When Her "Death" Couldn't Break Him (Cecilia and Nathaniel)

Chapter 2073

Minutes later, they emerged, Cecilia and Nathaniel each carrying a child whose face was now hidden behind bright plastic. Their small breaths fogged the inside of the masks, turning them into mysterious little figures.

Elliot's voice seeped through the pig snout, forlorn. "Jon, why do I have to wear a mask too?"

Jonathan adjusted the elastic at the back of his own monkey mask. "Less chatter. With these on, no one will recognize us. You've got a mountain of online fans. Do you want them lining up for autographs right now?" Even the thought made his shoulders tense.

The image apparently delighted Elliot. His lips curved beneath the plastic, dimpling the cheeks no one could see.

"Actually, that sounds awesome," he said, the words accompanied by an audible grin.

Jonathan let silence answer.

The brothers clearly lived on different planets.

"Mask on, questions off," Jonathan ordered, voice muffled but iron-firm.

Elliot released a long, dramatic sigh, then ventured, "Fine, but why do you get the monkey mask while I'm stuck with the pig?"

"Because the monkey is the elder disciple and the pig is the junior," Jonathan explained patiently. "I'm the older brother, and you're the younger. That's simple hierarchy. Got it?"

"Oh." A tiny sound of belated understanding.

Left with no further argument, Elliot slumped in resigned silence.

A few steps behind, Cecilia and Nathaniel exchanged amused glances, the muted bickering of their sons drawing quiet laughter from their throats.

Sure enough, once the masks were on, the crowd's attention drifted elsewhere like dust in a changing breeze.

a stature made for designer suits-still

women.

blissfully unaware of

that and said, "Mommy, I'm tired." His voice, faint

let me carry you," Cecilia answered at once, arms already opening to

fault and never the sort of

"Daddy, could you carry me?" he asked, voice soft yet threaded with

not hesitate. In one fluid motion, he swept Jonathan into his arms, settling the boy

did his brother look ready to drop? Choosing not to voice

onto his

as if

than the

the escalator to

ceiling lights

touched marble,

on the children's racks and in

their naturally straight backs and coltish limbs, Jonathan

Elljotresembled pin size det

runway

draped over them instantly looked

textbook proportions Honestly, these clothes hang better on them than on our catalogue

all, are music few parents

every last piece,

produced his black card and settled the bill without a blink, digits flashing across the screen before disappearing into approved