Vengeance So Sweet

Cynthia's Point of View

After a few minutes, the driver stopped the car in front of the mansion and opened the door for us. I stepped out of the car, with Ethan walking next to me. I stopped in my tracks when I felt a dull ache pulsing in my head. I massaged my temples, hoping to ease the pain, but it persisted, and my vision blurred.

I stumbled back a step, falling, until I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, preventing my fall.

"I told you that you needed to stay at the hospital, but you're too stubborn to listen to anyone," Ethan said, his tone dripping with annoyance.

"I'm fine," I lied through my teeth. My head throbbed, and an overwhelming fatigue washed over me. Without another word, Ethan scooped me up in his arms, causing my brows to furrow.

"Ethan, put me down. I can walk on my own," I complained, a spark of annoyance igniting within me.

"Stop being stubborn and shut up. I'm not enjoying carrying you either, but you're not well, and you leave me with no choice," Ethan replied before carrying me inside the mansion. A sigh escaped my lips; deciding not to argue with him.

"Prepare some food for Cynthia and bring it to my room," Ethan instructed the maid, who nodded and hurried to the kitchen while Ethan carried me upstairs.

As we reached his room, he pushed the door open and walked in with me in his arms. He placed me on the bed and tucked me under the blanket.

"Thank you," I whispered. I didn't know how to express my gratitude; he had done so much for me, and I knew a simple thank you would never be enough.

"Instead of thanking me, you should have stayed at the hospital under observation until you were fine," Ethan said, throwing me a glare. I rolled my eyes, making a face.

"I don't like hospitals. If I had stayed any longer, they could have given me an injection, and I fear them, okay?" I admitted, just the thought of an injection sending a shiver down my spine.

A grin spread across Ethan's face as he chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. I shot him a glare, my brows furrowed. "Ethan, are you making a joke out of me?" I asked.

He shrugged and chuckled even more.

"No, I'm not making fun of you, little one. It's just amusing," Ethan said, a grin widening on his lips. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"I'm not little, Ethan," I retorted, glaring. Yes, I was shorter and thinner, but that didn't mean I was a small girl; I was almost 25 years old, for heaven's sake.

"Only a little girl is afraid of injections, and I think the name suits you well," Ethan said, bursting into laughter. I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, and he laughed harder before rushing to the bathroom.

I hated feeling small. People had bullied me at school for being the shortest girl in class, and now he was rubbing salt into my wounds. Stupid man.

Shaking my head, I found annoyance pulsing through my veins.

Later that day

I woke up to a knock on the door.

I slowly opened my eyes and sat up on the bed, scanning around the room searching for Ethan. My eyes finally stopped on the couch; he was seated on the couch, his head leaning against it, his eyes shut, his laptop opened in front of him. He must have fallen asleep while working.

Gulity ripped my heart; he has done a lot for me, but I was making him sleep on the couch in his own room.

The knock on the door snapped me out of my daze. I rose off the bed and walked over to the couch. I shook Ethan's arms gently, and he immediately opened his eyes.

"Someone is at the door," I told him. He nodded his head as he rose off the couch, rubbing sleep off his eyes. He walked over to the door, and I didn't get to see who was at the door as Ethan talked to the person briefly and shut the door.

"You should get ready; dinner is almost ready. Everyone must be at the table before my grandpa. All your things are in the closet," Ethan said calmly. He made his way into the bathroom, and I made my way to the closet.

I pushed it open, and it was filled with all the branded female clothes, shoes, bags. I decided to pick a simple black dress, matching heels, and earrings.

By the time I finished picking up an outfit to wear, Ethan was already out of the bathroom. As he headed to the closet, I made my way to the bathroom with all my things. I took a quick shower and quickly put on my clothes and applied a bit of makeup to cover my pale complexion. As I stepped out of the bathroom already dressed.

"Are you ready, little one?" Ethan questioned. I shot him a glare.

"You are not planning to call me that for the rest of my days here, are you?" I questioned. Ethan chuckled.

"If you don't want me calling you little one, I can call you Short lady," Ethan said, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. I decided not to argue with him.

