Chapter 564 Jacob and Serafina's Wedding 1
The three of them stood in silence.
After what felt like an eternity, Nicole was the first to speak. She gazed calmly at Serafina, her voice gentle and soft: "Jacob's had too much to drink. Would you mind looking after him?"
Serafina, naturally kind-hearted and never one to make things difficult for others, understood her place in Jacob's heart all too well. She nodded, watching as Nicole brushed past her.
Serafina had never been in love, but she could imagine just how deeply six years could carve themselves into someone's soul.
The long corridor stretched ahead, ornate chandeliers casting their glow from above.
Nicole's silhouette moved forward steadily. Behind her stood the man she had once loved deeply—the man who said he didn't want to make things difficult for her, who had spoken of Vesper City and their shared memories.
Nicole thought to herself that no matter how soul-deep something might be, it would always have to be buried in one's heart, left to decay there for a lifetime.
When remembered, it would be nothing more than a flash of youthful glory. But people had to move forward.
The corridor seemed endless, as if she were walking through an entire lifetime to reach its end. And there, waiting at the end, stood Theron—her future husband, watching her with such warmth. Understanding. Warmth itself.
Nicole walked slowly toward him. She looked up at him, her eyes still holding traces of moisture she hadn't had time to hide, but she made no attempt to conceal it.
His voice was tender as he asked, "Have you had enough to eat? We can say goodbye to the elders and head home." As he finished speaking, Theron took her hand in his.
She looked down at their intertwined fingers and softly called his name: "Theron."
He gazed down at her intently.
In her eyes, he saw stars and oceans, vast universes, his entire world. Theron's whole world was named Nicole.
Jacob watched quietly as Theron and Nicole disappeared from view. He watched Nicole walk out of his world, knowing that from now on they could only be like siblings—never husband and wife again.
Around him, deathly silence.
In that tomb-like quiet, he heard echoes of that night at the business club—his restlessness, his repeated neglect of her, his triumphant elation after successful negotiations, and the mournful cry of losing her forever.
He loved her.
When they were together, he had never imagined life with another woman. Even during those days when he couldn't offer her marriage, he had always pictured spending his entire life with her.
The crystal chandelier's brilliant light illuminated his chiseled features. He remained dazzling, still radiant, but no one knew that his world had quietly shattered. A small corner of it had become barren and desolate, because no one named Nicole would ever pass through those places again. Never again.
Tears welled in Jacob's eyes.
Beside him, Serafina waited quietly. She realized she was witnessing Jacob at his most vulnerable, seeing how he loved a woman so deeply. She was moved by such unrequited love, though the tragic irony was that Jacob was to be her future husband.
The night fell into silent melancholy.
Serafina looked up at Jacob, studying the profound pain etched across his face. The heart that had once beaten for him gradually grew calm. She thought she could be a good wife to him, a worthy future mistress of the Windsor family.
Christmas Eve.
Jacob, CEO of the Windsor Group, announced his engagement to Serafina, second daughter of the Penrose family.
When the Windsor Group released their engagement photos, they stunned countless onlookers. Amelia was among the first to react—she truly couldn't accept it. Losing to Isadora would have been understandable, but she never imagined Serafina would be the one to claim the prize.
In high society circles, Serafina was utterly ordinary.
That night, Amelia drank herself into a stupor and actually showed up at the Penrose Mansion gates, making a drunken scene.
The Penrose Mansion's vermillion gates swung open. Isadora emerged from within. Where Amelia was charming and vivacious, Isadora's beauty was sharp-edged. She regarded the ranting Amelia with cold indifference: "Have you lost your mind?"
In the depths of winter's night, Amelia was dressed provocatively—short boots beneath a dress that exposed far too much leg. Beautiful, perhaps, but undeniably vulgar.
Amelia pointed accusingly at Isadora, her words slurred: "Why her? Why is Serafina the one marrying Jacob? Isadora, when we were in high school captivating all those elite boys, Serafina was still a child—still in elementary school. What gives her the right to marry Jacob?"
The night wind howled.
Isadora pulled her cashmere shawl tighter, her voice growing even more detached: "Jacob has seen plenty of women like us in the business world. Serafina is different—she has a quality that brings peace. That's why Jacob chose her."
