My Fiancé's Scandals Never End, So I Married His Uncle Instead-Chapter 90: Boyfriend’s Rights

Silas’s gaze was tender and focused, fixed upon her.

She was still wearing the yellow qipao she had tried on last night. Seeing his girlfriend up close was a completely different experience from the distorted view through a camera lens. The cream-yellow qipao, with its retro, subtle pattern, outlined her graceful figure. The knotted buttons ran from the collar all the way down, giving it a conservative look, yet a slit ran up the side, offering a tantalizing glimpse of her leg.

And with her almond eyes, cherry lips, and soft, supple figure...

Silas’s fingers, which had been toying with his thumb ring, noticeably slowed. He subtly shifted back into the shadows, though his tone remained calm:

"The company has been quiet recently, so I came to spend some time with Cece."

Celia let out a soft "Oh," then glanced at Kian Sterling to gauge his reaction.

Kian Sterling’s sharp gaze swept over Silas’s slightly tense body before he quickly looked away. His tone was laced with faint disdain:

"I’ve already cleared out the study. Since you refuse to get another room, you’ll stay there."

His eyes flickered between the two of them. "You can have your fun, but don’t stay up too late."

After saying this, he got up and went to his own bedroom, making it perfectly clear it was a matter of ’out of sight, out of mind’.

As soon as Kian Sterling left, Celia’s expression relaxed. She took Silas’s hand. "Silas, come to my room. I have something amazing to show you."

Silas let her lead him into her bedroom.

Inside the bedroom, Celia first told him about her chance encounter and conversation with the group of masters that day. Then, she took out a manuscript, proudly explaining its value as if presenting a treasure.

Silas didn’t know much about the world of the Perfumery Guild, but he listened attentively. Watching the brilliant light in her eyes, his heart stirred.

"It seems my Cece really does love the resources the Lowell Family provides..."

"I do. Especially the hands-on experience passed down from the dozen or so masters."

Silas handed her a glass of water to soothe her throat. "Would you be willing to take me to see it tomorrow?"

Normally, the organizers of such a high-level conference wouldn’t be happy about adding someone at the last minute. But Kian Sterling’s and Silas Norwood’s statuses were the best kind of access pass anywhere. Celia mulled it over.

"Of course you can come. It’s just that if the Lowell Family asks..."

"Our official announcement is still a week away," Silas said, his gaze lowered, his tone deceptively casual. "It wouldn’t matter if people here in Port Sovereign found out a little early."

Celia leaned closer to him. "Silas, you didn’t come all the way here just to stake your claim, did you?"

Silas didn’t deny it.

Not only did he not deny it, but he pushed his luck. "I’m not just here to stake my claim. I also want to exercise my rights as your boyfriend."

Celia’s cheeks grew warm. "Wh-What rights?"

Silas’s eyes fell upon her, deep and unreadable.

Celia grew uncomfortable under his stare, her tone slightly annoyed. "Well, say it then."

Silas’s large hand, with its jade-like knuckles, brushed gently over the knotted buttons on her qipao. Just as her thoughts were about to stray, he spoke softly:

"Cece, I couldn’t see clearly during our video call last night. And I didn’t get to see enough."

"Wh-What are you talking about?"

Silas said slowly, "I want to watch you change."

On the video call, having Silas pick out her clothes had been Celia’s idea, and she hadn’t felt embarrassed at all. But hearing him suggest the same thing now felt completely different. The tips of Celia’s ears turned red, and she didn’t dare meet his gaze.

"Then... could you pick out what I should wear tomorrow, too?"

His response was a single, incredibly gentle, "Alright."

Celia’s wardrobe was filled with clothes Kian Sterling had prepared for her in advance. The closet covered an entire wall and was packed with high-end luxury brands from Port Sovereign. A single glance revealed hundreds of outfits; it was obvious that when he bought them, he hadn’t considered whether she could possibly wear them all.

