My Fiancé's Scandals Never End, So I Married His Uncle Instead-Chapter 154: Wet Clothes

In the long silence, Declan’s indignant, ragged breathing could be heard from the other end of the line.

Silas Norwood’s expression was so calm it was nearly cold. "Aren’t you going to greet me?"

Declan fought to suppress his suffocating frustration. After taking a few deep breaths, he spoke softly, "Uncle."

That one word—"Uncle"—instantly sent the online spectators into a frenzy.

The current boyfriend and the ex are uncle and nephew? This scandalous relationship had countless netizens imagining all sorts of family soap operas. Even the celebrity guests on set stared intently at Silas Norwood, eager to see what would happen next.

Declan’s voice was hoarse and anxious, tinged with the recklessness of someone caught bad-mouthing the very person he was speaking to. "Her phone... why do you have it?"

"Given our relationship, is it not perfectly normal for us to use each other’s phones?"

Declan’s chest tightened. He vaguely recalled that when he and Celia were dating, he’d often forget to charge his phone, letting it die. He would then borrow Celia’s phone to call Silas Norwood and report on his work. Now, the tables had turned.

He had fled abroad to lick his wounds, which hadn’t even begun to scar over, yet a single audio call today had shattered his composure. An indescribable bitterness welled up in Declan’s heart, but he had no right to question anything. His voice was dejected. "So, Uncle, what do you need from me?"

Silas Norwood ignored the gossiping stares around him, his voice indifferent. "Transfer me twelve thousand."

Declan suspected he had misheard. "Are you sure you didn’t leave off four zeros?" he asked, hesitating.

The livestream chat exploded again! ’Leave off four zeros?’ ’That’s 120 million!’ ’This civilian guest’s nephew and love rival casually talks in the hundreds of millions? He’s that rich?’

Even the celebrity guests, who could make tens of millions from a single project, looked shocked. It wasn’t that a hundred million was an unimaginable sum to them, but who in their right mind used that as the default unit for a casual loan?

Before Silas Norwood could speak again, Declan bluntly refused. "Uncle, you know your own net worth perfectly well. I’m the poorest one in the family. It’s not right for you to be asking me for money."

"Just twelve thousand," Silas Norwood said after a pause. "Transfer it to this account."

"And why should I?" Declan heard him clearly this time and laughed in exasperation. "For a measly twelve thousand? Uncle, do you really have to humiliate me like this?"

Silas Norwood’s patience had run out. He stated unhurriedly, "Cece and I registered our marriage a few days ago."

Declan: "..."

"Everyone in the family has sent a small gift of money to congratulate us." Silas Norwood’s voice was dignified and gentle, yet every word was a dagger that stabbed precisely into Declan’s heart. "We’re just waiting on you."

It was as if a hand had suddenly clamped around Declan’s throat. His breathing grew heavy, but he couldn’t force out a single word.

After several seconds of silence, he abruptly hung up.

Silas Norwood looked at the "Call Ended" screen and asked the host, "It seems the challenge was a failure. Is there a penalty?"

"No, not at all!" the host said, laughing to lighten the mood. "It’s just a bit of pre-dinner entertainment, so it doesn’t matter if you fail. Come on, everyone, the chicken soup is ready! Grab a bowl!"

After some chicken soup, Celia Sterling and Silas Norwood headed back as they had arranged.

Director Coleman personally saw them off. "The evening activities are more fun. We’ll have an outdoor barbecue, some interactive games, and we’ve prepared lots of Disney plushies. Miss Sterling, why not stay and enjoy yourself before you leave?"

"No, thank you. My wife and I have other matters to attend to." With an arm around Celia’s waist, Silas Norwood strolled slowly toward the villa, escorted by Director Coleman.

Director Coleman didn’t dare insist. He asked enthusiastically, "May I ask where you and your wife are staying, Chairman Norwood? Shall I come pick you two up tomorrow morning?"

The assistant beside Silas Norwood spoke up. "The boss and his wife are staying at Imperial Harmony Garden. There’s no need for you to pick them up tomorrow, Director Coleman. The boss keeps a flexible schedule, so it’s not certain if he will be attending."

’Imperial Harmony Garden?’

It dawned on Director Coleman. So the tycoon who bought Imperial Harmony Garden was Chairman Norwood.

Extremely tactful, he escorted them only to the entrance of Imperial Harmony Garden before stopping. "I’ll see you and your wife this far, then. I know you’re a busy man, Chairman Norwood. I’ll communicate directly with your assistant about anything further."

