The atmosphere in the hospital corridor cackled with tension.

"Your father is away on a business trip." A voice drawled lazily, "Let me inform you that your wedding is in three days. Be prepared."

Felicity's delicate face was screwed with disgust and animosity as she stared impatiently at the silent young woman in front of her.

It was clear that she took no liking to the daughter of her husband's ex-wife.

If Ceces hadn't chosen her and her family also relying on this relationship, she would have never let the bastard in.

"If it wasn't for your father, a wild girl like you would never be able to Marry the Ceces family. You don't know the lifetime of blessings bestowed on you."

Cynthia bit back a snort on hearing the condescending tone her stepmother used.

People who didn't know the truth really thought she was 'Lucky'.

Whereas, the only son of the Ceces was said to be seriously ill and had been receiving treatment outside the country. Marrying him would be akin to being a widow.

But her so-called, 'good father' hadn't hesitated to push her over like she didn't mean anything to him.

"You are not my mother," Cynthia said, raising her face that was as pale as snow. "You should fight for 'blessings' like this for your daughter."

Her facial features were extremely beautiful, almost faultless but right this moment, her brows were arched indifferently. An expression Felicity found rude.

"Crack."

Felicity struck her face with a heavy hand.

"If it weren't that you are slightly useful, just based on the tone you spoke to me with, you would have died." She spat angrily, "Our family has already agreed to this marriage. And if you need to be tied up and marched up the altar, then so be it!"

Cynthia rubbed her face, which was already feeling numb.

Felicity tilted her chin towards the direction of the ward, "Dear Cynthia, I advise you to comply. Even if you are proving stubborn, don't forget that the old woman is still here."

Cynthia's breath caught in her throat and Felicity smirked.

She continued, "If you dare to run, I'll do it right now. All it takes is to get someone to pull out the dialysis tube and withdraw the huge amount of money…"

Cynthia clenched her hands tightly, and anger spread in her heart along with a dull and numb sense of helplessness.

Felicity was right. There was no way she could refuse now.

Because she had just rejected the doctor's advice that her director suggested her to continue her study. But even if she went to work, she wouldn't have enough time to gather the fees to pay for her grandmother's medical bills.

Cynthia sucked in a deep breath, "Fine, I agree to the marriage."

"It's good we have this all sorted out earlier. The old woman could suffer a little less agony. You can have a better life through the marriage," Felicity had a smug grin on her face as she pulled on a pair of sunglasses, "When you are finally married, I promise you that we'll be responsible for the rest of your grandmother's expenses."

After that, she turned around and left.

It wasn't until the arrogant figure completely disappeared from the corridor did Cynthia let out a harsh breath, her legs giving way beneath her and she leaned on the door frame, bending over.

"I'm so sorry Grandma." She choked, fighting back tears. "I know you said I shouldn't succumb to the pressure from those people but I can't let you suffer."

~***~

Three days later.

This was probably the most deserted wedding ever done because the Ceces family only sent a car to pick Cynthia up.

Just to pretend to be prodigious people, the Morgans still put up a great show.

When she was about to leave, Felicity called her to a stop.

"It's best for you to be obedient when you get there. Otherwise, I can't guarantee what'll happen at the hospital."

Cynthia's long eyelashes moved slightly, her long and narrow eyes drooping down, hiding the resentment that was about to overflow in her eyes.

The black Spyker peeled away from Cynthia's house and streaked across the highway as traffic increased significantly. She looked out of the window, her facial expression bland and indifferent.

"Where are you going now?" she asked the driver.

"Miss Morgan, Madam has prepared dinner and is waiting for you and Mr. Ceces to come over."

She frowned slightly and asked another question, "Isn't Mr. Ceces recuperating abroad?"

The driver remained silent and after a while, Cynthia understood and she couldn't hold back the sneer that rose to her lips. In that place, she wasn't allowed to ask questions but just follow carefully laid-out arrangements.

The car drove through most of the city and soon arrived at the Ceces House.

The gate was opened and a majestic but solemn mansion stood inside, dominating the entire place. The most powerful people in Minneapolis gathered here. It was a prosperous and exciting place that attracted much attention but it was also the most dangerous place.

For Cynthia, it was just jumping from the frying pan to fire.

The courtyard was quiet, with meticulously trimmed trees and a perfect lawn. A black Bentley was parked not so far away.

The people in the Bentley hadn't moved yet but the driver instantly stopped the car and walked over. He looked respectful.

On seeing this, Cynthia couldn't help but glance at the Vehicle curiously. All of a sudden, the window of the Bentley, directly opposite Cynthia slowly lowered, revealing the silhouette of a man.

He exuded a Kingly Aura, his suit so severely pressed that there wasn't a single wrinkle and it was buttoned to the top. The right side of the handsome and arrogant face was shadowed by the lack of light while the other side was clearly defined. His expression was strangely compelling.

As though sensing her gaze, the man raised his eyes, his cold eyes as blue as the morning sky reflecting in the ocean. Their eyes met and a breath caught in her throat.

Asides from his arrogance, the man looked perfect. So much so that in the entertainment industry where handsome men are mostly found, he should be a top figure but she has never seen any reports about him in any magazine.

In the blink of an eye, the man looked away, with a bored expression as if she was invincible.

It felt ridiculous. Only Cynthia didn't know the flutter she caused in his heart.

"Mr. Ceces, aren't you staying home for dinner? Today is…"

He trailed off when he heard Keagan Ceces murmur a faint, 'hmm'. His voice was so cold and impersonal, leaving no room for arguments, he had clearly made a decision long ago.

The driver nodded respectfully and didn't ask any more questions.

Silently, he watched the Bentley drive off. He stood for a while, and then remembered that Cynthia was in the car behind him.

"Miss Morgan, please get out of the car. Madam is already waiting."

The people who came in and left here were either rich or celebrities so there was no need for Cynthia to question their identity.

She nodded, and followed behind the driver.

They walked over to the large building and a servant took her in.

A girl in her twenties was walking down the stairs, her fingers wrapped around the carved handrails. When the girl saw Cynthia, a trace of disgust flashed through her almond-colored eyes.