Silas was not one to be polite when the situation didn’t call for it.

His eyes scanned the vast rows of clothes, precisely picking out a dozen or so styles. With a light flick of his long fingers, he hooked them off the racks and placed them on Celia’s large bed.

They were all sexy and beautiful designs: low-cut, backless, midriff-baring...

Celia was no stranger to wearing such styles. After a moment’s hesitation, she began trying them on right in front of Silas. A dozen or so outfits wasn’t an overwhelming number, but these were formal gowns and not easy to put on. Several of them couldn’t even accommodate underwear and required adhesive pasties instead.

Silas leaned leisurely against the vanity, watching the girl emerge from the dressing room time and again. For convenience, she was barefoot. Beneath the hem of the vibrant, sexy dress, her fair feet stepped softly onto the plush carpet. Each step felt like it was landing directly on his heart.

Unseen by her, Silas’s Adam’s apple bobbed with restraint.

Celia had no idea that beneath Silas’s prim and composed exterior, a wildfire of desire was already raging.

She emerged from the dressing room again, this time in a crimson, backless, starlit gown. The long skirt trailed on the floor, and her waterfall of hair was spread out, perfectly concealing her sensual, wing-like shoulder blades. A matching crimson ribbon extended from her chest to her neck, but after several tries, she still couldn’t tie it properly.

As she was trying again and again, the sound of soft footsteps approached from behind, followed by the sight of Silas’s large hand gently reaching out.

His jade-like hands still carried a hint of coolness. The pads of his fingers gently hooked the gown’s ribbon, and in a very gentlemanly manner, he deliberately avoided touching her skin. He clumsily tied a less-than-perfect fishtail knot.

"Thank you, Silas."

"You’re welcome." This time, Silas’s voice was a little hoarse.

They were so close.

The alluring scent from her body was like a tightly woven net, and his own body was never good at resisting her advances...

Silas abruptly took two steps back.

Celia turned around. The exquisite curves revealed by the dazzling gown had an even greater impact from the front, now presented to Silas up close. "How about this one?" she asked.

"It’s beautiful, but not practical for attending a lecture." Silas’s mind was a mess, yet he was unwilling to give up this privilege. "Cece, keep changing."

The ribbon was hard to tie, but easy to undo. Celia hummed a soft acknowledgment, unaware that the seemingly prim and proper man’s mind was already in complete chaos. As she walked toward the dressing room, she casually pulled the ribbon loose, holding her palm loosely over her chest. The moment she stepped into the dressing room, she let her hand drop out of habit, revealing a sudden, fleeting glimpse of skin.

Silas felt like he was reaching his limit.

When Celia came out again, an outfit was tossed directly into her arms, accompanied by Silas’s voice, strained with forced composure:

"Just wear this tomorrow."

Celia looked down at the clothes in her arms. Of all the sexy outfits Silas had picked, he hadn’t approved a single one. Instead, he had chosen the most ordinary tracksuit. But if she were to call him conservative, he was the one who had meticulously selected all those not-so-conservative clothes for her to try on.

"Are you sure, Silas?" Celia suggested. "Why don’t you take another look at the one I’m wearing now?"

Silas’s gaze touched her for a second before darting away.

He knew the outfit well—it was a fresh, clean-cut skirt set he had picked out specifically. But her legs were so long that the skirt, meant to be knee-length, ended a good ten centimeters above her knees. He didn’t even have to look down; a mere glimpse from the corner of his eye was enough to dazzle his senses and throw his mind into disarray.

His body was wound as tight as a drum.

His pale gold pupils had darkened to black, swirling with a chaotic undercurrent he couldn’t control.

He no longer even had the presence of mind to answer her question about whether the outfit looked good.

The desire to exercise his ultimate right reached its peak. He masked the frenzied, restless craving surging deep within him with a seemingly placid tone:

"Cece, when we get back to Metropia, let’s get our marriage certificate first."