Chapter 103 On a Pedestal
elf aloof from Sylvia, showing as much
Throughout their marriage, Cyril always hel warmth as a winter in Alaska. He never asked how her day was or if the cloudy moods at home rained on her parade. Even when gossip about Sylvia’s tough times whispered in the wind, he stayed silent, figuring she got what she signed up for when she tricked her way into marrying him.
But after the ink dried on their divorce papers, Cyril’s mind started to buzz with second thoughts. He knew the real story behind their wedding better than anyone. Sure, Sylvia had come to him with a marriage proposition and a promise to lend him a hand. Still, the stories swirling around painted her as a desperate bride, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.
In Cyril’s eyes, Sylvia wanted to help, but her methods were as messy as a kid’s room. That’s why he’d always kept her at arm’s length–using her to tick off his own boxes and nothing more. She hadn’t asked for a single penny after the split. He thought it was just another one of her ploys, a tactic to win him back. But today, after hearing what Bonnie had spilled, he started to question everything.
“Do you have any idea what I went through after marrying you? You knew what was happening, but you let it all happen, just to see me pushed around by your family. Now the truth’s out, and you can’t handle it, huh?” Sylvia’s life with the Cyrils had been as rough as a cactus garden. Everyone thought they could step on her, and she was done pretending Cyril was innocent.
“When we got married, you used me just as much to escape your own mess. I left with dignity, making no scene. And don’t think I won’t stand up for myself,” Sylvia said with that trademark calm in her voice. “And if you can’t keep your sister’s sharp tongue in check, I won’t hesitate to have someone teach her a lesson.”
It was a head–scratcher, really. The Cyrils were big league, a powerhouse of a family. They’d hit financial skids before Cyril took the reins and saved them from nosediving into bankruptcy. But raising a daughter to throw tantrums like a toddler in a candy store? That wasn’t part of the playbook.
And it wasn’t just Bonnie causing a stir. Michelle, raised in a mansion with maids and money, had started out as smart as a whip. Somewhere along the line, though, she’d turned into a firecracker, snappy and unreasonable just like her niece.
Taking a long breath, Cyril looked at Bonnie like he was seeing her clearly for the first time, realizing she had crossed a line.
“Fly back overseas tomorrow. I’ll have someone keep an eye on you. Stop making a spectacle
of yourself,” he said, his words stinging sharper than a slap.
But Bonnie’s pride was prickled. “You think I’m being embarrassing? Aren’t you the one who let all this slide? You were just as unwilling to marry Sylvia as I was to welcome her. Everything we did to her, you knew about it. … ad her days were, you must have known. Why are you throwing me under the bus now?”
As the siblings turned on each other like a soap opera showdown, the media was having a field day. Reporters buzzed around like bees, snapping photos and rolling video, their recorders catching every word. These juicy bits would hit the headlines the next day, their ticket to the big leagues.
“Tomorrow, you’re going abroad. If I hear any whisper that you’re slacking off, I’ll cut you off. Your allowance, gone. And don’t even think about coming back,” he warned. Blood may be thicker than water, but it seemed there wasn’t much of it to begin with between them. Cyril was a businessman at heart–if his sister was nothing but trouble, he had no problem sending her to a place where she couldn’t cause any.
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