Ignored When Chasing: Why Cry After I Got Engaged-Chapter 127: Damian Hawthorne, You’re Crazy

Cecilia was about to stop him, but Miles Sinclair’s hands were faster.

The moment he took the photos, Miles Sinclair’s pupils contracted.

"You had me followed?"

Cecilia didn’t speak, just looked at him coolly. "You just said you didn’t have any female friends. So, who is she?"

Miles Sinclair’s hand, holding the photos, trembled violently. He uncomfortably tossed them onto the table. "Cecilia, let me explain. She’s not my friend. She’s just chasing after me. Everyone says she’s my groupie, but I don’t like her at all."

’Groupie...’

’Doesn’t like her...’

Such familiar words. They were like a boomerang, returning to strike Cecilia with unerring accuracy.

When she had pursued Damian Hawthorne, people had also called her a groupie. And Damian had told everyone he didn’t like her, either.

"You looked so heartbroken for someone you don’t like." Cecilia remembered there were dozens of photos, taken from every angle. Under the high-definition lens, the look of anguish on Miles Sinclair’s face was perfectly clear.

’If you really don’t like her, why bother hiding her existence?’

After being exposed, a hint of embarrassment appeared on Miles Sinclair’s face. "I really don’t like her. I just see her as a little sister."

"Cecilia, I can’t believe you’d have someone follow me."

At this, his tone was filled with disappointment and sorrow.

He looked at Cecilia listlessly, the light in his eyes gradually fading.

Cecilia didn’t explain, just sighed softly. "Hugo, really, as long as I can see you alive and happy, I’m content. We haven’t seen each other in so long. Maybe we’ve all changed."

"Have I changed?" Miles Sinclair lowered his gaze, his voice listless. "Then what about you and Damian Hawthorne? You slept with him. You even had an abortion for him."

"Cecilia, who’s the one who really changed? You or me?"

Miles Sinclair’s words were like a thorn plunging viciously into Cecilia’s heart.

In an instant, a pain as sharp as a knife’s twist spread from her chest, nearly suffocating her.

The first time with Damian Hawthorne had been an accident, but many of the times that followed had been willing on her part.

Miles Sinclair was right. They had all changed.

"I’m sorry. At the time, I thought you were..."

"You thought I was dead, so you fell in love with someone else. That’s only human." Miles Sinclair’s voice held a trace of resentment and dissatisfaction. "Sometimes I think if I had just stayed dead, maybe you and Damian Hawthorne would be happier together."

"Well said."

Suddenly, the sound of clapping echoed. CLAP. CLAP.

Damian Hawthorne was standing by the door, his upper body leaning against the wall. His face was devastatingly handsome, his skin as smooth and fine as white porcelain.

He was smiling casually, the corners of his mouth turned up slightly with a roguish, devil-may-care air.

"You really shouldn’t have shown up." Damian put his hands in his pockets and slowly walked toward the pair. When he reached Cecilia’s side, he reached out and casually wrapped an arm around her waist. "If you really liked Cecilia, you wouldn’t mind her past, just like she doesn’t mind that you’ve had a girlfriend before."

Hearing this, Miles Sinclair’s pupils shrank. "Damian Hawthorne, was it you who investigated me?"

"If you have nothing to hide, you have nothing to fear. Why would you be afraid of an investigation if you were acting honorably?" Damian glanced down at Cecilia and said flatly, "That woman dated him."

"The Hugo in front of you is no longer the Hugo from your memories."

"Damian Hawthorne!" Miles Sinclair raised his voice. "She was having a severe depressive episode! I only agreed to be with her temporarily for the sake of her health, but I never liked her, not from beginning to end."

"Is that so?" Damian’s half-lidded eyes snapped open, revealing a fierce glint. "Then what are you trying to do by getting close to Cecilia now? Add another backup option?"

"You..."

"Enough." Cecilia pressed a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes. "I’m tired."

"I’ll take you to the hospital." Damian grabbed her wrist and started pulling her outside.

Cecilia was about to pull away, but when she saw Miles Sinclair getting ready to follow them, she sighed softly and didn’t resist Damian’s grip.

Seeing that Cecilia wasn’t struggling, Damian’s lips curved into a slight smile.

Once they were outside, Cecilia slowly pulled her hand free. "Alright, are you satisfied now?"

"Satisfied?" Damian gave a mocking laugh, his expression cold. "You were with me for a long time. If you end up with someone inferior to me, where would that leave my reputation?"

Cecilia pressed her lips together and said nothing.

Damian Hawthorne’s status in all of Korsyth was plain for all to see. If you were to name any young masters in Korsyth more outstanding than him, you’d find very few.

