High School Again: The President's Secret Lady Boss

Seeing Marcellus so flustered is a rare thing, so Harold can't help but be amused.

Having a feeling that this is going to be interesting, he stands up from his seat and follows after him. Currently, they're in the Lexington's main estate. It was his nephew's idea to bring Winter there instead of the Middleton's estate – of course with her brother's consent.

"I think it's going to stress her out even more if she goes back to the place where those 'people' lived," was what Marcellus reasoned.

As a result, August took control of the household in the meantime. With Victor's help, he's sorting everything out back there in preparation for her return. Their family company, on the other hand, has already recognized her as the new CEO after Cyrus and Grace's arrest, though their operations will have to remain on hold so as to give her more time to recuperate.

'Mr. Cyrus and Mrs. Grace Middleton have been imprisoned and are awaiting their trial while Ms.. Bianca has been sent to a mental health facility…' Harold recalled as he continued to trail after Marcellus who seemed to have been thrown off guard as soon as he took a look inside the room where Winter was staying.

'How disastrous. To think that the Middleton family is made up of those kinds of members. I guess my elder brother is not the only one in this world, then-'

His thoughts were cut off the moment he saw what Marcellus was fretting over. Inside the room, he found Winter already up and awake.

But what really took him aback was what his parents were doing to her. It made sense that his nephew reacted the way he did.

Marianne is seated on the side of her bed, braiding her hair, while Francis is at the other side, holding a tray full of sweets. Winter looks unsure of what to do as they fuss over her like a couple of doting guardians.

"Grandma, Grandpa, what do you think you're doing? Can't you see that she's weirded out?" Marcellus began, stealing their attention.

"Oh, grandson! You're back already? That was quick," Marianne chimed, looking somewhat disappointed.

"Get back there and do your work, young man. We've got this handled," Francis told him gruffly while waving his hand dismissively, dumbfounding him even more.

"You've got to give your grandparents a chance, nephew. They couldn't pamper you anymore, so they're like this to your future bride," Harold teased while watching the scene from the side.

Winter blushes at what he just called her, so does Marcellus who is now glaring at him as though he has been exposed. Entertained by the sight of the red-faced lovebirds, Harold went on to point out, "What? It's obvious that you two are endgame. I mean, why would you go through all those lengths, nephew? Isn't it because you think that she's really the one for you?"

"I second that! You used to play around with girls all the time, so I've always had the feeling that whoever could tie you down would be your first and last!" Marianne chirped.

"Yet, it still surprises me that she's as young as eighteen – and very, very pretty, too! Count yourself as lucky, lad! No other girl can possibly put up with a player like you the way she does!" Francis commented.

Winter can't help but blush harder at their compliments. 

They're giving her too much credits even though they've just met today – at least, in this timeline, that is. She has always known that they're kind, but she didn't expect that they'll favor her this much.   

"Dinner…" Marcellus sighed tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Let's all have dinner together later. For now, please, leave us on our own." 

"Oh, right, I see, I see…" Francis chuckled, smirking knowingly.

"Need some 'alone' time, eh~?"

"Of course, they do, darling. He's been waiting for this moment, after all…" Marianne cooed.

"Oh, young love~" 

They're definitely getting the wrong ideas here, but Marcellus just let them be.

With that, they give Winter their parting words and excuse themselves. Harold led them out, sending her a look of understanding before he did – they can introduce themselves to each other later during dinner. For now, he respects Marcellus's wish to talk with her in private. 

As soon as they left, he turned back around and made his way to her bed.    

"Glad to see you're finally awake…" Marcellus started again, and for some reason, Winter found herself blushing once more. 

"You've been asleep for a while. How're you feeling?"

"I'm fine. Better so thanks to Mrs. Marianne and Mr. Francis." 

Her voice came out in a squeak. She cleared her throat before lying down again. As she covered herself with the blankets, she continued, "They said you've been watching over me the whole time." 

"Yeah, I have. Well, your brother and I have. I couldn't leave you by yourself. I only did so when he told me to. He doesn't want me to be alone with you for too long. You already know why."

So, Marcellus had been there to make sure she would be okay. He even let her stay in their place and provided all of her needs. At those thoughts, Winter feels cherished – time and again. 

Knowing that he would do so much for her made her feel a great amount of indescribable happiness. She loves knowing that he cares about her. 

"Thank you for everything, Marcellus"

He was quiet as he stared down at her. Serious. It seemed to her that something was troubling him. She sighed before she reached out to him and took his hand. 

"Really. Thank you so much for doing so many things for me. You even jumped down that night to save me – you and August did. For that, I'm grateful. Very, very grateful. You helped me a lot. I don't know what I'll do to return all those favors."

Winter tried to sit back up again, but Marcellus didn't let her. 

He pushed her back gently and placed her head on the pillow without saying a single word. Try as he might, she can see that he's hiding his agony beneath his calm expression. She stares at him and wonders what's wrong. 

Then, to her surprise, he let his body go loose. He laid down on the bed next to her before wrapping his arms around her. In silence, he buries his face on her chest.

Her eyes widen as she felt his soft hair hit her neck. He's hugging her so tightly that it almost seems like he hasn't seen her in a long time. Not knowing what to say, she just slowly returned the embrace in a protective manner. She then closed her eyes, letting his cool scent fill her nostrils.

Feeling Marcellus so close, Winter could feel her heart pounding loudly. 

She began to intertwine her fingers with the strands of his hair, trying to give him some reassurance and comfort. Something was definitely wrong with him - she could tell by his long dragged out silence. She sighed silently to herself as the strange quietude continued to creep upon her. 

"Marcellus, is something wrong? You can talk to me."

"It's all my fault, Winter." 

He told her that in almost a whisper, holding her tighter. She tried to understand what he was talking about so she kept quiet and allowed him to speak. As she did, she continued to play with his hair. 

"Everything is my fault. You shouldn't have experienced all of that. What you lived through before was more than enough. I couldn't stand the thought of you suffering any longer. If only I predicted what would happen after leaving you alone with her, I wouldn't have let you get near her in the first place…" he said and trailed off, gulping as he paused.

"If it was not for me and my father, your parents would not have taken that psycho in." 

Winter went stiff as she processed his words. Marcellus just dropped a bomb, she knew, but she failed to take it in completely.

"What… do you mean?" she asked, perplexed.

"It was Sir Victor who told me. He had just completed the investigation on your parents' death after the Middleton's arrest, and he learned that it was the mafia that my father led. Without your family knowing it, they ordered ours to kill your parents," he disclosed, causing her heart to stop in shock and disbelief.

He held his breath and started to shudder, then - like he just turned into a frightened child. 

She is at a loss. She does not know what to say.

Her eyes were wide for a long moment, but they eventually narrowed at the realization that soon dawned upon her – it's his father's doing, not his. It made sense that Cyrus and Grace would hire assassins to finish Wesley and Jeanette off, though it was still a shock that it's the Lexington's they had unknowingly approached that time. 

Still, Marcellus was not the one to blame. 

Nor Harold nor Marianne nor Francis. 

Her hands went to his face, slowly lifting it up so that he was looking straight at her. She gave him a smile, trying her best to reassure the person she learned to love the most.

"Marcellus, it's not your fault..." Winter said while Marcellus listened. 

"Were you thinking that I'd leave you because of that? No, I won't. Believe me when I tell you that I'd rather die than do that."