When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him

Chapter 46 What Did You Call Me

Having been an orphan all her life, the one thing she despised the most was being looked down upon by others.

Zachary’s words reminded her of the countless times she had embarrassed herself trying to fit in with the wealthy elite years ago. The humiliation she endured and the loss of face were beyond measure.

“Once I become lady of the Rainsworth family, no one will dare to look down on me!”

It seemed that Stella wasn’t aware of Cecilia’s return as she wasn’t mentioned.

Zachary had been waiting outside Ninth Ville.

“Mr. Zachary, Ms. Smith hasn’t stepped out at all today. Should I knock on the door?” The bodyguard didn’t dare to keep him waiting.

Yet, Zachary declined. “No need, I’ll just wait for her here.”

Upon learning of Cecilia’s return yesterday, he experienced an unprecedented surge of excitement. He was so eager to find her immediately, to ask her about the events of the past.

However, every time he thought about how he had mistreated Cecilia in the past, he found it hard to approach her casually.

He ended up waiting for over two hours.

Last night, Cecilia had indulged in ice–cold water, which left her with a chill and a heavy, foggy feeling in her head.

Sven had bought her medicine, but even after she took it, she still didn’t feel well.

She slipped on a coat, concealing the scratches from yesterday, and stepped out of the mansion, hoping to clear her mind with a walk outside.

Despite it being summer, she, dressed in long sleeves and pants, didn’t feel the heat.

The doctor said she had a cold constitution and that what happened last night nearly landed her back in the hospital.

It seemed she would need to think things through more carefully in the future.

Cecilia was walking along, oblivious to the MPV parked not far away. When she was about to pass by again, Zachary couldn’t help but rush out of the car.

“C–Cecilia!”

Cecilia halted in her tracks, taken aback as she turned around to look at him.

She didn’t respond.

Zachary walked toward her, overwhelmed by a flood of questions. But when he spoke, all he could ask was, “How have you been these past years?”

How have you been?

Cecilia sneered inwardly.

Didn’t this guy always want me to be doing poorly?

She pressed her lips together tightly, clutching the pepper spray she always carried with her. She was curious to see how he would try to handle her this time.

When Zachary saw that she remained silent, he assumed she hadn’t brought her hearing aid.

“Wasn’t it just a slight hearing problem? Why can’t she hear what I’m saying?”Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

Cecilia’s long hair draped over her shoulders, concealing her hearing aid.

Seeing his misunderstanding, she chose not to explain, and simply continued walking forward.

Zachary followed her, swiftly grabbing her wrist. “Has your condition worsened? Let me take to the hospital.”

Condition worsened? The hospital?

Such behavior from Zachary made Cecilia question whether he was plotting to deal with her in a different way.

Cecilia remembered a time two years after her marriage to Nathaniel when they went to a New Year’s reunion.

Zachary unexpectedly changed his attitude, calling her his sister–in–law and letting her join the party.

However, when she arrived at the party without Nathaniel, the silver–spooned kids made her the butt of their jokes, pouring glass after glass of red wine over her head.

At that time, Zachary was seated at the head of the table, watching everything with a gleaming smile, no different from a devil.

He had even arranged for a carpet of roses, thorns intact, to be laid out. Pointing at it, he asked, “Little deaf one, do you really enjoy hearing people call you ‘sister–in–law‘ that much? If you dare to walk barefoot on these roses for just three minutes, I will make everyone present acknowledge your status!”

Back then, Cecilia had actually believed him.

The thought of the piercing, bone–deep pain, humiliation, and fear made Cecilia abruptly pull her hand away.

She looked at Zachary, forcefully suppressing the anger brewing within her.

“Sir,” she began, “my silence doesn’t mean I can’t hear you. It simply means I choose not to respond.”

Zachary’s throat tightened.

The usually eloquent and versatile Zachary, who had not only pursued studies in medicine, but also in law and international business, was surprisingly at a loss for words at that moment.

After a long silence, he finally spoke up. “What did you call me?”