Chapter 532 Love's Deep Ache (1)
Jacob glanced up at the third floor, where the studio lights were still on.
Nicole was inside. Whenever she was upset, she would retreat to her art studio for the entire day, shutting herself away from the world.
Jacob was about to head upstairs when he found himself detained. He had to wait until the evening's festivities concluded and the Windsor family began catching up with Calliope, who had brought a special gift for Nicole but hadn't seen her all evening.
Sarah smiled graciously. "She said she was tired and went upstairs to rest."
Calliope, who had always been fond of Nicole, offered thoughtfully, "I know an excellent physician who specializes in wellness treatments. I should arrange for her to see him."
Sarah's face lit up with interest as she inquired about the details, and Calliope was happy to elaborate.
Meanwhile, Jacob brushed an invisible speck from his trousers and remarked with studied casualness, "I should go check on her."
But before he could rise, Elliot sprang to his feet. "Jacob, let me go instead!"
Jacob remained seated, tilting his head to regard his younger brother—eight years his junior—with those aristocratic, penetrating eyes that seemed to dissect everything they touched. After a long moment, he asked with deceptive mildness, "Have you finished your thesis? I believe you're supposed to start your internship at the company this fall. Are your materials prepared?"
Despite Elliot's impressive six-foot-two frame and athletic build, Jacob's inherent authority as the eldest son was absolute. At his brother's words, Elliot fell silent.
Jacob rose with fluid grace and ascended the stairs, his retreating figure elegant and commanding.
Oliver and his wife exchanged worried glances. They had introduced Jacob to Amelia tonight, but Jacob had shown no interest whatsoever—he hadn't even taken her phone number and had been perfunctory during the farewells.
How troubling indeed.
In the third-floor studio, Nicole was working on an oil painting titled "Roses in the Rain."
She possessed genuine talent, and over the past two years in Vesper City, she had built a respectable career, signing with a prestigious gallery. Her paintings sold for between fifty thousand and two hundred thousand dollars each—a remarkable success by any ordinary standard.
Yet Nicole sat lost in melancholy contemplation.
Jacob didn't need an artist for a wife; he needed someone who could provide superior genetics. She could never bear the Windsor family the exceptional heirs they required, which meant their relationship would forever remain hidden in the shadows.
He had promised never to marry, but how long could a man's promises truly last?
If there was Amelia tonight, there would be countless other women tomorrow—all eager to marry Jacob, all desperate to enter the Windsor family's inner circle. What would become of her if his resolve wavered?
The image of Jacob waltzing with Amelia flooded her mind again—beautiful, public, and utterly legitimate.
In their six years together, she had never dared dance with him in front of others. She had always submitted to his wishes without question, clinging to him like ivy to a wall.
She had no friends, no social circle—her entire existence revolved around waiting for him. Always waiting.
Under the studio lights, she blinked slowly, realizing with stark clarity how barren her life had become.
The studio door opened and closed softly. Jacob approached from behind, his arms encircling her waist as his warm breath caressed the sensitive skin behind her ear—a gesture achingly familiar from their countless intimate moments.
He studied her expression carefully. "Are you angry with me?"
Nicole tried to pull away, but the disparity in their strength made resistance futile. She lowered her gaze and murmured, "You and Amelia make a striking pair. Everyone was watching you dance with such admiration."
"I don't care for her," he replied simply.
In the dim evening light, with desire thick in the air, Jacob tightened his hold on the delicate woman in his arms, his voice gentle and coaxing. "I didn't mention it beforehand because I didn't want to upset you. I won't dance with anyone else again—I promise not to cause you any more distress."
He turned her to face him, but Nicole couldn't bear to meet his eyes. She turned her face away, tears glistening with stubborn pain that she couldn't voice.
How could loving someone so deeply not be agony? They couldn't even acknowledge their relationship publicly.
Because of her learning difficulties—with a ninety percent chance of passing them to the next generation—though he had never said it outright, she understood perfectly well.
The woman in his arms felt impossibly fragile and soft, and Jacob's heart melted.
He lowered his head to capture her lips in a kiss. Initially, Nicole resisted, still nursing her hurt and unwilling to yield, but Jacob's dominance was absolute. When she refused to comply, he captured her hands and pinned them behind her back, forcing her to arch against him in a pose of complete surrender.
Nicole felt mortified by the position and struggled desperately, unwilling to let him touch her, but no matter how she twisted her head, she couldn't escape. His lips and tongue claimed hers relentlessly until she finally released a soft, helpless sigh of surrender. Only then did he pause slightly, his lips still pressed against hers, his voice husky with desire. "Will you still try to run from me?"
Nicole wrapped her arms around him, still harboring a trace of wounded pride.
At that moment, the door burst open.
"Jacob."
Diana's voice rang out clear and bright. She was breathtakingly beautiful—a heart-shaped face, cascading chestnut curls, and a petite figure that made her Oliver's absolute darling.
Dressed in an elaborate Lolita-style outfit, she bounced into the room with characteristic exuberance.
Jacob and Nicole sprang apart instantly, but their flushed faces and Nicole's swollen lips betrayed exactly what had been happening. The charged atmosphere in the studio was unmistakable.
Diana's eyes widened in obvious surprise, but she recovered within seconds. She rushed over to grab Jacob's arm while pulling Nicole close, exclaiming with delight, "They're setting off fireworks in the garden! Elliot sent me to get you both so we can watch together!"
Jacob ground his teeth in frustration. Elliot!
Before he could protest, Diana had already dragged them both onto the terrace. The young girl positioned herself between them as they watched the fireworks bloom across the night sky in brilliant cascades of color.
"Make a wish!" Diana called out excitedly. "Wishes made on fireworks always come true!"
Jacob turned to look at Nicole. The spectacular display painted shifting patterns of light across his aristocratic features, making him devastatingly handsome. The way he looked at Nicole was entirely different from how he regarded Diana or Elliot—it was unmistakably the way a man looked at the woman he desired.
Quietly, he reached for her hand.
Diana leaned against her beloved siblings and whispered her wish: "I want our whole family to stay together forever."
Nicole's eyes grew misty with unshed tears.