Chapter 187: Her Plan

At Daltonia Villa, after Nathaniel's return, all the heavily pollenated flowers had been removed from the garden. Cecilia expected Stella to return with him, eager to see the masterpiece he had prepared. Unexpectedly, he arrived alone.

"Have you eaten?" Nathaniel asked, finding her in the living room, engrossed in her writing.

Cecilia nodded. "Yes, I have."

Nathaniel glanced at the dining room; it was spotless. "I assumed you weren't coming home, so I didn't prepare dinner," Cecilia explained. Previously, she always prepared his favorite meals, though he rarely ate them. After moving abroad during the summer and becoming pregnant with Elliot and Jonathan, she'd often worked, planning their future, leaving cooking to Martha. Now, she had no desire to return to those kitchen-bound days.

Nathaniel showed no reaction. "I've already eaten," he lied. He'd returned early, expecting dinner, and hadn't eaten.

"Good," Cecilia said. "Vivian has a cold. I'll take her to the hospital later." In truth, she planned to investigate, using Vivian's appointment, whether the time was right for her to conceive. Nathaniel remained unconcerned.

At the hospital, Vivian was waiting. "Your appointment's ready," she said.

An hour later, the results confirmed the coming days were ideal for conception. En route, Vivian produced a box of medicine. "Here, take this," she said, handing it to Cecilia.

Cecilia found it odd and examined the contents: Viagra. Her expression changed. "No need," she said.

"Why not? What if he can't… perform?" Vivian whispered. "Most men…"

Embarrassed, Cecilia secretly accepted it. She wouldn't give up. "Will this affect the child?" she asked.

"No, I consulted a doctor," Vivian stated seriously. "For some men, it's the only way."

Cecilia was impressed by Vivian's resourcefulness. "You're truly impressive," she admitted.

"Of course," Vivian said proudly. "Give it your all tonight."

Returning home, Cecilia devised her plan: ply Nathaniel with drinks, then make her move. Success required preventing his retreat to his room.

Meanwhile, at the mansion, Nathaniel glanced at the clock—past nine. Cecilia hadn't returned. A phone call came; he assumed it was her, but it was his mother, Elena.

"Nathaniel, I heard you brought a child home," Elena said. "It's been almost half a month."

Nathaniel frowned. "Who told you that?"

Elena, having learned the truth from sources close to Nathaniel's assistant, Mason, pressed on. "It doesn't matter who told me. If it's true, you should have told me. I'll accept the child, no matter who the mother is."