Chapter 41: A Talentless Primadonna

Stella's expression was unreadable. She couldn't decipher what was happening. For four years, Zachary had been a changed man, ignoring her every request. As for Nathaniel, Stella had little confidence in his willingness to help. Still, Stella believed she could obtain anything she desired. She instructed her agent, "Find a way, no matter the cost, to acquire her composition."

After disconnecting from Central Media, a chill flickered in Cecelia's usually calm eyes. No one understood Stella better than she did. Over the years, Stella's talent in acting or music had remained conspicuously absent. She thrived on stealing others' work and livelihoods; without Nathaniel and Zachary's support, her career would have ended long ago. Few understood the unique challenges of composing music as a hearing-impaired person.

For years, Cecelia had toiled tirelessly, providing for her two children and Martha, constantly working, fearing for their future. Her current income comfortably supported her family. Why would she sell her composition to Stella for mere money?

Returning home, Cecelia set down her phone and headed for a bath. As she soaked, she considered how to swiftly achieve her goal. Perhaps from exhaustion, she unintentionally fell asleep in the tub. A call from her best friend, Vivian, startled her awake.

"Ceci, I'll be back in a couple of days."

Cecelia emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a bathrobe. "I'll throw you a welcome party."

"Sure. How have you been? Has Nathaniel been difficult? And that pretentious Stella—does she know you're back?" Vivian's concern for Cecelia's solitude was evident.

"Stella doesn't know yet, but she will soon," Cecelia replied. Walking to the window, she gazed out at the warm summer evening. "As for Nathaniel," she added, "don't worry. I won't let him bully me."

The doorbell rang mid-conversation. Nine o'clock at night. Who could it be? Without Sven, Cecelia felt uneasy. Sven usually stood guard, but lately, he'd been tirelessly protecting her, leaving him no time to rest. She'd sent him home for a break.

She descended the stairs, checking the security footage at the entrance. Her breath caught. Why was he here? Nathaniel stood outside, his tall figure dominating her doorway. Under the streetlight, his expression was impassive. He was there; there was no reason to refuse him entry. She opened the door.

Cecelia, in a loose white bathrobe, her long hair loose around her shoulders, leaned against the doorframe, gazing at him. "I wonder who's seeking me at this hour. Is there something you require, Mr. Rainsworth?"

Nathaniel stared at her attire, momentarily stunned. The transformation in Cecelia from her previously reserved self was striking. For some unknown reason, he felt a sudden longing to understand her life over the years.

He explained, "I came to tell you about our chance meeting."

Nathaniel's eyes narrowed, as if assessing Cecelia. The intensity of his gaze made her palms sweat. She forced calm, saying, "Mr. Rainsworth, you don't intend to stand outside all night, do you?"

Nathaniel abruptly stepped forward, pinning Cecelia against the wall before quickly closing the door. The air thickened. Leaning against the cold wall, Cecelia was about to speak when his lips covered hers, pulling her into a deep embrace.