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“What are you doing?”
His voice rasped with sleep.
Cecilia tugged at her wrist, trapped in his grip. “I need to check on Gwendolyn. He might wake up crying if he doesn’t see me.”
Wesley refused to release her.
“Luciano’s there.”
Cecilia paused, her voice as heavy as the shadows. “Wesley, he’s just a child.”
Qin Ping’an was three. Was Wesley really threatened by a toddler?
In the dim light, Wesley studied her cool expression, his brow furrowed with impatience.
Slowly, his fingers uncurled. /
The master bedroom door clicked open, then shut.
Wesley pressed a hand over his eyes. The child was never what truly unsettled him.
Cecilia eased open the door to find Luciano propped against the headboard, fully dressed as if he’d been up for hours.
She knew–he’d dressed early to spare her discomfort when she visited.
She settled beside him at the bedside.
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Luciano glanced sideways. “He let you come?”
Cecilia brushed her fingers over Gwendolyn’s cheek. “This is my choice. He has no say.”
Luciano chuckled softly, “You, as always, have your own opinions.”
Cecilia paused her hand, “You remember?”
He had said this before.
“Only remembered a little bit.”
After learning about what happened three years ago from Mrs. Wilkinson, Luciano went back to the hospital for a reexamination. His amnesia was due to the blood clot still pressing on his brain. He had started taking medication again recently.
Occasionally, he could recall some past scenes, but for some reason, the things he remembered were all related to Cecilia, and not once had he recalled anything about Priscilla.
Cecilia patted Gwendolyn gently and asked about his work.
“Everything’s fine.”
Luciano had gone into politics as arranged by his family, and it had been smooth sailing.
After a moment of silence.
Luciano said, “I heard Wesley gave you a production line?”
Cecilia propped her head up and nodded, “Yeah, from what I heard at the factory, they’re renovating four out of five production lines, and the remaining one is for me.
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“Renovating?”
“Yes, it seems they don’t plan to continue.”
Luciano looked up at the cabinet not far away, thinking about what Mrs. Wilkinson had said.
He figured it probably had nothing to do with Wesley.
After all, if it were Wesley, he wouldn’t shut down the perfume production line.
Who else in the Carlton family would do it?
I really wish my memory would come back soon.
I can’t figure it out, and my head is throbbing faintly.
Luciano said, “Get some more sleep. I’ll take Gwendolyn downstairs when she wakes up.‘
Cecilia, being pregnant, was always more tired.
Cecilia nodded, lay down beside Gwendolyn, and soon fell asleep.
When she woke up, it was already nine o’clock.
Luciano and Gwendolyn were no longer in the room.
She went to the master bedroom to wash up and then headed downstairs.
The maid saw her and immediately brought over breakfast, “Mrs. Carlton.”
Cecilia glanced at the living room. Wesley and Luciano were playing with Gwendolyn, a happy scene.
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After finishing breakfast, she planned to go to the hospital.
Wesley took the car keys and wanted to accompany her.
Cecilia didn’t say anything, but Luciano said, “Go ahead. I’ll take care of Gwendolyn.”
“Okay.”
At the hospital, before reaching Corrine’s ward, they heard arguing from Larissa’s ward nearby.
Holden’s voice was loud, “Larissa, come with me to the police station and explain that you instigated Juniper.“–
Larissa’s sobbing was particularly distinct, “It wasn’t me, really not me. Juniper went on her own. I tried to talk her out of it.”
Mrs. Bradshaw chimed in, “Your daughter messed up, yet you want Larissa to take the blame? Since when is that fair? She’s Wesley’s own
sister–don’t you dare go too far.”
Holden froze. “Own sister?”
Few knew Larissa was Brendon’s biological daughter and Wesley’s blood sister.
Wesley strode inside. Larissa gazed at him with teary eyes. “Brother.”
Mrs. Bradshaw rushed oyer. “Wesley, talk some sense into Mr. Johnson. He insists Larissa takes the fall for his daughter.”
Holden frowned at Wesley. “Larissa is your sister?”
“Mm.”
Wesley gave a curt/nod.
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Holden fell silent.
He’d never liked Larissa. If Johan hadn’t suddenly lost his mind, swearing he’d marry no one else, Holden would’ve found Johan a wife of proper social standing.
When Juniper got into trouble, Holden flew into a rage upon learning Larissa had instigated it.
But now Larissa had shifted from foster sister to blood kin-
complicating everything.
Even as a foster sister, Wesley had obeyed her every wish. With her status elevated, he’d only spoil her more.
After a long pause, Holden stated coldly, “I demand answers for this.”
Cecilia walked in, “The law has its own provisions, Mr. Holden. What explanation do you want?”
Holden’s face darkened.
Compared to Larissa, he disliked Cecilia even more.
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chapter267

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