Chapter 679 Avery Learns the Truth: He Has a Daughter 3
The hotel parking lot was quiet, the air sharp with the smell of asphalt cooling under the night.
Isadora pulled open the car door, one foot already inside, when a low, familiar voice came from behind her.
"Heading home?"
Her body went rigid.
Avery.
She turned slowly. Under the cold wash of the overhead light, Avery stood three or four paces away. His face was as composed and unreadable as ever, his eyes darker than the night around them, fixed on her like he could strip her bare without a single touch.
The air between them tightened.
After a beat, she managed a thin smile. "I am. Mr. Montague, Do you have something to say to me?"
His expression didn't change, but his gaze burned. "Nothing you want to say to me?"
She stayed silent.
Avery slid a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a sealed pack of cigarettes. He tore off the outer wrap but didn't open the box, holding it loosely in one hand, his eyes never leaving hers. "Like… what you asked me on the phone last time."
It took her a few seconds to remember.
That night, she'd asked him if he still loved her. She'd been reckless, overestimating her own courage. The memory alone made her flush with shame.
Her smile turned brittle. "I've forgotten what I said. And I'd appreciate it if you forgot too, Mr. Montague."
"Is that so?"
Avery's mouth curved into something colder than a smile. He looked like he was about to say more when a bright, girlish voice called from behind them.
"Avery, there you are. I've been looking everywhere for you."
They both turned. Autumn stood a few steps away.
She was young, fresh-faced, the kind of beauty that made Isadora's chest tighten.
She had once told Serafina she'd never felt inferior to anyone — except in front of Avery. Because Avery could have anyone. Young and innocent. Sophisticated and magnetic. Any woman he wanted was within reach. Why would he ever choose her?
Autumn walked up to him, her fingers hooking lightly into the cuff of his sleeve.
Her voice carried a hint of complaint, "My coat's in the car. It's freezing out here."
She wasn't naive. She probably saw more than she let on. But she didn't say a word. The faint redness at the corners of her eyes was the only tell.
Avery looked down at her for a moment, then shrugged off his black coat and draped it over her shoulders.
He pressed the car keys into her hand, his voice low and warm, "Wait for me in the car."
Autumn hesitated, then obeyed.
When she was gone, Avery turned back to Isadora. Nearly half a minute passed before he spoke, "Do you want me to drive you home?"
Isadora folded her arms across her chest.
Her voice was cool, "That won't be necessary, Mr. Montague."
She slid into her car and shut the door.
Only when she was out of his sight did the heat prick at her eyes.
She couldn't understand how Avery could be so cruel — how he could commit himself to Autumn and still say those things to her. How he could be so tender to his girlfriend and then offer to take her home.
What exactly did he think she was?
Avery stood where she'd left him, watching her taillights fade into the dark.
His face was calm, but his fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles ached.
It had taken everything in him not to tell her the truth — that there was a child between them. Maggie. God, how he wanted to see her.
But first, he had to deal with Autumn.
If he wanted Maggie, if he wanted Isadora, there could be no more ties to Autumn.