Cecilia walked right into her uncle’s apartment—only to be greeted by a woman coming down the stairs, bare from the waist down.
Charles had a fever last night, and Vivian sent her early in the morning to bring him chicken soup.
Not daring to waste time, Cecilia grabbed the thermos, punched in the security code, and walked in.
The moment the door opened, she froze. A stranger with messy hair and long legs was shakily making her way down, hips swaying a little too much.
The woman had thrown on an oversized men’s tee, just barely covering her behind. Every step gave a peek underneath.
No shorts, no underwear. Just... nothing.
Her eyes narrowed with hostility. "Who are you? How the hell do you know Charles’s code?"
Cecilia felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest—sharp, deep, breath-snatching pain.
Uncle... has a girlfriend?
The woman eyed her up and down, voice sharper. "Hello? I’m talking to you. Who are you?"
"I’m… his niece." Cecilia nearly dropped the thermos, her voice hoarse.
"He has a niece that young?" the woman sneered. "Or are you just his side chick pretending to be a niece?"
Cecilia didn’t take the bait. Instead, she clutched the lid tighter. "Where is he?"
The woman shot a glance upstairs, her smile turning seductive. "Knocked him out last night. He’s still sleeping it off."
So they really…
Cecilia felt her blood run cold. Even her bones felt like ice.
No wonder. Vivian, who usually kept her as far from Charles as possible, suddenly insisted she deliver soup?
Clever setup.
Sure, Cecilia had always known a man like Charles wouldn’t exactly be lonely at his age. But knowing it in her head and seeing it with her own eyes? Whole different pain.
This kind of hurt hit deeper—stinging, raw, and impossible to shake.
Seeing her frozen on the spot, the woman snatched the thermos from her arms. "You’ve done your part. Now scram. Charles hasn’t slept all night—let him rest."
Cecilia was just about to turn and flee when steady footsteps echoed from upstairs.
“Cecilia?” came a familiar, deep voice from behind.
She used to love hearing him say her name. That voice always made her feel safe—like as long as Charles was there, nothing could really go wrong.
But now? Her mind instantly filled in the blanks from last night, picturing him tangled up with that woman, whispering with this exact voice in the dark.
The gut punch that came with it made her go numb.
She turned around and forced a shaky smile.
"Uncle… Mom heard you weren’t feeling well, so she asked me to drop off some soup. Make sure to drink it while it’s still hot."
Charles came down the stairs, dressed in charcoal and black sleepwear.He was tall, with sharp, defined features. Years in the military had shaped him into someone who radiated a chill like a winter storm.
"Why didn’t you call before coming over?"
"I figured you might be sleeping off a fever. Didn’t want to wake you."
Charles rarely got a break from his unit—Cecilia had just hoped he’d rest up a bit.
Besides, she had the code to his place, so she just let herself in. What she didn’t expect was to walk into something that would knock the wind out of her.
Charles casually picked up his car keys, his voice hoarse from a cold. "It’s freezing. I’ll drive you back."
As soon as he came downstairs, the woman who had just acted all high and mighty instantly switched up her tone.
"Yeah, it’s super cold tonight! Cecilia, let your uncle take you home!"
Cecilia quickly shook her head. "Thanks, but I’ve got something at school. I’ll head out."
But as she was about to walk out the door, she heard the woman say in a flirty, syrupy tone,
"Is she really your niece? She's so pretty—I thought she was some girl you’re dating on the side."
Charles chuckled quietly, the kind of laugh that made your spine tingle.
"My little sweetheart? That's you."
...
Cecilia felt as if her chest had caved in. It hurt to even breathe.
She was only seven when Vivian married into the Huntley Family—second only to the Dawson clan in status in Yan City.
Henry Huntley, the eldest son, had also been married before and had a daughter: Sophie.
The entire family adored Sophie like she was made of glass. As for Cecilia, no one even spared her a glance.
Everyone knew Vivian and her daughter had married above their station. They should’ve been used to being ignored.
But people judge fast, and Cecilia clearly wasn’t welcome. Even the maids treated her poorly—targeting her because she was young.
Until Charles stepped into her life.
He happened to catch one particularly nasty moment.
