Chapter 4

Regardless, I had to give Cyrus a proper send-off.

[Where are you?]

I sent Celia a message, but I received no reply.

I had no choice but to head home first.

As soon as I opened the door, I saw candlelight flickering in the dim living room.

Mason sat at one end of the dining table in my pajamas. His hair was still wet, and Celia enjoyed a candlelit dinner with him.

Celia was cheerfully placing a piece of steak onto his plate.

“Mason dear, come try this black pepper beef and tell me if it’s good.”

When she turned and saw me, she was startled. Her fork clattered to the floor.

Celia stood up in a panic.

“Didn’t you say you weren’t coming back?”

Realizing she had misspoken, she quickly explained herself, “Mason fell into the pool while he was protecting me. I didn’t want him to catch a cold, so I told him to go take a shower.

“He didn’t have any change of clothes with him, so I just lent him your pajamas. You don’t mind, do you?”

I had already given up on her. A piece of clothing meant nothing to me. I shook my head.

Celia thought I did not mind, so she happily tried to pull me over to eat together. “I made all this food myself. Here, have some.”

Back when we were at our poorest and most miserable state, she never once cooked.

She had learned to make a whole table of dishes just for Mason.

They had long since crossed the line between bodyguard and employer, but Celia was too stubborn to ever admit it.

I held out my hand and demanded, “Give me back my bank card.”

Celia was stunned.

“What do you need that for?”

I did not explain myself like I usually would. I just said impatiently, “None of your business. Just give it.”

Perhaps I sounded harsh, or perhaps she felt guilty. Either way, she did not argue.

She just nodded and went to the bedroom to get it.

While I stood there waiting, Mason came up to me.

Without Celia around, he dropped the act and asked tauntingly, “What is a cheap little card like that good for? Celia has already transferred all the money to me. I used it to buy a car.

“Oh, and it’s the BMW that killed your brother.”

I caught my breath and turned sharply to look at him.

I had wondered how such a coincidence could happen. So, it turned out that Mason had sent someone to kill Cyrus.

Rage surged through me. I landed punch after punch on him.

He did not fight back. He just looked at me with a provocative grin and silently took the hits.

Celia rushed out in a fluster and tried to stop me.

“Ethan, stop it right now! Are you trying to kill him?”

I was already blinded by fury. My ears were ringing, and I could not hear a thing.

When she saw Mason’s mouth bleed, she gritted her teeth, grabbed the wine bottle off the table, and smashed it against my head.

Red wine mixed with blood streamed down my face.

Only then did I stop.

Celia hastily helped Mason up. She touched his bruised and swollen face as she said worriedly, “Are you crazy? Why don’t you fight back or at least get out of the way when he hits you?”

Mason staggered to his feet, dragged himself in front of me, straightened up, and said stubbornly, “Mr. Grant is my boss. Whatever he does to me, I’ll take it.

“Mr. Grant, if you’re upset, you can take it out on me.

“Go ahead, keep hitting me if you want. Just don’t fire me. All I care about is continuing to work for Celia.”