Chapter 529 Diana Windsor's Birth Leaves Oliver Satisfied
Two years later.
At the Windsor estate in Evergreen City, Sarah had given birth to their third child—a daughter named Diana Windsor, the little girl Oliver had longed for. Sarah was now thirty-four.
As spring snow melted and the weather remained crisp, warmth filled every corner of the villa. Four-year-old Elliot was at that mischievous age, having explored every crevice of the marble floors until Oliver declared that even dogs would find him insufferable.
After grumbling about his youngest son, Oliver went to dote on his precious daughter.
That evening, the master bedroom on the second floor was serene. The baby lay contentedly after her feeding, her tiny belly exposed, her cherubic face peaceful and beautiful. Oliver entered with feather-light steps, barely daring to breathe lest he disturb his beloved treasure. His expression was tender with paternal devotion as he gently caressed the little girl's arms and legs, unable to get enough of her.
Nearby, Sarah had just finished nursing. Her nursing gown hung loosely, her raven hair casually pinned up, radiating gentle composure as she reclined on the sofa reading a letter from Calliope. Two years ago, Calliope had flown to Helios Federation to build a life with Pembroke, and together they were raising Elspeth. Their happiness was evident in every line.
Sarah's heart swelled with joy for her friend. Moving to her vanity, she took up pen and paper to reply: [Spring's first light brings winter's last snow, now melted away. Diana Windsor is two months old and absolutely adorable—Oliver and I are overjoyed. Your letter arrived at the perfect moment, warming my heart. Though oceans separate us, your thoughtfully chosen gifts for every holiday and milestone make it feel as if we're still together. I long for your return, yet knowing you've found such complete happiness there makes this small separation bearable. I miss Elspeth dearly and pray for her continued well-being. With love, Sarah.]
After showering his daughter with kisses, Oliver approached his wife from behind, encircling her slender waist. His voice was husky with desire, "Only two months postpartum and your waist is already this trim. The doctor gave us the all-clear today."
Sarah folded the letter into its envelope, feigning indignation. "Is that all you ever think about?"
Oliver's embrace tightened as he chuckled low. With only baby Diana sleeping peacefully nearby, the atmosphere was perfectly intimate. As he held his wife close, admiring how motherhood had enhanced her beauty, he murmured adoringly, "Sarah, you're absolutely stunning."
His dark eyes remained fixed on her, unwilling to look away. What more could a man ask for in a wife?
Sarah had also been longing for intimacy, and just as she was about to surrender to her husband's advances, the bedroom door crept open. Little Elliot tiptoed in and snuck up behind his father, covering his eyes with small hands.
"Daddy, guess who!"
Oliver's jaw clenched as he growled, "Elliot! Do you want more siblings or not?"
The boy's eyes widened before he scampered away at lightning speed.
Oliver rolled aside, pulling Sarah into his arms for a kiss before grumbling, "That little rascal will be the death of me! Where does he get such energy? Jacob and Nicole were never this much trouble—we could have a dozen more like them."
Sarah nestled against his chest, her voice slightly breathless and husky, "You complain, but you adore Elliot just as much as the others."
Oliver smiled tenderly, gazing down at his wife. "Elliot is also a child you carried for nine months and brought into this world for me. How could I not adore him? I love each of our children equally, without favoritism."
Though he spoke these words, Sarah knew Diana was different. Sometimes she would wake in the night to find Oliver standing vigil beside the crib, watching their daughter with an expression that mingled paternal tenderness with unresolved grief from the past.
As the night deepened, Sarah said nothing. She believed that Diana's growth and the passage of time would heal the wounds in their hearts. Besides, she had long since forgiven him.
Sixteen years later.
Calliope returned to the country with Pembroke. Her outstanding work in Helios Federation had earned her the position of Vice President at Windsor Group's headquarters. On Saturday evening, the company would host a welcome banquet where Oliver would personally introduce her to the executive team and vouch for her capabilities.
Oliver took this event very seriously and called his eldest son, Jacob.
At twenty-six, Jacob was a graduate of the world's most prestigious universities. In just two years, he had expanded the Vesper City branch four-fold, becoming a rising star in the business world. Industry insiders said Jacob shared his father's ruthless streak, though his polished exterior and aristocratic bearing concealed his true nature from all but his closest associates.
That morning, Jacob emerged from his private gym, a light sheen of sweat on his skin. At six-foot-one with a lean, muscular build, he made even casual clothes look expensive and refined. Phone in hand, he entered his bedroom where rumpled sheets revealed the outline of a sleeping figure—a woman with a cascade of dark hair spilled across the pillow, an image of innocent sensuality.
Jacob sat on the bed's edge, his long fingers idly playing with silken strands as Oliver's voice crackled through the phone, "Jacob, your childhood friends are already on their second kids, and here you are, buried in work at your age without having had a single serious relationship! Your mother's starting to wonder about your... preferences."
Jacob's low chuckle rumbled as he pulled the girl from beneath the covers, his aristocratic nose brushing against hers as she whimpered softly, "Jacob..."
His blue eyes darkened with desire as he teased his father, "Actually, Mother might be onto something—I've always been interested in my childhood friend."
Oliver exploded, "Jacob! I should have known better than to count on you!"
"Then perhaps you should pressure Elliot instead—he's already eighteen."
Jacob ended the call and reached for the bedside drawer with one arm while cradling the girl with the other.