Chapter 594 She Signed the Divorce Agreement While Pregnant 1
The Windsor Group, CEO's Office.
When Serafina entered, Jacob was deep in conversation with two lawyers. He sat on the leather sofa with an air of refined authority, every inch the corporate elite, while the two senior attorneys spoke with deferential respect.
Anya quietly announced, "Mr. Windsor, Mrs. Windsor is here."
Jacob looked up sharply, his eyes meeting Serafina's. Perhaps because they hadn't seen each other for a month, his gaze lingered, taking in her appearance. She looked thinner, more fragile somehow, with shadows beneath her eyes that spoke of sleepless nights.
His voice softened with concern. "You haven't been sleeping well?"
"I'm managing," Serafina replied quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her eyes drifted to the coffee table before Jacob, where a thick stack of documents lay waiting—their divorce papers, she realized.
Jacob continued to study her face.
After a moment, he signaled Anya to make Serafina a cup of coffee, specifically requesting Blue Mountain coffee. But Serafina immediately declined. "No, thank you."
She couldn't drink coffee now—not with the baby growing inside her.
Jacob misinterpreted her refusal, assuming she was eager to be done with him and leave.
He turned to the lawyer with professional courtesy. "Please read through the divorce settlement with Ms. Penrose. If everything is acceptable, we can proceed with the signing. Any additional terms can be added as amendments."
He had called her Ms. Penrose—using her maiden name.
Anya winced inwardly at the coldness of it. Legally, Serafina and Jacob were still married until the papers were signed, yet he was already distancing himself with such formal address. But Anya was merely a secretary—there was nothing she could do to help Serafina.
Serafina showed no reaction to the slight. "Let's begin," she said to the lawyer.
The settlement terms were generous. Apart from shares in the Windsor Group, Jacob had offered substantial real estate and cash assets. But Serafina requested only a downtown penthouse and fifty million dollars—a fraction of what was offered.
She had always lived simply and had no use for excessive wealth. Even if she wanted to help Isadora with her business, her sister would never accept such money.
Jacob's brow furrowed slightly. He exchanged a meaningful glance with the lawyers, and they, along with Anya, tactfully excused themselves, leaving the former couple alone.
Without an audience, Jacob's demeanor softened considerably. The sharp edge of the CEO dissolved as he personally poured Serafina a glass of water, setting it on the coffee table.
"Is it that time of the month?" he asked naturally, his gaze searching her face.
Serafina avoided his eyes, murmuring a vague affirmation.
Jacob settled across from her, lifting his Blue Mountain coffee for a thoughtful sip before asking, "Why are you taking so little? It's less than a fifth of what I'm offering."
Serafina smiled faintly. "I don't need that much. Besides, I have my work."
Jacob reflected on this. Serafina had always been content with simple pleasures, rarely shopping or indulging in material things. Yet she carried herself with quiet elegance at social functions—not dazzling, perhaps, but always graceful and composed, with a gentle refinement that seemed to emanate from her embroidery work.
His emotions were a tangle of complexity, but he didn't press the matter further.
With terms agreed upon, only the signatures remained.
Following the line of his elegant fingers, she found the signature space where his name already appeared in bold, decisive strokes. Serafina stared at it for a long moment before lifting the pen to sign her own name.
As she finished, her fingers traced over their names—Jacob, Serafina. The last time their names had appeared together was on their marriage certificate. Now, on divorce papers.
After a prolonged silence, Serafina offered a gentle smile. "That's done then. You can mail the final decree when it's ready, or have Anya deliver it."
"Don't you want to see me anymore?" Jacob asked impulsively.
Serafina didn't answer directly—the question seemed pointless now. As she rose to leave, she even thanked her soon-to-be ex-husband for his generosity, ensuring their unborn child would never want for anything.
Jacob's brow creased with confusion. He caught her delicate wrist. "Have dinner with me."
Serafina declined. She gathered her purse, said goodbye, and walked quietly out of his world—just as she had once quietly entered it, sitting across from him in that restaurant all those months ago.
