Chapter 604 Serafina, Come Live with Me in Evergreen City 1
After receiving two units of blood plasma, Serafina had regained some strength but remained weak. The Windsor family, not wanting to overwhelm her, had briefly visited to see Abigail before checking into nearby accommodations, leaving only Jacob behind.
The VIP room was pristine and sterile. Isadora and Jacob regarded each other with mutual disdain—in Isadora's mind, Jacob was nothing but an irresponsible bastard, while Jacob blamed Isadora for not speaking up sooner. Neither could stand the sight of the other.
In the early morning hours, the loudest sound in the room was Abigail's sweet breathing as she lay curled up, tiny fists clenched. Jacob gazed at her with melting tenderness, studying her delicate features—she had his bone structure but Serafina's soft features, creating what he considered absolute perfection.
Just as Jacob was reveling in his paternal bliss, Abigail suddenly began to cry. Her beautiful little face crumpled into wrinkles, tears squeezing from her tightly shut eyes.
Jacob's heart clenched as he scooped her up, cradling her against his chest, but his attempts at soothing only made her wails grow louder, filling the room with piercing cries.
Jacob stood helplessly as Isadora, leaning against the doorframe, observed with cold detachment.
"She's hungry, you idiot," she said flatly.
Without arguing, Jacob turned to Serafina, who was propped against her pillows with outstretched arms, silently requesting her daughter.
Jacob hesitated, concern creasing his brow. "You lost so much blood—are you sure you can nurse her? Maybe we should try formula first?"
Serafina remained silent. In fact, she hadn't spoken to him at all since the birth.
Isadora stretched theatrically and opened the door, stepping into the hallway to give the former couple privacy. She knew they had unfinished business to resolve, though she hadn't anticipated having her own unresolved matters to face.
The moment she closed the door, a familiar male hand grasped her wrist—warm, strong, and achingly recognizable. She spun around to find herself face-to-face with Avery.
What was Avery doing in Crystal City?
Still dressed in formal attire, clearly having come straight from the wedding reception, Avery's penetrating gaze locked onto hers before he dragged her to the end of the corridor.
When he released her wrist, he threw open the floor-to-ceiling window, letting the night air rush in with sudden force.
Crystal City had been touched by rain, leaving the air thick with dampness and the scent of wet earth.
Isadora stepped back, rubbing her aching wrist where his fingers had gripped too tightly. "Are you insane?" she snapped.
Avery continued to glare at her with barely contained fury.
After a long moment, he turned toward the window and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. With practiced movements, he shook one out, placed it between his lips, and lit it with a silver lighter. He drew deeply, his eyes never leaving her face, watching her with the intensity of a predator.
Objectively speaking, both Avery and Jacob were strikingly handsome cousins, but where Jacob possessed refined, aristocratic beauty, Avery radiated raw masculinity—more dangerous, more commanding in his presence.
Isadora stood frozen as the familiar scent of his preferred cigarette brand filled the space between them.
How many nights had she lain in his arms, watching him smoke in post-coital contentment? Now that same scent felt like a knife twisting in her chest.
Finally, Isadora found her voice, though it came out hoarse and broken. "I don't owe you anything, Avery. We ended this long ago."
Avery continued his leisurely appraisal, taking in her tear-streaked makeup and smudged eyeliner that made dark circles around her eyes.
He took another drag, then smiled with cruel amusement. "You said we were over, but did I ever agree to that? After sleeping with me for so long, you think you can just walk away?"
"What else would you expect? Avery, do you honestly think there's any future for us? With my family's circumstances, with how we started—do you think I'd ever trust you enough to let you hurt me again?"
The words tumbled out in a rush, fueled by emotions she usually kept buried, perhaps triggered by his unexpected appearance in Crystal City.
Avery's gaze remained unreadable, dark and fathomless. He had actually been offering her one last chance—if she had shown even a hint of regret, if she had been willing to fall into his arms, he would have swept away every obstacle. He would have married her without hesitation, silencing anyone who dared object. When Avery Windsor chose a wife, he wouldn't tolerate interference from anyone.
A bitter smile played at his lips. She was unwilling. She claimed her family was beneath his, but hadn't Serafina been with Jacob? What made her situation any different? The real reason, he suspected, was that he wasn't Jacob.
Avery crushed his cigarette against the window frame and reached into his jacket, producing a photograph that he handed to Isadora.
His voice turned arctic. "This is the real reason, isn't it, Isadora? You've always been in love with Jacob. When you realized he only had eyes for Serafina, you settled for me as a consolation prize. Unfortunately, I don't bear much resemblance to my cousin. My apologies for the disappointment."
Isadora stared at the photograph—taken years ago at a business function where she'd first met Jacob. Her face in the image showed unmistakable adoration, the look of a woman experiencing her first taste of genuine attraction.
She couldn't deny it. Everyone had their moments of foolish infatuation, didn't they?
Avery was using this against her, and she could have explained—could have told him that her feelings had genuinely shifted to him over time.
But what was the point? Isadora refused to live with such degrading vulnerability.
She kept her head bowed, her voice trembling as she spoke. "You're absolutely right, Avery. From beginning to end, Jacob was the one I wanted. You were nothing more than a substitute. Now that you have your answer, can we finally put this to rest?"
Without another word, Avery turned and walked away.
The air still carried the scent of damp earth as he brushed past her. He would return to his role as CEO of the Montague Group, while she would shoulder the burden of rebuilding the Penrose family legacy. They had never belonged to the same world anyway; separation was inevitable.
Avery paused mid-stride, his voice dropping to a tone that could freeze blood. "As you wish, Isadora."
Isadora blinked slowly, her slender fingers curling into fists. She knew that if she reached out now, if she caught his sleeve, there might still be a chance.
But a woman who begged wasn't the Isadora she chose to be. They passed each other like ships in the night, destined for different shores.
After Avery's departure, the silence felt suffocating. Isadora approached the window and pressed her palm against the glass, imagining she could still feel the warmth from where his hand had rested. Slowly, she pulled the window closed, shutting out the night air that had grown so cold it seemed to pierce her bones.
Back in the hospital room, Jacob maintained his vigil beside Serafina's bed. The trauma from Nicole's complications had left him terrified of losing another woman in childbirth, so he insisted on staying even during Abigail's feeding times.
In the quiet hours before dawn, Serafina cradled their daughter as she nursed contentedly.
Jacob had removed his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, gently stroking Abigail's downy head.
"She seems bright already—definitely has Windsor intelligence, reminds me of Diana," he murmured with paternal tenderness.
Serafina continued to ignore him completely.
Just as Jacob was growing uncomfortable with the silence, his phone buzzed with an incoming call from Chloe.