Chapter 11
I knew I shouldn’t meddle in other people’s affairs, but my conscience wouldn’t let me rest.
After much hesitation, I decided to tell Weston Carrington what I’d overheard.
But no matter how many times I tried, I couldn’t reach him by phone.
By the time I arrived at Edgewood Villa, flames were already devouring it.
I immediately called 911.
Realizing Weston might still be inside, I soaked my coat, covered my nose and mouth, and rushed in.
Through the choking black smoke, I found him collapsed at the bedroom door, unconscious.
The fire crackled all around, threatening to consume him.
I tried to lift him, but he was too heavy. I could only drag him inch by Inch towards
dsafety.
Smoke seared my lungs, and the intense heat burned my eyes.
By the time I pulled him outside, I collapsed.
When I awoke, my world was shrouded in darkness.
I had missed my flight. I had lost my sight.
I clawed at my face in anguish, unable to accept it.
I was once a celebrated artist, now, I couldn’t even see color.
The Carrington family, knowing they owed me, forced Weston to marry me.
People whispered that I was lucky–a fallen socialite who landed a rich husband,
They also called me ruthless, accusing me of blinding myself just to secure the marriage.
Only I knew that I was the victim all along.
I used to want to explain, but Weston never listened.
Now, when he finally learned to listen, Ino longer wanted to speak.
Our story had ended the day the fire engulfed that house.
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“Celeste
His eyes, usually so cold, seemed to shimmer with stardust–or maybe it was tears.
“You never spoke up, so I ignored that you were suffering too.”
“Celeste, I owe you a life. Let me spend the rest of mine repaying it.”
“No.”
That was all I said.