"After dinner, I'm going out," I said calmly as I started making my way out of the room with him following behind me.

"That's alright," Ethan said. I breathed a sigh of relief. At least he was not going to act all bossy because he saved my life.

Ethan and I arrived at the dining table; everyone was already seated. Ethan pulled a chair for me, and I sat down.

"Good evening," I said. Grandpa smiled at me, his eyes twinkling with happiness. I averted my gaze uncomfortably.

"How are you doing, my dear?" He asked, his tone dripping with concern. I just don't know how to respond to such affection because my heart was now filled with nothing but darkness.

"Uhmm, I'm fine, thank you," I said quietly.

"Of course, she is absolutely fine. She is going to snatch all our money like a gold digger she is," Granny said. I grimaced, shooting her a glare.

"It seems like I didn't introduce myself properly to everyone, but now I think it's the perfect time I do," I said, my eyes glaring right at her.

"My name is Cynthia Martin, the daughter of Mary Marrison and Mark Martin, I'm sure you've heard of them right? " I said calmly, and everyone's eyes went wide in shock.

Of course, they thought I was another wannabe and that I'm going to get married to Ethan because I wanted money. But no, I didn't grow up in poverty that I would actually get married for money. Had it not been for my revenge plan, I wouldn't have agreed to this fake wedding.

"Thank you for dinner, but I've lost my appetite. I can't sit around uncivilized people, nor will I have dinner with them," I said. I rose off the chair and started making my way to the room.

"Cynthia, my dear, please sit. Don't mind her words at all; she is just a bitter old lady who simply can't say anything nice," Grandpa said, but I didn't stop.

From today onwards, my self-respect was important. If someone happens to hurt it, then I won't tolerate it at all.

As I reached the room, I sat on the couch, my head rested against it, my eyes shut. I just wanted to take a deep breath and calm my racing mind. A lot of things swirled inside, and my whole being was yearning for one thing, to make them all pay. I just wish I had magic to teach myself how to fight and finish them all at once.

I was brought back to reality by the sound of the door opening. I opened my eyes to see Ethan walking in, followed by a maid who pushed the tray of food inside the room. She started dishing up the food while Ethan sat next to me on the couch.

"You didn't have to bring any food in here, Ethan. I'm not hungry," I said, my brows furrowing in displeasure. I had already lost my appetite.

"And you think I will make you sleep on an empty stomach without taking your medicine?" Ethan questioned, his gaze narrowed. I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

"Why do you care if I go to sleep hungry?" I retorted.

"If you were to die, my grandpa will make me marry another girl, which I don't want. I really don't have the strength to deal with a gold digger," Ethan said, his expression darkened, displeasure etched on his face.

"Fair enough," I replied shortly. The maid started dishing food on the plate.

"I've heard that you will teach me how to fight and use a gun, and I will do whatever you want," I said. Ethan's eyebrows shot up, confusion etching on his face.

"Oh, that is a wise decision. So when do you want to start?" He asked.

"Tomorrow if you are not busy, of course," I said.

"Tomorrow is our engagement party, and the day after tomorrow is our wedding day, so next week is the best option," Ethan said calmly, and I just nodded my head. It was a fake wedding after all; it's only fair that it happened so fast.

My mouth watered at the aroma of the delicious food entering my nostrils. I leaned closer, eager to take a bite. As I forked the pan-seared linefish, citrus-herb butter burst on my tongue, Steenberg Sauvignon Blanc's crispness elevating each bite.

I got lost in eating that I forgot about Ethan's existence until he finally cleared his throat. I stopped chewing the food in my mouth and looked at him.

My face flushed with heat, my pulse quickening, embarrassment washing over me. I was too lost eating like a fool, forgetting that he was still in the room, that too looking at me.

A grin spread across his face, amusement etched on his face. "You look so thin to be such a foodie, little one," Ethan said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I averted my gaze away from his, trying to hide my embarrassment. I ignored him and continued eating my food.

Ethan let out an amused chuckle. "Don't mind me, just keep on doing what you love, okay," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I shot him a glare, but I decided to just ignore him and kept on eating.