webnovel

unspoken love and cross the line

Business magnate Tristan Harrington, from a prestigious family, was renowned for his striking appearance. Marrying young, his union with Cecilia Sterling was arranged by his family, intended more for business than love. The couple lived separate lives, only reuniting during family gatherings, fueling rumors of an impending separation. While not entirely distant, they adhered to a silent bedroom rule: Tristan on the left, Cecilia on the right. One evening, while distracted, Cecilia's foot crossed over to Tristan's side. He immediately pulled her over, his intent gaze warning her of the boundary she'd crossed. This line, drawn on their first marital night, became a symbol Tristan had been vigilant about. Now, Cecilia had unintentionally blurred it.

Satulovewriting · Urban
Not enough ratings
13 Chs

Silent Pain: Secrets and Disappointment in a Relationship

No pain without comparison. Cecilia touched the spot on her head where she was bumped; the pain had completely dissipated. But she still felt a bit dissatisfied in her heart. Who is this person? Can't even say something nice. Truly a waste of a good-looking face.

She turned her body away, with her back facing him, out of sight, out of mind.

Tristan glanced sideways, half-closed his eyes, and scrutinized her darkened head for quite a while before nonchalantly retracting his gaze.

Cecilia noticed the gaze behind her and turned to look at Tristan. His hands were resting on his crossed legs, leaning backward with closed eyes. The collar of his shirt, inside the suit, had inexplicably unbuttoned two buttons, exposing his sexy collarbones. His thin lips slightly pursed, seeming a bit weary.

It seemed that her earlier perception was just an illusion; he was not looking at her.

Thinking about his relentless schedule, she subconsciously softened her breathing and carefully adjusted her seating posture.

The phone buzzed, making a loud sound within the quiet car compartment. Cecilia quickly put her phone on silent mode.

Tristan was still awakened by the noise, his eyelashes slightly raised. He nonchalantly looked ahead, not saying anything.

Who could it be? Always choosing the wrong time to send her a message.

Cecilia opened WeChat and saw that Tristan's assistant, Claire, had sent her a document.

Directly opening the file to check the content, it was a summary made by Claire about what happened after Tristan decided to attend a fashion charity banquet tonight, and Lydia approached him. The document didn't mention why he attended the banquet, but it focused on reproducing the conversation between Lydia and Tristan.

Ever since their marriage, Claire always sent Cecilia Tristan's schedule to facilitate the couple's performance in front of both sets of parents.

Just now at the hotel, Cecilia realized that Lydia had encountered a setback with Tristan. She had originally wanted to ask him what reason Lydia used to approach him. However, Claire explained the whole story to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings between spouses and to prevent any impact on the collaboration between the Harrington and Sterling families.

It seems that there are benefits to having a cold and expressionless husband; he won't easily be deceived by superficial charm.

Cecilia replayed the sentence Tristan said about not recognizing someone on top several times, feeling a sense of relief.

Lydia believed that by marrying into the Sterling Family and changing her surname to call Dominic her father, she could become a daughter of the Sterling Family. Normally, she would flaunt Dominic's influence in front of those who were unaware, but she had even played her manipulative tricks on Tristan. It serves her right to have her true background exposed by Tristan to her face.

Cecilia despised Lydia and found pleasure in seeing her lose face.

As for Tristan, who made Lydia lose face, he seemed much more pleasing to the eye.

Thinking back to the incident where she bumped into the back of her head, it seemed that she was indeed lured by his charm as soon as she got on the car and threw a tantrum.

Seeing how he displayed extreme indifference in front of a hypocritical person, Cecilia took the initiative to strike up a conversation with him. "Everyone at the banquet hall was guessing who was so influential that they could invite Mr. Harrington to a charity gala. I wonder if it was done specifically to pick her up?"

Cecilia looked at him with a smiling, clear gaze.

Tristan remained silent for a moment before saying, "Adrian invited me to discuss business."

Cecilia was not surprised at his expected answer. She knew that someone like him, a workaholic, wouldn't attend such an event for any other reason. Lucy's mind must have been influenced by too many romantic dramas to think otherwise.

Silently, the car entered the highest mansion in the Center of Silver City. It was a duplex house spanning over 700 square meters, originally owned by Tristan Harrington. After their marriage, it became their marital home and was transferred to Cecilia Sterling's name.

