My Last Shot After Seven Canceled Weddings Chapter 08
Cecilia’s POV
It wasn’t a heavy blow, but it was loud enough.
Marcus didn’t cup his face. He didn’t even flinch away. He just stood there with his head turned to the side, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
The sunlight caught his face, illuminating every bit of the turbulence surging in his eyes.
Looking at his expression, I suddenly felt a wave of unfamiliarity.
In five years, I had never hit him or raised a hand against anyone. In his mind, I was probably always the gentle, yielding woman who would forever wait for him to turn around. So when that slap landed, the shock on his face far outweighed the pain.
All those fragmented pieces in his mind were likely finally coming together right now.
Why Ceciora Capital withdrew its funding, why the ultimate owner turned out to be a Caruso, why I had worked for five years without a salary, and what I said at Solaviera Airport-“If we don’t get married this time, there won’t be another chance.”
The moment I uttered those words, I had already decided to let go.
“Cecilia…” Marcus’ voice was so raspy it was barely audible. “Ceciora Capital… is yours?”
“Marcus.” I picked up my teacup, not bothering to look at him. “You came here to talk about that investment, didn’t you?
“I was the one who funded it. How do you think Benton Corp expanded so fast over the last five years and built out its channels like that? On your business genius?
“I was the one behind the scenes paving the road for you. Your company should have gone bankrupt in its third year. I’m the one who grew it into the empire it is today.”
I set the cup back down and raised my eyes to meet his. “You didn’t know because you never cared to ask.”
Marcus’ lips moved, but not a single word came out.
Looking at him like this, I felt nothing at all.
Once upon a time, I dreamed of him looking at me with that exact gaze. I had wished so desperately that he would see my sacrifices, my grievances, and everything I had shouldered for him. But since he noticed nothing, I didn’t care to wait anymore.
Bianca stood off to the side clutching her cheek. Her expression shifted from shock to panic, and finally to terror.
“You lied!” she suddenly shrieked, her voice so sharp it startled the birds off the patio. “You were acting! You’re no ordinary woman! You played the helpless victim to fool Marcus for five whole years!”
I tilted my head toward her.
“Played the victim?” I narrowed my eyes slightly. “Bianca, you claim you have depression. Where are your medical records?”
Her face went deathly pale.
“Where’s your medication? Which hospital diagnosed you? What’s your attending physician’s name?” My voice remained unhurried, like I was reading off a list I had long memorized.
“Every time you threw a fit and threatened to kill yourself in front of Marcus, where were the wrist scars? Did he ever see them? Where are your hospitalization records?”
Bianca took a step back, her lower back hitting the patio railing, making her entire body shudder.
“You put on so many performances in front of Marcus all these years.”
I picked up the teacup and set it down again. The porcelain clinked softly against the saucer. “And he never checked your medical records even once. Am I right?”
Marcus whipped his head toward Bianca. “Bianca… where are your records?”
Bianca’s lips trembled. “I-I lost them… when I switched phones…”
“What does switching phones have to do with medical records?” Marcus’ voice turned cold for the first time.
Bianca’s tears streamed down her cheeks. Looking at her tear-streaked face, I felt not a shred of sympathy.
Marcus didn’t step forward to comfort her. He just stood there, the sunlight casting shadows on his profile.
Looking at his expression, I suddenly felt as though he had aged five years in an instant.
I stood up and spared Marcus one last look. “Marcus, five years ago, I told my papa that if I couldn’t marry you in five years, I would return home and accept an arranged marriage.”
He looked up at me, his lips moving as if he wanted to say something.
But I didn’t give him the chance to speak. “The day after you took Bianca to Solaviera, my bet with my papa expired, so I came back.”
I raised my left hand. The ring on my ring finger flashed under the sunlight.
Marcus’ gaze locked onto the ring. His face paled even further. In five years, he had never given me a ring.
“I had the butler prepare a copy of Bianca’s medical history for you. Take it when you leave.”
I turned around.
“Marcus, we’re even now.”
And with that, I walked away.
