Cecelia forced herself to stay calm as she walked with the group, already mapping out a quick escape downstairs. The moment she hit the first floor, several security guards appeared in the crowd, scanning faces like they were hunting someone.

Were they looking for her? Panic slammed into her, rattling the composure she’d fought to keep. She hadn’t thought they’d notice she was gone this fast. What was she supposed to do?

Security teams moved to cover the mall exits, cutting off every route she could see. She was trapped in a sea of people. Would they catch her and drag her back? No. She couldn’t let that happen. If she went back now, she might never get another chance to escape.

“Miss Graham, I’m waiting for you at Gate One. Please come over immediately.” The announcement crackled over the speakers, and her panic spiked.

One thought blazed through her mind: Hide. Do not get caught. As the guards combed through every face, her anxiety climbed. She moved carefully, keeping out of their line of sight.

Then a tall, familiar figure stormed through the entrance—Marshall Robinson. He was here. Fear crashed over Cecelia, so thick it nearly choked her. She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze, terrified he’d spot her.

Marshall’s voice sliced through the noise. “How did you lose track of her?” Rage laced every word.

“Sorry, Mr. Robinson. I didn’t expect Miss Graham to vanish inside the store. We’re pulling up the security footage,” one guard replied. Cecelia went rigid. Once they reviewed that footage, her disguise would be blown. Not many people had gone in and out of the store—they’d spot the clothing mismatch in seconds.

She’d come too far to let Marshall find her now. The consequences would be devastating.

“Find her!” Marshall barked. “Tear this place apart if you have to!”

Watching him search like a man possessed, Cecelia almost let herself believe she mattered to him. But if she really mattered, why had he believed Margot Cook—the woman he was supposed to marry—over her? After ten years by his side? If he’d trusted her even a little, she wouldn’t have spent the past year in hell. Her hands balled into fists in her pockets, nails biting into her palms. But she felt no pain. Still, she didn’t dare step forward. She melted deeper into the crowd, hunting for a place to hide, inching toward the restroom in the corner.

Maybe she could disappear in there.

She was almost there when a cold voice stopped her. “Miss, excuse me. Could you turn around?”

Cecelia froze. Ice slid down her spine. Should she turn? Her feet felt nailed to the floor. Time ground to a halt. Just when she was sure there was no way out, two firm hands landed on her shoulders, and a low, soothing voice followed.

“Don’t be scared, darling.”

Her heart stuttered. She looked up and locked eyes with a pair of deep, dark ones. The face was devastatingly handsome—thick brows, a sharp nose, and lips curved into a cocky smile that was almost infuriating.

It belonged to Leon Cook—the man who’d stormed the business world after leaving the military three years ago, notorious for going head-to-head with Marshall Robinson, his sworn rival.

She’d never met Leon; Marshall had sent her abroad when she turned eighteen. So why was he helping her now?

“Sorry to drag you into a tabloid scandal, Mr. Cook,” she muttered, catching a glimpse of her over-the-top makeup in the reflection. God, it was ridiculous.

Leon chuckled, eyes teasing. “That’s quite the fiery look. How’d you end up in a mess like this?”

Cecelia said nothing, unsure how to answer. As Leon steered her toward the exit, her anxiety climbed with every step closer to Marshall. Everyone heading for the main exit had to pass Marshall’s men, who were watching faces and questioning anyone who looked familiar.

As they approached Marshall, her legs went weak and she nearly stumbled. Only Leon’s steady grip kept her upright as they walked straight toward him.

“Heard you lost your sister,” Leon taunted, sending a ripple of surprise through the crowd.

The two were always at each other’s throats, never missing a chance to provoke each other.

Cecelia’s legs went weaker, her head dipping lower. She regretted ever getting tangled up with Leon. Was she just a pawn in his game against Marshall?

Lost in her spiraling thoughts, she heard Marshall’s tightly controlled voice. “Get lost, Leon. I’m not in the mood for your games.”

Cecelia swallowed hard, relieved Marshall hadn’t recognized her. She was about to seize her chance to slip away when Leon’s taunting escalated.

“Ran her off, did you? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Leon was fearless—daring enough to taunt Marshall to his face.

Everyone knew Marshall treasured Cecelia. Even after two ruined weddings, he still hadn’t cast her aside—proof of just how much she meant to him.

Bitterness twisted through Cecelia. Leon’s jab had hit the truth. With her gone, his wedding wouldn’t be ruined again. He could finally be happy.

Marshall’s frustration boiled over, his voice tight. “You—”

“If you can’t see what’s right in front of you, get your eyes checked. Aren’t you tired of being played for a fool?” Leon shot back, leading Cecelia away. Marshall stood there fuming, his eyes locked on Leon’s retreating figure.

Damn it. Leon had gotten under his skin again.

Marshall didn’t have time to dwell on Leon’s words. He turned back to his men, determined to find Cecelia, vowing to search every corner.

In the car parked outside the mall, Cecelia kept her gaze fixed on Marshall, her tension slowly easing.

She had finally escaped.

Goodbye, Marshall.

“If you’re so torn about leaving Marshall, why not go back?” Leon suggested, unlocking the car door with a smirk.

His words were teasing, but his expression was ice-cold.

Cecelia shivered before she could stop it. She turned her head and met those intense, unreadable eyes—the kind that made her heart stutter.

“I...” The word died on her lips.

“You get one chance,” Leon Cook said, his voice hard. “Walk away and go back to Marshall Robinson now. Or never go back to him again.”

There was a finality in his words that made Cecelia’s stomach knot. Going back to Marshall would be like crawling back into a nightmare.

“No. I won’t go back.” She grabbed Leon’s arm, her lips pale, her body strung tight with fear.