One after another, they stepped out of the car and entered the elevator. Cecilia kicked off her high heels and walked barefoot on the polished floor, heading straight to the second floor. 

Tristan followed behind her. Today, she was wearing a black cocktail dress that reached just above her knees, revealing her long and fair legs. Her feet were petite, delicate, and elegantly slender, with round and shiny toes painted in red nail polish, contrasting sharply with her black dress. 

He gazed at her legs, his dark eyes deep and his voice heavy, "Put on your slippers."

Cecilia automatically ignored his voice, pretending not to hear. The floor felt a little chilly in this weather, and she tiptoed and hopped upstairs.

The entire second floor consisted of only a master bedroom, while the remaining space was transformed into a walk-in closet, a gym, and two study rooms for Tristan and Cecilia to use as home offices. However, Cecilia's study room was rarely utilized. She rarely worked overtime until Tristan's sleeping time, so when she worked at home, she would just sit on the daybed in the bedroom.

Once she reached the upstairs, Cecilia placed her bag in the walk-in closet and grabbed a thin blanket, covering it over her legs as she comfortably reclined on the leather armchair in the bedroom, leisurely scrolling through her phone. She sent a WeChat message asking Lucy Preston if she had arrived home.

The bedroom door opened again, and Tristan entered, holding a pair of women's slippers.

Peripherally catching sight of him, Cecilia unconsciously typed in the chat box.

"He's here, he's here, with his cozy slippers again."

Lucy must not have her phone on hand, as she didn't reply immediately.

Approaching her, Tristan discarded the slippers on the floor and looked down at her from his superior position.

Cecilia turned off her phone screen, looked up with a forced smile, and wiggled her foot, saying, "I'm not cold."

Expressionless, he stated, "Put them on."

With his distinct facial features, high-bridged nose, and deep, piercing eyes, he appeared particularly chilly when not smiling, exuding an air of superiority and disdain towards others.

Cecilia believed he must be a man with a strong desire for control, accustomed to everyone obeying him in his company. And now, he treated her as a subordinate at home. But she was not his subordinate. She was his wife through a business alliance, or to be more accurate, his cohabitating roommate who did not need to listen to him.

Intentionally, she stomped her foot on the ground, tilted her chin, revealing a slender and fair neck, and smiled, "I prefer being barefoot."

Although she was smiling, there was a hint of arrogance and provocation in her entire demeanor.

In the face of her provocation, Tristan suddenly hooked the corner of his lips and his eyes lifted. "Walking barefoot on the floor will make your feet dirty, and the bed sheets will also get dirty."

"...What?!"

What a joke??

Cecilia instantly exploded with anger, sitting up straight with a tense back. She had a hundred insulting words bottled up inside her. She knew Tristan, this dog, couldn't come up with anything good to say. Looking at the hint of redness in the corners of his eyes that hadn't faded yet, he always became like this after drinking, even if it was just one or two glasses. His eye area would turn red. Not wanting to argue with him, she angrily put on her shoes and glared at him while he wasn't paying attention.

Tristan's phone rang, and he went out to answer the call.

Lucy had already sent her several messages.

[Who's there, who's there?]

[Is it your husband? Hahaha, is your husband afraid of you walking barefoot and feeling cold? It seems like your husband is quite caring, a daddy's-boy type of boyfriend.]

In a split second, Lucy had already imagined a sweet love story.

Cecilia: [He's not caring at all!]

Lucy: [Why are you so rude? Do you still remember that you're a daughter of a wealthy family? No, now you're a wealthy wife.]

Cecilia: [I told him I'm not cold, but he said that if I don't wear shoes, my feet will get dirty and the bed sheets will get dirty.]

[He actually dislikes my dirty feet!!!]

Lucy: [Well... that's a bit too much of him. Punch him.]

Cecilia: [I can't beat him.]

Lucy: [Make a tight little fist and punch his chest, act cute, then throw yourself on him.]

Cecilia: [...]

She realized that she and Lucy were on different wavelengths. No matter what she said, Lucy automatically assumed that Cecilia was flirting and teasing with Tristan, sometimes even with a hint of innuendo.