Chapter 2
After burying Amaris, Cynthia turned and walked quietly back into the house.
“You there-clean every inch of this place, top to bottom!” Morinne Ayla barked, her voice ringing through the grand foyer, “And all that damn cat’s things-get rid of them. All. I don’t want a single item left behind!”
She pointed again, “That painting-take it down. And the carpet. And that Majolica. Replace them all!”
Morinne had already finished directing the movers to unload her luggage. Now, she stood in the center of the living room like a queen issuing royal decrees, commanding the staff with an imperious wave of her hand.
Cynthia opened her mouth to speak-but stopped.
Alexander’s voice echoed in her mind: Morinne is the mistress of this house now.
So she said nothing. She just stood there in silence, watching.
Right then, the front door opened. Alexander Lowell walked in, and his brows furrowed at the drastic changes in the
décor.
Before he could say anything, Morinne slid up beside him and looped her arm through his. “Alex,” she said sweetly, “I updated the residence’s style to something more my taste. You don’t mind, do you?”
At her words, Alexander instinctively glanced over at Cynthia.
She used to decorate every corner of this home. She had once told him it felt too sterile, too cold. A house needed warmth
-plants, soft hues, personal touches.
He’d chuckled, ruffling her hair, “Still missing something though, isn’t it?”
The little girl had grinned, scooped up the kitten, and waved its paw.
“We need Amaris!”
“And what else?” he had teased.
Until finally, she’d thrown her arms around him and giggled, “Me, and you, Uncle Alex. That’s what makes it home.”
His expression flickered. He could still remember her youthful, radiant smile from that day-so vivid it felt like yesterday.
Now, the house looked completely different. Even Amaris was gone. But Cynthia hadn’t made a fuss.
She stood there calmly. Only the tear stains around her eyes hinted that she had cried. Everything else-expression,
posture, tone-was composed.
Alexander tamped down the strange tightness in his chest and said gently, “Of course I don’t mind. You’re the mistress of this house. You can do whatever you like.”
Morinne beamed, clearly pleased. She stood on tiptoe, arms winding around his neck, and leaned in for a kiss.
Cynthia looked away and quietly walked upstairs.
Back in her room, she began gathering everything that had to do with Alexander-her old diaries, love letters, every treasured memory connected to him.
She had made her decision. There was no point clinging to the past.
Chapter 2
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Everything went into a cardboard box marked for trash.
She hugged the box to her chest and carried it downstairs.
On the living room sofa, Morinne was nestled in Alexander’s arms, tilting her head to kiss him again.
As Cynthia passed by with the box, Alexander’s voice suddenly rang out-sharp and cold. “What are you carrying?”
She paused, answering without emotion, “Trash. I’m taking it out.”
Without waiting for a response, she quickened her pace and stepped outside, tossing the box into the dumpster.
When she returned, she didn’t go back in right away.
Instead, she stood at the front door, eyes fixed on the smart lock keypad.
The soft beeping of the buttons echoed repeatedly as she entered codes.
Upstairs, Alexander frowned at the sound and eventually walked over to check. When he saw her at the lock, he paused.
“What are you doing?”
His tall figure cast a shadow over her. That familiar scent-cologne-surrounded her.
Once, it would’ve made her blush uncontrollably, her heart racing wildly.
But now, she stood still, unaffected, like a calm sea after a storm.
“The door code used to be my birthday,” she said evenly, “But now that Morinne’s moved in, it should be changed. Uncle
Alex, when’s her birthday?”
Alexander didn’t answer.
His gaze stayed locked on her face, studying her. Something was different. Not just the way she spoke, but the way she carried herself. This wasn’t the same girl from before.
Cynthia’s fingers hovered over the keypad, “Uncle Alex, when’s her birthday?”
Still no answer.
She looked up slowly, her voice softer now. “Don’t you know?”
Just then, Morinne stepped over with a smirk. “Of course he knows. It was just five days ago-he threw me a surprise
party, remember?”
She lifted her chin proudly, showing off the necklace around her neck.
Cynthia nodded politely, entered the code, and confirmed the change. Then she turned and walked back upstairs.
She never once looked back at the man whose eyes remained on her long after she was gone.
Chapter 2
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