Amelia laughed bitterly. She leaned against her sports car, retrieving a slender cigarette from her designer purse.
After lighting it and taking a drag, she exhaled a smoke ring with practiced seduction: "Stop pretending! Serafina might not know, but I see right through you—you're in love with Jacob. You had your father suggest that arranged meeting to Mr. Windsor, but you never expected Jacob to choose that worthless Serafina over brilliant, capable you. Look at you, Isadora, with your sanctimonious act. Dare you deny you love Jacob? The man you want became your brother-in-law. Your heart must be dying inside."
Isadora's expression remained unchanged. She looked down at Amelia with cold superiority, a thin smile playing at her lips: "Amelia, if you want to have a breakdown, go to the Windsor family. Jacob's the one who won't marry you, not the Penroses!" She instructed the guards to close the gates.
The vermillion doors slowly shut.
Amelia couldn't contain herself any longer, rushing forward to pound on them while cursing, "Isadora, you hypocrite! You don't dare admit you love Jacob, and you don't dare admit you're just another woman he's cast aside!"
The guards looked deeply uncomfortable.
Isadora turned away with disgust, "Absolutely insane!"
She crossed the courtyard to the main house, climbing the stairs to a bedroom on the second floor's west wing—Serafina's room.
Pushing open the door, she found the usual beige décor overwhelmed by festive decorations. The sitting room was filled with jewelry and clothing sent by the Windsor family.
The Windsors had shown tremendous respect for the Penroses.
This marriage, in all honesty, had been handled with complete propriety by the Windsor family. The wedding gifts were substantial, showing full respect for the Penrose family. Isadora believed Serafina would be well-treated in her new home. She had dined twice with Oliver and Sarah, and they had been very kind to Serafina.
Tomorrow, Serafina would be married.
Having checked everything, she now sat at her desk in a moonlight-colored robe, her waist-length hair flowing as she put the finishing touches on a pair of pillowcases. She had learned embroidery as a child.
For this wedding, she had embroidered all the bed linens herself. They were exquisite and luxurious.
Isadora entered the room. She gently traced the embroidery on the silk, genuinely admiring: "This is beautiful work."
Serafina completed her final stitch. She too caressed the finished bedding, speaking to Isadora with a hint of confusion, "Isadora, they say brides should feel excited and happy before their wedding, but I feel like I'm just completing an assignment."
This marriage was fundamentally unequal—the Windsor family had made their choice, and the Penroses were simply offering up the girl they wanted. Love had nothing to do with it, nor did emotion. What awaited Serafina was entirely unknown.
Isadora sat beside her sister.
Only in Serafina's presence did she show her gentle side.
No one knew that Serafina had been the brighter child, but at age ten, Isadora had fallen into water. Five-year-old Serafina had jumped in to save her. Isadora had been fine, but Serafina's resulting fever had caused developmental delays.
To others, Serafina seemed mediocre. But to Isadora, Serafina was an angel sent from heaven—the best comfort and compensation in this suffocating world. She wanted nothing more than for Serafina to live peacefully.
Sometimes love wasn't the most important thing.
Isadora believed Serafina didn't yet understand romantic love—she felt nothing for Jacob.
She thought the Windsor family would be a good home for Serafina.
Isadora gently stroked Serafina's hair, murmuring softly, "Serafina, without love comes fewer troubles. Jacob will be your husband, the Windsor heir, but never your beloved."
That way, when Jacob inevitably strayed, there would be no pain. Women suffered enough in marriage. Isadora couldn't bear for Serafina to suffer. So it was better not to love at all.
In the quiet night, Serafina gazed down at the wedding decorations, lost in thought.
The truth was, she had felt something for Jacob. A fleeting moment of attraction.
December 20th.
Jacob and Serafina were married.
In Evergreen City's most luxurious residential district, one mansion blazed with light—Jacob and Serafina's new home. All the servants and gardeners had been sent by the Windsor family, though Serafina had brought two of her own staff to attend to her personal needs.
Late that night, Jacob lay drunk across the opulent bed. His head tilted back, Adam's apple prominent, his handsome face flushed with intoxication—the color of flesh and desire, devastatingly attractive.
Serafina knelt beside him, gently wiping his face clean.