Faux Vows, True Desires

Chapter 439

But Owen's refusal to take advantage of others' vulnerability was something that Cecilia found quite admirable about him.

Once she stopped viewing Owen through a tinted lens, she began to notice his many merits.

While Cecilia was taking a long, relaxing bath, Owen made a call to his bodyguard Jay, instructing him, “Jay, hustle over to the Yates' residence, and whether you see my mother-in-law or Devon, you tell them the same thing—ask them to send over a set of Cecilia's clothes. If they ask you any questions, just play dumb. Let them think what they will.”

Cecilia had spent the previous night keeping him company at a social event, and Owen was pretty sure the Yates family was aware of it. They hadn't stopped her, or if they had tried, they hadn't succeeded. Regardless, now that Cecilia had flirted with him and spent the night with him, it was time for the Yates family to be clued in.

They were a straight-laced and traditional bunch, and once they got wind of what had happened, it would undoubtedly work in his favor in his pursuit of Cecilia. He might be able to marry her sooner rather than later.

Worst case scenario, if the Yates didn't push Cecilia towards marriage, he could shamelessly knock on their door and have a serious talk with her parents about taking responsibility.

For Owen, it would be a win-win situation.

He admitted to himself that he was being a bit cunning, but he wasn't exactly a saint to begin with, so he felt no guilt.

“Alright, I’m on my way,” Jay replied, and once Owen hung up, the bodyguard quickly made his way to the Yates' residence.

Devon was out. Only Becca was in the yard, hanging up laundry.

When Jay rang the doorbell, Becca came over and recognized him. As she opened the door, she asked, “You're Mr. Martinez's bodyguard, aren't you? What's up? Where's Mr. Martinez?”

“Good day, ma'am. I'm Jay, Mr. Martinez's bodyguard. Mr. Martinez is still at Pinehurst Hotel. He overindulged last night at a business gathering.”

Jay didn't step into the yard, preferring to converse from the doorway. He respectfully continued, “He sent me to get a set of clothes for Ms. Yates.”

Becca's smile froze immediately.

She was aware that her daughter had accompanied Owen the previous night.

They had tried to dissuade her, but Cecilia was headstrong and their words fell on deaf ears.

The fact that Cecilia hadn't come home all night had left Becca restless, her mind racing with worries.

She had thought her daughter to be a girl of virtue, assuming that even if she hadn't returned home, nothing untoward would have happened with Owen.

Now, with Jay standing at her door asking for Cecilia's clothes, Becca's calm shattered.

“Did Cecilia get sick?” she asked, holding on to a sliver of hope.

Jay replied apologetically, “I’m afraid I don’t know the details. Mr. Martinez just instructed me to get Ms. Yates' clothes. But I do know that he and Ms. Yates are still together.”

Becca's face went through another round of color changes.

Knowing she wouldn't get any more information, she quickly went upstairs to get her daughter's clothes.

Soon, she returned with a bag and handed it to Jay.

“Then I must rush to the hotel,” Jay said, taking the bag. Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

“Of course,” Becca replied, watching Jay hurry off with the bag of Cecilia's clothes. After a deep sigh, she sprang into action, pulling her phone out to call Devon. As soon as he answered, she said, “Devon, I'm going to check on Cecilia's shop. Fix yourself something to eat or you can eat out if you prefer.”

“Sure, you go ahead,” Devon responded, his attention still fixed on his chess game with an old friend, not asking any further questions.

Becca hung up, quickly finished hanging the laundry, and then hopped on her electric scooter, donned her helmet, and rode off.

She was determined to wait at the coffee shop for her daughter and get a clear explanation.

Meanwhile, Cecilia was blissfully unaware of Owen's devious side.

She had assumed Owen simply had someone buy her a new set of clothes.

After soaking in the bathtub until the water turned cold, she finally got out, dressed in Owen's clothes, and stepped out of the bathroom just in time to hear Owen closing the front door.

“Who was that?” she asked as Owen entered with a bag in hand.

“It was Jay,” he replied, eyeing her rather than immediately handing over the bag. “You know, if you were a bit taller and bulkier, you'd fit right into my clothes.”

It wasn't her first time wearing his clothes. The time she was caught at the Neon Nectar Nightclub, he was furious, and she ended up in his clothes then too.

“Are you calling me short? I’m a woman. If you use the word ‘bulky’ and I actually was, I’d scare you to death.”

Owen chuckled, “My bad, I misspoke. You’re not short, you’re just right for me. Standing by your side, you nestling into my embrace, we’re quite the pair. I like it. I’m very satisfied.”

Cecilia aimed a playful kick at him.

He always had a way of saying the most irritating things.

“Cecilia, here's your clothes,” Owen said, unfazed by her kick and smiling even brighter.

He thought to himself, “It’s a sign of love.”

Cecilia took the bag and her expression darkened as she pulled out the clothes, “These really are my clothes.”

“Yep, they're yours. I’ve seen you wear them countless times. They're definitely not mine.”

Cecilia glared at him, teeth clenched, “Mr. Malicious, just you wait!”

She turned and stormed back into the bathroom.

Owen followed with an innocent look, asking, “Cecilia, what’s wrong? What did I do? Why the sudden change of heart? The clothes are really yours!”

Of course, they were hers!

She didn't need to ask; she knew he must have sent someone to her house to get them.

It looked like her mother had handed her clothes over.

Every time Cecilia thought about going home to face her nagging mother or the inevitable ear- tugging lecture, she felt a throbbing headache coming on.

Owen hadn't bothered to send over a new outfit for her, probably because he considered that new clothes would need a wash before wearing them. Instead, he'd had someone get an outfit from her place, a move that would undoubtedly set her family's minds racing with wild speculation.

It was like being put on the grill.

She refused to believe he hadn’t thought of that.

He was doing it on purpose.

That man was a walking shadow, a sly fox. Calling him Mr. Malicious wasn’t the least bit unjustified!

When Cecilia came out of the bathroom, freshly changed and fuming, a so-called peace offering awaited her.

"Cecilia, here's some coffee. Drink up. It’ll make you feel better," offered a voice, as a steaming cup of comfort was extended towards her.

And there was Owen, his handsome face all smiles.

The saying goes, 'you can't spit a smiling face' — and there he was, all caring and considerate with a cup of coffee, making it virtually impossible for her to unleash her fury on him.

His voice, gentle as a caress, floated to her ears, "Cecilia, I know you're angry, but have some coffee before you let it all out. We don’t want that headache getting any worse."