Hearing Lucas’ sharp question, Celia snapped back to reality.

Noticing the love letters still in her hands, she quickly placed them back into the drawer and mumbled an explanation. “I was just trying to tidy up for you…”

But her attempt to explain didn’t soften his mood.

Instead, his tone grew colder. “Did you look at the contents?”

Celia froze, surprised that this was what he cared about most. Seeing his expression darken further, she quickly shook her head. “No, I didn’t read them.”

Her answer seemed to ease his tension slightly, but when he spoke again, his voice was still edged with irritation.

“Leave. And don’t touch my things again without my permission.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she murmured, lowering her head. Without another word, she turned and left the study.

Back in her room, Celia lay on her bed, but her mind kept drifting back to the letters she had seen in the study.

She couldn’t recall ever hearing about Lucas being interested in someone. As far as she could remember, there had never been another woman in his life apart from herself and Yvonne.

So, who were those letters for?

Could they have been for her?

The thought sent her mind spiraling until exhaustion finally pulled her into sleep.

When she woke again, it was the middle of the night. A faint sound from the next room stirred her, and she realized Yvonne had returned.

Instantly alert, Celia moved closer to her door. The proximity allowed her to hear their conversation clearly, especially since they hadn’t shut their door.

Yvonne’s voice came first, brimming with delight. “I was only gone for two days, and you wrote me so many love letters?”

Her excitement was palpable, and it was quickly followed by Lucas’ response, warm and indulgent. His voice carried the same gentle tone he used to reserve for Celia in the past, back before she confessed her feelings to him.

“What? You don’t like them?”

Yvonne laughed softly, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love them. You’ll have to write me one every day from now on.”

As Yvonne’s final, teasing words fell, the sound of muffled intimacy drifted from the next room, followed by the soft click of a closing door.

Celia quickly stepped away from her own door, retreating back to her bed. Lying down, she shut her eyes, but her face had turned pale.

For a brief moment, she couldn’t help but find herself both pathetic and laughable.

“Celia Quinn, what are you even thinking?” she whispered bitterly.

When she had seen Lucas’ panicked expression earlier, an absurd thought had flashed through her mind—that maybe, just maybe, those love letters were written for her.

But now, after hearing his conversation with Yvonne, she knew just how ridiculous that idea had been.

By the time the countdown reached three days, it was Yvonne’s birthday.

Lucas spared no expense, throwing an extravagant party in her honor. The guest list was long, filled with prominent figures, because this celebration wasn’t just about Yvonne’s birthday.

During the evening, Lucas made another major announcement:

In the near future, he and Yvonne would be hosting their engagement party.

As the crowd swarmed forward with congratulations, Celia stood frozen for a moment, stunned. Did he truly care for Yvonne this much?

In just three short months, he had already decided to marry her.

She let out a bitter laugh, glancing down at the gift in her hands. What she had originally planned as a parting gift for Lucas had, unexpectedly, turned into a congratulatory present for his engagement.

As the line of well-wishers thinned, Celia finally stepped forward, holding the small package out to him. She had resolved long ago to wish him happiness, no matter who he chose to be with.

But now, standing here, forcing those words out felt far more painful than she had imagined.

“Uncle,” she began, her voice low and strained, “congratulations on your engagement... I hope you’ll have a long and happy life together.”

Lucas accepted the gift from her, his expression unreadable.

“You can save your congratulations for the engagement party.”

Engagement party?

But she wouldn’t live to see that day.

Celia lowered her head, silent and unresponsive. She neither explained nor argued, merely handed over the gift before walking away. Finding a quiet corner, she sat down alone.

Lucas didn’t pay much attention as she left. He remained by Yvonne’s side, leading her through the crowd with a gentle smile. He patiently introduced her to every guest offering their congratulations, his demeanor full of warmth and affection.

Before long, after greeting everyone, Lucas and Yvonne disappeared from the crowd altogether.

Celia lingered for a while longer before standing and quietly slipping out of the banquet hall.

She had always disliked these crowded, noisy gatherings. In the past, Lucas would notice her discomfort and quietly lead her away halfway through. Now, that habit hadn’t changed but the person he chose to leave with had.