Only now, as they parted, did Jacob realize their marriage hadn't been as terrible as he'd convinced himself. Serafina was flawless in every way—except that he hadn't loved her enough.
The office door closed with a soft click. That gentle sound might well be the final intersection of their fates. Suddenly, Jacob felt suffocated. He stepped back and sank into the leather sofa, staring blankly at the sunset beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He found himself wondering: if he had insisted on the divorce and Serafina had refused, would he have persisted?
Jacob didn't know.
In the settling quiet, his phone buzzed on the desk. Seeing Oliver's name, he answered, only to be assaulted by his father's thunderous roar. "Jacob, you absolute fool! You actually let Serafina sign those papers! Have you lost your mind? When you remarry, do you think you'll find anyone more suitable than her?"
"You used to say Serafina was perfectly obedient," Jacob replied, holding the phone while gazing at the dying light outside.
After a long pause, his voice turned hoarse. "Dad, Serafina and I are beyond repair. If we don't divorce now, we'll only cause more damage later when children are involved. What's the point?"
"Divorce, divorce—that's all you think about!" Oliver snapped coldly. "Why can't you hope for something better?" The line went dead.
Oliver lit a cigarette behind Sarah's back, though he had no desire to smoke it. He simply stared at the glowing tip, lost in thought.
Jacob's failed marriage was his fault. He hadn't given his son a complete childhood, then spent years teaching him to care for his younger siblings. Jacob had become so consumed with business that he'd neglected his emotional life. First Nicole, now Serafina—one by one, they all left him.
How could a father not feel heartbroken?
Meanwhile, Jacob stared at his phone. He called Anya back in, asking absently, "Did you tell my father about Serafina and me signing the papers?"
Anya's discomfort gave him his answer. Understanding it was Oliver's doing, Jacob dismissed her without reproach. As the office returned to its familiar silence, he felt not just his usual solitude, but a deeper loneliness he couldn't explain.
As evening fell, he dismissed his driver and drove aimlessly through the city. When awareness returned, he found himself near Serafina's school.
Autumn sunlight cast warm orange shadows across the street. Serafina stood by the school gates holding a cardboard box, speaking with a tall man. Jacob recognized Floyd immediately. Their interaction seemed intimate—Floyd even touched her hair gently.
Serafina didn't pull away.
Jacob parked and leaned back in his leather seat, watching with an unreadable expression that betrayed nothing of his inner turmoil.
Serafina's encounter with Floyd was purely coincidental. She had come to resign from her teaching position.
Carrying Jacob's child, she knew he wouldn't let the matter rest easily—he might even fight for custody. She planned to leave for another city until Jacob remarried and had other children, then return.
Floyd told her he was back in Evergreen City handling business matters, and had only learned of her family troubles after his return. The Ryan family's social standing meant they'd heard about her impending divorce.
Floyd's touch was gentle with sympathy. Serafina hesitated but didn't pull away, unaware that Jacob was watching. She looked up at Floyd with apologetic eyes, knowing she couldn't offer him what he deserved right now.
Autumn leaves scattered across the pavement as the last rays of sunset faded. After saying goodbye to Floyd, Serafina was about to call a taxi when her phone rang.
The distinctive ringtone—the wedding march she'd specially set for Jacob—made her pause.
She answered quietly, "Is something wrong?"
Jacob's car sat across the street. Through the half-lowered window of the black Rolls-Royce Phantom, he watched her with aristocratic composure. "You left something at the house. When can you pick it up?"
Serafina was puzzled. "I took everything."
In the gathering darkness, Jacob's voice was ice-cold. "The necklace I gave you—it's on your pillow. You should come get it. Didn't you used to love wearing it?"
The gold chain?
Serafina's mind drifted to that day, to their happiest moments, when she'd believed he truly cared for her. She looked up and spotted his car across the street, saw him sitting there with eyes so dark they seemed impenetrable.
They stared at each other across the distance. He didn't mention the necklace again, instead asking softly, "Serafina, did you agree to the divorce because of Floyd?"