harm innocent people—"
A woman's sharp voice cut through the line. The signal stuttered and warped.
Blaze froze beside her, every muscle tensing as he heard the voice through the handset. "What did you say?" he blurted.
Hearing Blaze's voice, Cecilia froze. She glanced at the call screen and hurriedly corrected herself, "N—nothing."
The woman's voice on the line had a heavy nasal edge, and wind howled in the background as if she were standing by an open window. The sound made Blaze's gut clench. "Where are you? What happened?" he demanded.
Cecilia's throat tightened. After a long beat she managed, "I'm at Central City Hospital… my father was in an accident."
About half an hour later, Blaze arrived at the hospital in a hurry.
From down the corridor he could already see a small, curled-up figure at the far end. She sat with her arms wrapped around her knees, her curled hair splayed lifeless on the tiles. Helpless and fragile—her silhouette stabbed straight into Blaze's chest, and he found himself striding toward her before he could stop it.
"How is he?" he asked.
Cecilia had just checked her bank balance. What was left would barely cover another transfer—certainly not the cost of a second hospital transfer.
Seeing her stay silent, Blaze almost reached out to lift her from the floor, then stopped—something in him balked—and his hand froze in midair before he slowly drew it back.
"And… about what we talked about," he continued, "have you decided?"
Cecilia inhaled sharply and lifted her head. Her eyes were blank with bewilderment.
"Do you want MAPLE Co. to go bankrupt?" she heard herself think, crushed by a sudden, flaring despair. Why did it feel like everyone was against her? Was the world set up to test her at every step?
"No. I— I'll do it," she said.
Her lips twisted into a smile that was uglier than crying. "Do I have any other choice? If you save my father, I'll agree to anything."
Blaze paused, then stepped forward and scooped her up into his arms, carrying her out of the hospital and into the car.
The heater blew warm air into the cabin, driving the chill from her skin, but Cecilia still trembled—the tremor of a deeper, more desperate fear clawing up from inside her. Once a heart went cold, it was hard to warm again.
"I'll arrange for people to handle your father's treatment," Blaze said.
"Thank you…" she whispered.
He draped a coat—still holding the scent of a man—over her shoulders. Cecilia blinked, stunned, and then repeated the word in a lower, steadier voice. "Thank you."
Blaze met her gratitude with indifference; a shadow of displeasure flickered through his deep eyes. "Don't say those words again," he said flatly.
To him, their bond was nothing more than a transaction—cold, calculated, and void of compassion. He despised the humility in her thanks. She could feel it, and the knowledge pinched at her like a bruise.
Cecilia smoothed a strand of hair behind her ear and forced a wry, helpless smile.
The car eased into motion. Dawn was paling the horizon when she stared out at the dim light and asked quietly, "Where are we going?"
Blaze tilted his head and looked at her with an expression she couldn't read. "I'm going to make sure you never forget the words you said."
The car crawled into the city just as the morning rush hit. Around seven or eight, traffic was a chaotic mess. The driver slowly eased the car into a quiet alley. Before long, Blaze's assistant came running from the end of the lane. The car window cracked open, and two documents were slid inside.
Cecilia blinked, staring at them blankly. It took a moment before she realized what they were.
Blaze flipped through the papers, then tossed them into her lap without a word. His gaze was icy. "Keep them safe."
Cecilia absentmindedly fingered the edges, head bowed, silent.
Blaze's eyes flicked to the light swirl of her hair at the nape of her neck. He let out a quiet snort. This woman, acting so unfamiliar with the documents—didn't she already marry someone else? Hadn't she seen a Marriage Certificate before?
Playing the helpless act to get his sympathy, was she?
"Keep your… contract," Blaze said, voice sharp, his brows knitting into a cold arc. Every word dripped with sarcasm. "Mrs. Diego."
Cecilia froze for a moment, then, after a pause, carefully opened the documents before her.