The area outside the hall was spacious, and Celia recalled there being a garden pavilion nearby. She decided to take a walk there, seeking a moment of solitude.

However, as she approached, she realized the pavilion wasn’t empty.

Drawing closer, she saw Lucas and Yvonne there, speaking softly.

“Lucas,” Yvonne’s voice carried a playful, almost childlike tone. “When we get married, I want my own garden pavilion. Can I have one?”

Her words were met with Lucas’s indulgent chuckle. “Why wait until after we’re married? I’ll have it ready for you now.”

“Really?” Yvonne’s eyes sparkled with delight, her cheeks flushing pink as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.

But Lucas turned his head at the last moment, and her kiss landed unexpectedly on his lips.

The accidental gesture deepened the flush on Yvonne’s face, and she pulled back in a flustered attempt to recover. Before she could retreat, Lucas wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to deepen the kiss.

From a distance, Celia stood frozen, watching the scene unfold.

Perhaps it was because she was already dead, or perhaps it was because she had steeled herself to wish them happiness.

But no matter how prepared she thought she was, the sight still struck something deep within her.

As Celia watched the scene unfold, the pain she had anticipated didn’t come.

Instead, an unfamiliar sense of calm settled over her.

She didn’t disturb them. Turning away, she left quietly.

She wandered aimlessly through the property, eventually finding herself near the swimming pool.

Celia stood still, gazing blankly at the crystal-clear water, lost in thought.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before a familiar voice broke through her reverie.

“Watching all this must really hurt, doesn’t it?”

She turned to find Yvonne standing behind her.

Celia frowned slightly, confused by her words.

“Lucas told me everything,” Yvonne continued, her tone laced with feigned understanding. “He told me about your... feelings for him. Honestly, I get it. You’re just a young girl, and Lucas is so incredible. It’s normal to have a little crush.”

Her words seemed understanding, but the malice in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. “But it’s also not normal, is it? After all, what kind of child falls for their own uncle?”

Celia hadn’t expected Lucas to share her feelings so openly with Yvonne.

A wave of shame and bitterness washed over her. She didn’t need him to reciprocate her feelings. She had even resolved to bless their future together.

But why did he have to trample on her dignity like this?

She remained silent, refusing to respond, but Yvonne wasn’t done.

Her voice took on a hint of smugness as she added, “Lucas doesn’t like you. Honestly, I don’t have the patience to keep up this whole family charade with you either. Soon, I’ll be marrying into the Shaw family, and I don’t want a clingy child lingering between us.

“If you’re willing to leave, I can give you some money. You’re an adult now. It’s time you learned to be independent.”

Celia’s face turned pale at her words. After a long pause, she finally replied in a hoarse voice, “Don’t worry. I’ll be gone in three days.”

Her concession didn’t soften Yvonne’s attitude.

Instead, it only emboldened her to push further.

“Why wait three days? Why not leave now?”

For a moment, Celia was at a loss for words. How could she explain that three days wasn’t the timeline for leaving the Shaw family—it was the time she had left in this world?

Just as Celia was about to speak, an unexpected commotion unfolded.

Two children, laughing and chasing each other on skateboards, came racing toward the pool.

Neither noticed the people standing nearby until it was too late.

Failing to stop in time, they crashed into Yvonne, sending her tumbling into the pool.

With a loud splash, water erupted from the pool. Celia froze for a moment before snapping back to reality. Ignoring the children, she stepped forward, ready to jump in and help. But before she could move, a figure darted past her.

A powerful force shoved her back, and she stumbled before regaining her balance. Looking up, she saw it was Lucas.

Without hesitation, Lucas stripped off his jacket and dove into the pool. Moments later, he surfaced, pulling Yvonne to safety. Wrapping her in his coat, he turned to Celia, his brow furrowed.

“What happened?”

Before Celia could explain, Yvonne spoke first, her voice soft and trembling, laced with just the right amount of vulnerability.

“It’s my fault. I must have upset Celia, and she pushed me into the pool. But it’s okay—I’m fine, don’t be angry with her…”

Her frail tone and shivering frame painted a convincing picture, and despite the words of forgiveness, her statement sounded more like an accusation.

Lucas’ expression darkened further. His accusing gaze shifted to Celia, and she felt the weight of his judgment.

