Cecil scoffed but didn't deny it.
But Sheila knew she had hit the nail on the head.
"Why were you fighting?" she asked, before sighing. "Never mind. It's already done, the reason doesn't matter. Just... don't do it again, Cecil."
"After what he did to you, I can't even throw a punch?" Cecil snapped. "I'll beat him to a pulp every time I see him!"
When Cecil had taken her away last time, he had a pretty good idea of what she had gone through. Even though he hadn't asked, it didn't take a genius to guess what Edmond would do when locked in a room alone with her.
Besides, Cecil had looked into it and found out they used to date.
And that Sheila had been the one to end things.
As far as Cecil was concerned, good riddance.
A bastard like that didn't deserve Sheila.
Over the past few days, Cecil had been swamped with work and hadn't crossed paths with Edmond.
Until yesterday.
He had already been feeling under the weather—coughing, aching everywhere—when he ran into him.
It was a classic case of enemies on a narrow path. The glares they exchanged were practically lethal.
One wrong word, and Cecil was throwing a punch.
Edmond wasn't one to back down, and the two of them went at it.
Ultimately, Cecil's physical condition put him at a disadvantage.
He had been running a high fever and ended up taking a hard hit to the face.
He stumbled back and was immediately swarmed by his bodyguards.
That was when they realized he was burning up.
They rushed him to the hospital, where tests confirmed it had developed into pneumonia.
Even then, he refused to rest. He stayed on his phone, barking orders and managing his business.


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