Silas Norwood gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment and left with Celia.

Imperial Harmony Garden was vast. Compared to the natural landscape of its outer perimeter, the scenery within was more masterfully crafted, filled with countless rare flowers and exotic plants. The night wind was slightly cool. Silas Norwood pulled Celia closer into his arms, lowered his head, and whispered in her ear:

"My dear wife, what’s more fun? Being with the film crew, or being alone with me?"

"The show is just a novelty. Once that wears off, it’s nothing special." Celia thought for a moment. "The guests all seem like they’re wearing masks. Nothing they do or say feels sincere; it’s all for show. But Best Actress Chambers is very easygoing and approachable, and Music King Scott is alright, too."

"Disguise is inevitable when you’re on camera." Silas Norwood gave a soft chuckle. "And aren’t we hiding things as well, my dear wife?"

"Mm," Celia agreed, then hesitated. "Silas, you must be incredibly bored, accompanying me on set."

"Not at all." Silas Norwood reached out and gently squeezed her cheek. "Anywhere you are is interesting, my dear wife."

「The sky had already darkened.」

They returned to the villa. Since they had only had a little soup earlier, they ate a proper dinner before going upstairs together.

The upstairs had been newly carpeted. In the areas Silas Norwood had specifically mentioned, three layers had been laid down, making it feel like walking on clouds—impossibly soft and comfortable.

Celia kicked off her shoes, flopped onto the bedroom sofa, and said languidly, "You go shower first. I need to rest for a bit. My back is sore from picking mushrooms today."

Silas Norwood’s gaze lingered on her waist for a moment before he turned, picked up his sleepwear, and went into the bathroom.

Celia curled up on the sofa and idly flipped through a book. A few minutes later, amid the soft splashing from the bathroom, Silas Norwood’s cool, clear voice called out, "My dear, come in for a moment."

Celia got up. Her bare feet sank into the soft carpet as she walked to the bathroom and pushed open the door.

The bathroom was larger than the bedroom. Inside a jacuzzi comparable in size to a small swimming pool, Silas Norwood was leaning reservedly against the edge. He was dressed in black pajamas, now completely soaked through. The thin, dark fabric clung tightly to his body, creating a disheveled look that held a hint of shattered abstinence.

Celia’s breathing hitched. "What are you...?"

"My hand suddenly went numb. I lost my grip and got my clothes wet." Silas Norwood lowered his gaze, his voice perfectly proper. "My dear, help me change."

"Just wrap a towel around yourself and change in the bedroom. The door is closed; no one is here." Celia grabbed a dry towel from a nearby rack and walked toward him, her voice tinged with worry. "Why did your hand go numb? Do we need to call a doctor?"

"I might have accidentally touched the sap of a poisonous mushroom this afternoon." Silas Norwood flexed his fingers experimentally. "It should be fine in a little while."

"Alright, let’s give it an hour. If it’s still numb by then, we have to call a doctor."

Celia moved closer, her hands reaching for his soaked pajamas. The soft, silken fabric was nearly transparent now that it was wet, and it hung off his frame in a way that was almost indecent. Her rhinestone-adorned nails moved carefully, starting at his chest, unfastening the hidden buttons one by one. Wisps of his natural, cool scent teased her nose. Beneath the wet cloth, the lines of his muscles were faintly visible. Under her palm, his firm, powerful chest and abdomen rose and fell, radiating a scorching heat.

As if mesmerized, Celia found she couldn’t look away. Her gaze traveled up from his faintly visible abs, past his collarbones, his Adam’s apple, and his jawline, until her eyes finally met Silas Norwood’s pale golden ones.

His gaze was deep, yet seemed devoid of any lust. His exquisitely handsome face was elegant and proper, the very picture of an otherworldly, ascetic man.

And yet, from the neck down, he was a decadent vision of wet, half-undressed disarray.

Celia’s hands gradually stilled.

Silas Norwood lowered his gaze. His voice was crisp and clean. "My dear, why did you stop?"

Celia looked down at his pajamas, which she had peeled back to his waist. Beneath the wet, transparent fabric were the firm lines of his waist and abdomen. Over the past few days, she had become intimately acquainted with their incredible power.

She had also witnessed just how wanton this seemingly ascetic man could be.

"Silas Norwood..." Celia whispered. "You’re doing this on purpose."

"Doing what on purpose?" Silas Norwood asked, feigning ignorance.

Celia rose onto her toes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Her voice was hoarse. "...Seducing me."