Fired the maid on the spot and took Cecilia back to his own home.
For those few years, he made her believe in fairy tales—like she was the heroine in some dream.
Then came her eighteenth birthday.
Charles showed up with cake and congratulated her on becoming an adult. That moment, Cecilia realized—damn, she’d fallen for him.
And just like that, her fairy tale turned into thorns and brambles.
Leaving the apartment, Cecilia headed straight to the lab at school. But all she could think about were those pale, bare legs and Charles’s low, gravelly voice.
Her thoughts were a mess. She even messed up some basic data sets, earning a brutal scolding from her cranky advisor.
Her senior, Thomas, noticed she was off and told her to just go rest.
Rubbing her swollen eyes, she didn’t insist on staying. She quietly took leave and left.
It was already dark. She didn’t want to go home, didn’t want to go back to her dorm.
Inside the neon-lit Whale Bar, the bass shook the floor as people danced like there was no tomorrow.
Cecilia sat at the bar and ordered the strongest cocktail they had.
She’d been the obedient one for way too long—tonight, she just wanted to let go.
She tilted her head back and downed a mouthful of the burning liquor.
Suddenly, someone tapped her shoulder.
"Drinking alone in a bar? Really, Cecilia? You drowning in heartbreak or what?"Cecilia turned and, sure enough, ran right into Sophie Huntley’s smug, mocking grin.
"So, I’m guessing you’ve already heard Uncle Charles is being pushed to get engaged?"
Sophie had always been at odds with her since they were kids. She knew exactly where to jab to make it hurt the most.
"Engaged?"
Cecilia’s head snapped up, a flash of disbelief flickering in her eyes.
"Yeah, he’s thirty already. Grandma and Grandpa have been pressuring him to settle down for ages. Looks like he finally gave in. Bet he’ll be engaged by the end of this year. Guess we’ll be calling someone 'Auntie' pretty soon, huh?"
That sharp, familiar sting hit her right in the chest again.
She literally just found out Charles had another woman, and now there’s talk of an engagement?
"You look kinda pale... don’t tell me you're still hung up on Uncle Charles..."
"I’m not!" Cecilia cut her off immediately.
"Good," Sophie smiled sweetly as she latched onto Cecilia’s arm. "Then come upstairs and have a little fun."
Cecilia hesitated, but Sophie didn’t give her a chance to refuse—she practically dragged her into the private lounge.
The moment the door opened—
"Wait, am I seeing things? Is that really Cecilia?"
"It’s been like two years! I thought she left Yancheng for good."
"Please, after what she did with her uncle back then… she got kicked out in no time."
The room was full of wealthy second-gen kids, the elite of Yancheng.
Their chatter wasn’t subtle either—every word made its way to Cecilia’s ears. Her fists clenched tight, nails digging into her palms. She wanted to turn and leave, but Sophie stood in front of the door like a wall, trapping her under everyone's stares.
Miss Emma, one of Sophie’s regular tag-alongs, was the first to pipe up, her voice ringing with mockery.
"Wow, Cecilia, you’ve actually got the guts to show your face again? After all that drama with your dear uncle..."
"Shut your mouth."
A voice, cold as shattered glass on marble, sliced through the noise like a blade through silk.
Cecilia’s head jerked up.
In the center of the room sat a man with striking features, eyes lowered, casually tapping his fingertip against a red wineglass.
The air around him had a chill to it, like winter smoke drifting alone through a frozen morning light—aloof, detached, completely out of reach.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Their eyes met.
Edward Dawson.
The guy who was, on paper, her so-called...
In Yancheng’s elite circle, he was basically the peak. Ridiculously rich family, scary capable.
His grandfather used to be a commander, his dad ran the defense district, and his mom? The only heir of the Huntley Family.
With a résumé like that, who in Yancheng wouldn’t steer clear?
But this man went totally off-script—ditched the political track and jumped into business in college. By junior year, he'd already launched his own company. Now his firm, Onno, dominated the national chip market.
"What are you spacing out for?"
Edward looked straight at the flustered girl by the door, voice low and steady. "Come sit."
Cecilia was just trying to find a quiet corner to disappear into.
Then came the kicker—
"Sit next to me."