“I didn’t push her. It wasn’t me—it was…” Celia stammered, turning to find the children who had caused the accident. But a glance around revealed they had already disappeared.

Her voice faltered, and the brief pause sealed her fate.

“If not you, then who? Me? Or are you going to claim she somehow fell in on her own?” Lucas’ voice was sharp, cutting. “Celia Quinn, I thought you were just a little spoiled, but now I see you’re completely out of line. You’ve got no shame at all!”

The words hit her like a thunderclap, echoing painfully in her mind.

No shame.

He knew, better than anyone, how much that phrase haunted her. After her parents’ deaths, the cruel taunts from schoolmates—mocking her for being a “shameful child without parents”—had left scars.

Back then, Lucas had been the one to stand up for her.

And now, he was the one wielding those very words like a weapon against her.

Her lips moved as if to say something, to defend herself, but no sound came out. Lucas didn’t wait. He turned away, carrying Yvonne in his arms and leaving without a backward glance.

With the host long gone, the party quickly lost its purpose. The crowd dispersed, leaving Celia to wander home, her heart heavy and her mind adrift.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. She called Lucas and sent him messages, desperate to explain what had really happened. But as the hours dragged on, the silence from him was deafening.

It wasn’t until dawn the next morning that Lucas returned to the villa, Yvonne at his side.

“Uncle, I didn’t push her! It was two kids—they were playing near the pool and accidentally knocked her in!” Celia rushed forward the moment she saw them, her voice pleading.

Lucas didn’t respond. He simply kept walking, pulling Yvonne along with him as if Celia wasn’t even there. He didn’t spare her so much as a glance.

Panicking, she stepped in front of him, blocking his path, her eyes red with unshed tears. “Can’t you believe me just this once? You used to… you always trusted me.”

Her voice trembled, breaking slightly with emotion. It was enough to make Lucas pause.

In the past, when she had no one else, Lucas had been her everything. He had given her the security and love she needed to survive. And whenever something went wrong, he would always take her side without question.

She had once asked him why, when everyone else accused her of lying, he still believed her. His answer had been simple, “Celia, I raised you. I might not know everyone else, but I know who you truly are.”

But now, as she stood before him, desperate for that same trust, Lucas remained silent. After what felt like an eternity, he finally moved but only to push her aside.

“Get out of the way.”

He didn’t push her hard, but Celia staggered and fell to the ground.

Seeing her collapse so easily, Lucas froze for a moment, guilt flashing in his eyes. He quickly bent down to help her up, but when his hand touched hers, he stopped, his expression shifting to one of alarm. He realized that her body temperature was abnormally low.

“Why is your hand so cold?”

His voice was filled with unmistakable concern, but when Celia fumbled for an explanation, unable to provide an answer, Lucas grabbed her hand to check for himself.

What he discovered left him stunned. He couldn’t feel her pulse.

Just as he was about to question her, Yvonne, who had been standing quietly behind him, interrupted.

“Celia, even if you’re upset about Lucas spending time with me, pretending to be sick just to get his attention isn’t the way to go.”

Her words landed like a dagger, and the worry in Lucas’ eyes instantly hardened into fury.

“You pushed Yvonne into the pool, and now you’re pretending to be ill just to manipulate me? The only way I’ll even consider forgiving you is if you apologize to Yvonne right now!”

The ticking of the clock on the wall marked each passing second, weighing heavily on Celia’s heart. She didn’t have much time left, and now she was wasting it in a cold war she couldn’t win.

Her face pale and expression numb, she didn’t bother to argue further. “Fine, I’ll apologize.”

She stood, her head bowed and eyes red-rimmed, and mumbled a soft, “I’m sorry,” in Yvonne’s direction.

Then she looked up at Lucas, her gaze hollow and lifeless, as though every ounce of fight had drained from her.

“Uncle, is this enough? Will you forgive me now?”

Lucas’ jaw tightened, her words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. She looked utterly defeated, as though bearing a pain so heavy it might break her. Her shoulders trembled faintly, and her watery eyes glistened with a sadness so raw it was suffocating.

But his anger refused to waver, and after a long, tense silence, he finally spat out five cold words, “Don’t let it happen again.”