"I just don’t want to see you acting like an idiot, constantly looking for a substitute." Damian’s lips held a smile that carried an indecipherable meaning.

The word "substitute" struck Cecilia like a heavy blow to the head.

"Miles Sinclair is dead. Only you would believe something like a resurrection."

Cecilia calmly turned her face away, her lips parting. Her voice was as placid as a still pond. "I’ve checked. He is Miles Sinclair."

"Do you regret it?" Damian shot her a sideways glance. "If you had known Miles Sinclair was still alive, would you never have pursued me?"

Damian’s question was like a small knife, slicing open the final secret between them.

Cecilia stared at him, his brown eyes as captivating as ever.

"There’s no point in talking about this now, Damian. We’re already over."

After she spoke, Cecilia let out a faint sigh.

It seemed the word she said most often to Damian lately was "over."

’But can they really be over?’

Cecilia thought about Miles Sinclair mentioning the abortion.

She and Damian had been intimate, and they’d had a child together. That was an indisputable fact.

"Miles Sinclair was right. You’re the woman who carried my child, after all. I’ve been thinking, and I should take responsibility."

Damian kicked at the ground in frustration, turned his back, and pulled out a cigarette case. He opened it and stuck a cigarette between his lips.

His eyes were naturally narrowed, giving him an intimidating air. "If you’re willing, we can get married."

’Married...’

Cecilia froze.

"Damian Hawthorne, are you crazy?"

"Yeah, I’m fucking crazy." Damian gently blew a smoke ring, his dark eyes sweeping over her face with a look that was half-smile, half-sneer. "Cecilia, want to take a gamble? Marry me and start a new life."

After saying this, Damian seemed a little stiff and abruptly turned his face away.

When Cecilia didn’t respond, Damian walked agitatedly to a nearby trash can and stubbed out his cigarette.

Marriage. That had been Cecilia’s goal for the past few years.

Back then, all she had wanted was to be with Damian, to stay by his side forever and protect him.

Even when she was treated unfairly, she had shamelessly persisted.

Hearing that Damian had strong needs, she had even offered herself to him.

She had thought Damian might be moved enough to be with her.

But she had never imagined that Miles Sinclair would reappear.

"Damian, you’ve had too much to drink." Cecilia could smell the alcohol on him.

Damian didn’t like baijiu; he preferred to mess with those foreign liquors that tasted like Chinese medicine. He could hold his liquor well and rarely got drunk.

At most, he would be like he was today—just slightly tipsy.

But Cecilia still felt that Damian had drunk too much. 𝘧𝘳𝘦ℯ𝓌𝘦𝒷𝘯𝑜𝑣𝘦𝓁.𝒸𝘰𝓂

"That’s a marriage I can’t afford." Cecilia’s eyelashes fluttered as lightly as a butterfly’s wings.

Chloe Sutton once said that Damian was too much of a player, that Cecilia wouldn’t be able to hold him down.

She hadn’t believed it, not until Serena Hughes appeared.

Although she didn’t know what had happened between Serena Hughes and Damian, the way he doted on Serena made her realize something once and for all: Damian knew how to love someone, but that someone wasn’t her.

The funny thing was, just a few months ago Damian had been warning her not to even dream of marriage, and now he was proposing to her.

"Can’t afford it, or don’t want to marry me?" Damian admitted to himself that he’d been holding onto a sliver of hope.

In the past, if he had mentioned marriage, Cecilia would have rushed off to pick a wedding dress without a moment’s hesitation, wishing she could marry him the very next day.

But now, not only did Cecilia hesitate, she decisively refused.

"I can’t afford the wedding you’re offering." It felt like a stone was lodged in Cecilia’s throat, constricting her voice and making it even hoarser.

"If that bastard Miles Sinclair hadn’t shown up, would you have said yes?"

Cecilia didn’t answer.

Damian gave a knowing smile. Looking at her delicate, fine-featured face, he felt a sense of powerlessness for the first time.

Cecilia’s silence said it all.

She loved Miles Sinclair more.

"If you like Miles Sinclair so much, then why did you wear yourself out chasing after me back then?" Damian gripped her chin, forcing out each word through gritted teeth.

Cecilia’s face was like that of an elf from a painting—large eyes, a straight nose, and an air of cool nobility that radiated from within.

Seeing her chin turn red from his grip, Damian’s expression darkened, and he subconsciously loosened his hold.

"I’ll give you two more days to think about it."

Damian lowered his hand. The hand that had gripped Cecilia’s chin now gently caressed it as he sneered, "That Miles Sinclair of yours is even more of a player than I am."