Cecilia was fuming, flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment. It wasn''t typical for a mother to


    interrupt her son''s feast. But worry had driven her to it, fearing that the person with him was none other


    than that little vixen. And to her dismay, her suspicions were confirmed.


    She shot Quintessa a re, "You''re making things up. You just got here; it couldn''t have finished so


    fast."


    Quintessa casually draped an arm over Tyrone''s shoulder, "Oh, but why not? Your son''s always been


    quick."


    Tyrone, already short on patience, darkened at her words. Quick? He hadn''t even gotten to the good


    part yet. How could she say he was quick?


    Tyrone turned around and his face immediately darkened.


    Quintessa was wearing one of his oversized T-shirts, no one knows how she found it so quickly.


    The men''s clothes hung on her like a dress, making her look even more fragile and petite. She leaned


    forward, allowing him to look down the cor from his angle, seeing everything at a nce. Her slender


    and straight legs, as tender as newly sprouted willow branches in early spring.


    This version of Quintessa reignited the me Tyrone''s mom had momentarily doused.


    Grinding his teeth, he said, "Who are you calling quick?"


    Quintessa flicked her hair, teasing, "You, obviously. Did I say something wrong?"


    Cecilia, taken aback, began to wonder.


    Circling back to Cecilia, Quintessa chimed, "Auntie, didn''t you say you made something delicious?


    Let''s go eat."


    Snapping back to reality, Cecilia asserted, "I made it for my son, not for you."


    Quintessa was undeterred and pulled Cecilia towards the kitchen, "Oh,e on, it''s all the same."


    Cecilia tried to free herself from her arms, "Stop pulling me. The sight of you vexes me."


    Quintessaughed it off, "That''s


    unfortunate because you''re going to be seeing a lot more of me.


    Têxt ? N?velDrama.Org.


    son


    is quite smitten, after all,ght


    want to stock up on some aspirin."


    Cecilia was so furious that she couldn''t utter a single word.


    Every encounter with Quintessa left her at a loss for words. Her son was right; she couldn''t outy this


    sly vixen, especially when her son didn''t take her side.


    Watching the two women bicker their way downstairs, Tyrone''s face was a stormy ck.


    He angrily kicked the door, "What was I thinking? A hotel would have been better than home."


    The headache he felt was a pulsing reminder of his frustration.


    Looking down, he muttered, "We''ll make it, eventually."


    With gritted teeth, Tyrone went to the bathroom for a moment of respite.


    Downstairs, Quintessa was yfully arguing with Cecilia while enjoying the barbecue ribs she had


    prepared Despite their bickering, Quintessa found Cecilia''spany somewhat refreshing. It was


    unusual to describe a woman in her des as "simple" and "kind," but Cecilia was just that.


    V


    Cecilia''s dislike for Quintessa was genuine, a natural reaction for any mother wary of a "femme fatale"


    ensnaring her son. Yet, her kindness was unmistakable. Shecked the aloofness and entitlement


    often found in the affluent; she had treated Quintessa without disdain despite her disapproval. This set


    her apart from Fiona and Lilian.


    For families of wealth like the Yorks, having someone like Cecilia is indeed rare.


    This elderlydy is truly endearing.


    Quintessa found herself envious of Tyrone for having such a good mother.