It was Magee Channing's birthday—a grand, extravagant affair. Cecilia didn't belong in such circles. But as a daughter, despite the cold distance she had maintained with her father over the years, it was only proper to attend and offer her congratulations. She had intended just to give her gift, say her words, and leave. But after a single sip of juice, everything changed.
Once she left the banquet hall, Cecilia felt utterly wrong. Her body swayed, and she rushed to the restroom, splashing cold water on her face again and again. Yet the dizziness and feverish heat only intensified. Deep down, she knew something was terribly wrong. Panicking, she bolted from the restroom, desperate to escape this den of chaos.
But her mind was hazy. She couldn't remember where she went. She only recalled grabbing someone, begging for help… and then nothing.
When she finally regained consciousness, her innocence had been taken. The man who had violated her was gone.
Soon after, a video surfaced online, showing her entering a hotel room with a man. The footage was blurry, but someone posted photos of her at Magee Channing's birthday party—her outfit, hairstyle, shoes, even the bag she carried—all unmistakably identifying her.
The identity of the man? Unknown. Dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, his posture tall and confident… but so many men wore white shirts and black trousers. Later, Magee Channing, enraged, demanded to know who the man was, clearly intending to make him pay.
Cecilia insisted she didn't know. Even if she did, she wouldn't reveal it. She wasn't low enough to use such a scandal to trap someone into marriage.
Everything spiraled out of control. She was slandered online, her fiancé Gerald furiously called off their engagement, and Renata, in tears, used her only savings to send Cecilia to study in Australia. And now, Renata was gravely ill.
That summed up the turbulent twenty-six years of Cecilia's life. Words like "melodramatic" or "tragic" could barely capture it.
Yet, no matter how chaotic or heartbreaking life became, it went on. Cecilia always believed that there was no obstacle she couldn't overcome.
Meanwhile, Bert, seeing Lilian gag, immediately rushed over without a second thought. Lilian, now over two months pregnant, was experiencing her first bouts of morning sickness.
Today was Lilian's prenatal checkup. Originally, Morrison was supposed to accompany her, but Bert insisted on coming along as well. Morrison was immediately displeased.
"My wife is going for a checkup—I should be with her. What business do you have tagging along? And really, do we need two grown men here?"
Bert remained unfazed.
"She's my sister. How is me coming along bothering you?"
Morrison was speechless, yet helpless. When it came to these two, he had no leverage—Lilian, because he loved her too much, and Bert, because Bert simply couldn't be persuaded or pushed around. And now Bert was insisting on being present. In the end, Morrison gave up arguing.
Later, Lilian went for her ultrasound. Morrison accompanied her inside, while Bert waited outside.
"Feeling better?" Bert asked gently, stroking her back. His eyes quickly darted around for Morrison, and when he didn't see him, anger flared. How could Morrison leave her alone like this, especially when she was feeling so unwell?
Lilian, still dealing with early pregnancy nausea, managed a small smile.
"The doctor prescribed some nutritional supplements. He went to pay for them and pick them up. It was stuffy inside, so I came out."
Just then, Morrison appeared, worry etched across his face, carrying the bag of supplements. Seeing Lilian being supported by Bert, he let out a long, relieved breath. He hadn't realized how panicked he'd felt until seeing her safe. In hindsight, letting Bert come along wasn't such a bad idea.
Seeing Morrison approach, Bert released Lilian, letting Morrison hold her instead.
"How are the results?" Bert asked, his gaze subtly flicking toward the flowerbed where Cecilia had been moments before—but now there was no one there.
Lilian smiled brightly at him.
"All good. The doctor said everything's normal."
Bert returned his gaze forward and nodded lightly.
"Good. That's what matters."
Lilian said softly,
"Bert, the checkup's all done. Go ahead and get back to work—you just started your studio, it's the busiest time."
After Lilian's wedding, Bert had officially moved back to Burg Eltz and set up his own design studio.
His company in the U.S. was still running, but he no longer spent every day there. He made periodic trips to oversee operations, and with his mother, he made an effort to visit regularly. Their relationship wasn't particularly close; they rarely saw eye to eye on anything. Even when he was in the U.S., they had seldom met.
His mother had no objections to him returning. At her age, she had her own social circle and friends in America, and moving back to Burg Eltz didn't appeal to her.
As for Bert, he insisted on coming back because he cherished everything here—
The bond between siblings, the family warmth he'd never truly experienced. He envied the closeness between Dave and Lilian. While he couldn't be as uninhibited as a true sibling with them, at least he wasn't entirely alone here.
The Burg Eltz studio was now fully operational, focusing on high-end design projects.
Hearing Lilian's words, Bert didn't linger. He glanced at them briefly and said,
"I'll get going then. Call me if you need anything."
He turned and left, heading to interview two designers.
Morrison watched his back with a sigh.
"So, he's officially settling in Burg Eltz now?"
Morrison wondered why Bert had to come back from America to settle here. It was frustrating enough as it was.
Lilian let out a playful hum.
"What? You're not happy about it?"
She knew Morrison and Bert never got along, and she couldn't resist teasing him.
Morrison responded with a sour tone,
"Of course I'm happy. I welcome him with open arms."
Lilian laughed, looping her arm around his waist.
"Well, then show some sincerity. You'll have to introduce clients to my bert in the future."
She couldn't help thinking about Bert's prospects. With Morrison's influence in Burg Eltz, coupled with Dave's support, Bert's studio was bound to grow quickly.
It wasn't that Lilian doubted Bert's talent—she had seen it firsthand in the U.S. If he weren't capable, he wouldn't have won designer awards, and his company would have failed. But with the backing of the MoS family and Burg Eltz, success would come faster.
In previous years, Bert might have been distracted by struggles with Dave, but now he had set aside all distractions, focusing entirely on design and business. The results over the past two years spoke for themselves: Bert had made a name in the design world, and his studio was thriving.
Morrison frowned, looping his arm around Lilian's waist, protesting,
"Hey, aren't you elbowing me out of the way?"
Lilian tilted her head and explained,
"No, not at all. My last name's still Washington. He's my brother, and we're family too. So it doesn't count as elbowing, right?"
Morrison snorted coldly.
"Family? You do realize you're married now, right? Married women take their husband's surname. You're Mos now, which means you and I are the real family!"
Lilian froze, speechless.
"Fine, fine. I'll admit it—I am elbowing you out," she said, giving in.
She couldn't deny it. Technically, she was a Mo now.
"But you still have to help him, okay?" she added.
Morrison leaned down close to her ear, his voice dripping with mischief.
"That depends on how well you behave."
Lilian's face flushed with indignation.
"I'm already like this—nauseous and throwing up—and you're thinking about those shameless things?"
Morrison looked utterly innocent, defending himself.
"When did I ever think about shameless things? You're the one whose mind isn't pure, so you're imagining me thinking impure thoughts."
Lilian puffed out her cheeks in frustration. He was really twisting things around. He leaned closer, speaking in that deliberately suggestive tone—surely he was thinking about those things, wasn't he?
"So, what do you mean by that?"
Lilian panted, fuming as she confronted Morrison.
He chuckled, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Honestly? I just wanted you to call me 'Darling…'…"
Lilian froze, speechless.
Ever since their wedding, Morrison had been obsessed with getting her to say it. She hated it—too cheesy, too embarrassing—but he always found new ways to make her.
Now, once again, he was at it. Lilian glared at him, huffed, and spun on her heel, storming off.
"Hey—hey!"
Morrison called after her, his tone anxious as he hurried to catch up.
"Fine, don't call me! Just… don't walk so fast!"