Chapter 20

A flicker of unease crossed Sylvia's face under his gaze. She quickly handed him her phone.

"It's Diana," she explained. "She makes me report my whereabouts and prove I'm eating on time. See?"

The screen showed a WhatsApp chat. Besides the photo she had just sent, there was a long history of pictures-some of Sylvia alone in the office, and others with Cedric in the background.

Cedric's sharp gaze softened slightly, and he resumed cutting his steak. "With me here, she has nothing to worry about."

"I told her you'd take good care of me, but you know how she is..." Sylvia said with a mix of exasperation and affection.

Her words were cut short when Cedric's phone, lying on the edge of the table, rang again.

It was Timothy.

Cedric answered, and Timothy's anxious voice came through the line. "Mr. Forrest, your wife just called me. She said there was a fire at the estate and the Dowager was burned! She needs you to get there right away!"

*Screech!*

Cedric shot to his feet, the chair scraping harshly against the floor.

"I'm on my way." He hung up, tossed a quick "Something's come up, I have to go" to Sylvia, and strode out of the restaurant, grabbing his coat on the way.

The Maybach tore down the highway, weaving expertly through traffic as it sped toward the hills.

The Forrest Estate was nestled halfway up a mountain, its winding roads just beginning to glow with evening lights.

Liliana had taken a taxi. When it pulled up to the estate, the entire mansion was brilliantly lit, not at all the inferno she had been picturing. She breathed a sigh of relief.

But as she got out of the car, the acrid smell of smoke hung heavy in the air, and she quickened her pace, rushing into the house without even stopping to change her shoes.

She went straight to the living room, where Dowager Forrest, her hair a cascade of silver, was sitting upright on the sofa. The matriarch, nearly eighty but still full of vigor, was munching on a bowl of nuts and watching television through her reading glasses, completely absorbed.

"Liliana, you're back!" she called out, setting the bowl aside and waving her over. "Come, sit with me!"

Liliana was out of breath, a fine sheen of sweat on her forehead. She walked over to the sofa. "Grandmother, they said... there was a fire?"

"Oh, there was," the Dowager said, pointing toward the backyard where a pile of smoldering ash was visible. "But it's out now."

Liliana stood there, speechless.

She replayed the staff member's

frantic phone call in her head. It was true, they hadn't explicitly said the Dowager was injured. But the

Qu

panicked tone, the way the sentence trailed off it had all implied that her grandmother was in grave danger.

"Why are you alone?" the Dowager asked, peering behind her. "Where's that grandson of mine?"

Liliana's lips pressed together as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "He's busy with work. He was probably in a meeting, so he didn't pick up when I called."

The Dowager's eyes gleamed shrewdly. "And you're angry that he didn't answer your call?"

"No," Liliana denied instantly.

When he had rejected her call, she had been more worried than angry, terrified that something terrible had happened here and Cedric wasn't around

nato help That's why she had immediately called Timothy. The moment he told her Cedric was on his way, her heart had settled.

But now, replaying the moment in her mind, it was painfully clear: Cedric had deliberately ignored her.

A chill spread through her chest, so cold it felt hard to breathe.

Seeing the pained look on her face, the Dowager assumed she was upset with Cedric and declared, "Don't you worry. I'll make sure he gets his behind home tonight."

Liliana just stared, confused.

Her mind was a mess, and she couldn't quite follow her grandmother's logic. How had this turned into getting Cedric home *for her*? Wasn't this whole fire a ruse by the Dowager to get both of them to come back?

Just as she was puzzling over it, she felt a pair of eyes lock onto her, sharp and cold.

She instinctively looked up and saw Cedric rushing in.

His deep-set eyes, still shadowed with the last vestiges of worry, hardened into a glacial stare as they met hers.