She’d fought too damn hard to crawl out of her own personal hell. Just the thought of returning made her chest seize, her breath go thin.

“Leon, please. Don’t take me back. I’m begging you.”

It was the first time Leon had seen her like this—so fragile, so broken. Surprise flickered through his eyes, followed by a quiet ache in his chest.

Was this really the Cecelia he knew?

She’d always been bright, fierce, full of fire. Even after her family fell apart, she’d held on to that pride, that confidence.

Now she looked delicate, timid, scared—like a few words could crush her.

He fought the urge to go after Marshall himself. Instead, he softened his voice to calm her.

“All right. I’ll get you out of here.”

The car shot forward.

Across town, Margot Cook’s red sports car screeched to a stop outside the shopping center. She glared at the photo on her phone, rage burning through her. Cecelia had some nerve—shopping with Marshall’s money.

“That woman. Spending my man’s money like she owns it.”

She muttered the words under her breath, then dialed a number, voice tight with fury. “Find her before Marshall does. And make sure she stays hidden.”

She ended the call and marched into the mall. It didn’t take long to spot Marshall—frantically searching for Cecelia.

God, how annoying.

This time, she’d make sure Cecelia disappeared for good.

Composing herself, Margot walked up to him and said softly, “Marshall, I just heard Cecelia used the shopping trip to run. How could she be so irresponsible? She’s barely out and she’s already causing trouble. So immature.”

“If you find her, maybe you should let me handle—”

“Go home,” Marshall cut her off, impatient. He didn’t care about anything except finding Cecelia.

A dark sense of dread hung over him. He was terrified he might lose her for good.

Margot seethed inside, but she knew better than to push him. So she stayed, waiting with him for news.

Minutes later, footage from a lingerie store’s camera reached Marshall. The oversight became clear.

“So that woman in the gray T-shirt was Cecelia.” He said it to himself, certain he wasn’t wrong.

He hadn’t expected her to outsmart the bodyguards so cleanly.

He took a deep breath and silently prayed she hadn’t escaped yet.

“Search everywhere! Comb through every inch of the mall, inside and out!”

Marshall’s order sent shockwaves through the city.

[Isn’t it strange how much Marshall seems to hate Cecelia? Otherwise, why send her somewhere so strict? It doesn’t add up.]

[If Cecelia wants to leave, why is Marshall chasing her? Isn’t he worried she’ll ruin his third attempt to marry Margot?]

[Looks like Marshall’s pretty attached to Cecelia, huh?]

Cecelia sat in the car, watching the mall shrink in the rearview. As the tension eased, she turned to Leon and whispered, “Leon, thank you for helping me. You can just drop me off somewhere.”

Leon slid her a quick glance and smirked. “What, use me and then toss me aside?”

Cecelia hesitated, unsure what to say. Her fingers clutched the seatbelt as she tried to figure out why he’d helped her at all.

They weren’t close enough for him to stick his neck out like that.

So why?

Was it just to piss off Marshall? Was she nothing more than a pawn in their fight?

“Leon, I think you’ve got the wrong idea about me and Marshall,” she ventured.

“Oh? Then enlighten me. What are you to him?”

What are you to him? Cecelia hesitated. Siblings? Enemies? She didn’t even know what to call them.

When she didn’t answer, Leon’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. Annoyance flickered across his face. “If you want to leave, then go.”

The car jerked to a stop by the roadside.

Cecelia blinked, caught off guard. She hadn’t expected him to give in so fast.

She was about to thank him when his phone rang.

Leon answered. Laughter spilled from the other end.

“Leon, has Marshall lost his mind? He’s ordering a citywide search for Cecelia—his people were watching highways, train stations, and airports. Looks like she’s not getting away!”

Cecelia’s eyes went wide. She hadn’t expected Marshall to chase her this hard.

She’d already decided to leave.

Why couldn’t he just let her go?

Helplessness crashed over her. The second she stepped out of this car, she’d probably fall right back into Marshall’s hands.

Silence hung between them until Leon’s playful laugh broke it.

“Not getting out, Miss Graham?”

Cecelia sat frozen. Too scared to ask. Too desperate not to. “Can I stay with you?”

Her only option was to cling to Leon like a lifeline.

Leon narrowed his eyes. The amusement drained from his face as he studied her.

“You can. But...”

“I’ll do whatever you ask,” Cecelia cut in.

Desperation had stripped her pride down to nothing. Anything was better than facing Margot and Marshall again.

At that, Leon took her back to his home.

After a short walk, Cecelia realized the villa was a sanctuary. The lush surroundings made it feel almost unreal.

Inside, the beauty of it left her speechless.

The house was packed with technology—iris scanners, smart appliances, and an advanced AI home assistant whose holographic avatar appeared to greet them.

“Welcome home, sir!”

The mechanical voice sparked a flicker of warmth in Cecelia’s numb heart.

“This is the home assistant. If you need anything, ask her. She’ll handle it,” Leon explained. Then he turned to the AI. “Take Miss Graham to the guest room to freshen up. Prepare dinner. And remember—no onions. Make her something warm and easy on her stomach.”

The assistant’s holographic avatar smiled. “Miss Graham, please follow the hallway lights to the guest room.”

Still dazed, Cecelia found the assistant’s warm voice oddly comforting.

She nodded and followed the softly illuminated path upstairs.

Leon watched her disappear around the corner. Then he headed to the backyard, where his friend Clay Nelson was waiting.

“Where’s your ‘sister’ Cecelia? Didn’t you bring her back to introduce us?” Clay teased.

“She doesn’t remember me. Don’t say anything stupid in front of her,” Leon replied. He lit a cigarette, a hint of melancholy softening his expression.