Chapter 15
Haven's voice came from behind, tinged with irritation.
"Seraphine, what kind of attitude is that? Mara was trying to be nice to you, and you laugh at her?"
Seraphine stopped and glanced back at her.
Haven felt a shiver under that look but pressed on stubbornly. "Let me tell you—you're not part of the Wipere family anymore. Don't try to latch onto us. You live your life, we'll live ours. Stop trying to track us down!"
Seraphine turned around to face her.
"I didn't come to the hospital looking for anyone. But you did," Seraphine said flatly. "You came looking for Mr. Orion FitzRoy."
Haven's pupils contracted slightly.
"But," Seraphine's lips curved into a cold smile, "the VIP area requires keycard access. You can't get in."
Haven's face flushed red instantly.
How did Seraphine know?
Seraphine looked at her reddening face, said nothing more, and turned to leave.
Just as Seraphine reached the elevator, her phone rang.
It was Valencia.
"Sera, are you at the hospital?" Valencia's voice carried urgency. "I'm here. Where are you?"
Seraphine paused slightly. "Mom, you came to the hospital?"
"Didn't you say yesterday you were picking up a report today? I thought you might need company, so I came. I didn't realize you'd already gone. Which floor are you on?"
Before Seraphine could answer, the elevator doors opened.
Valencia stepped out, wearing an expertly tailored misty blue suit, her hair elegantly pinned back, small pearl earrings at her lobes, and a understated yet clearly expensive watch on her wrist.
Behind her followed a driver in a black suit, carrying several elegantly wrapped gift boxes.
Mother and daughter met at the elevator.
Valencia's face lit up when she saw her daughter. "I was just looking for you."
She turned to instruct the driver. "Take the gifts to Mr. Orion FitzRoy first."
She looked Seraphine up and down, taking in the white blouse and dark trousers, and frowned slightly. "Sera, why did you come to the hospital dressed like this? What about those outfits I bought you last time?"
"I needed something easy to move in for picking up reports," Seraphine said.
"Even so, it's too plain." Valencia reached out to straighten her daughter's collar, her tone tinged with concern.
Seraphine didn't respond, but her lips curved slightly.
Valencia was about to pull her daughter forward when she caught sight of two people standing down the corridor, looking their way.
Haven and Xiomara.
Haven stood frozen, watching Valencia emerge from the elevator. Her eyes locked onto the woman like nails.
The misty blue suit—the tailoring was decent, Haven supposed, but the color was too dull. No eye-catching embellishments whatsoever.
Pearl earrings? So small you could barely see them.
That watch on her wrist didn't even have a visible logo. Who knew what no-name brand it was?
As for the driver following behind—Haven sneered inwardly.
Anyone could hire a driver. What kind of wealthy madam act was this?
She lowered her voice, leaning toward Xiomara's ear, speaking just loud enough for the two of them to hear. "Mara, is that Seraphine's real mother?"
Xiomara tilted her head slightly, her gaze sweeping over Valencia before her lips curved. "Mom, what is she wearing? A misty blue suit? Who wears such dowdy colors these days?" Xiomara's voice was very low, carrying a hint of disdain. "And look at her shoes. Not even a major brand."
Haven nodded, a flash of contempt in her eyes. "I thought she might be someone important at first—even brought a driver—but this is it? Look at that outfit from head to toe. Not a single piece worth mentioning. Pearl earrings? Those pearls are so tiny they look like grains of rice. How much could they possibly be worth?"
"And that watch," Xiomara's gaze landed on Valencia's wrist as she whispered, "doesn't even have a brand mark. Probably from a street market."
Mother and daughter exchanged a glance, both seeing the same emotion in each other's eyes—contempt.
Haven's earlier nervousness and unease evaporated completely.
When she'd first seen Valencia's overall bearing—elegant, refined, with exceptional looks—she'd briefly worried this might be some wealthy madam from an elite family. Her heart had skipped.
But looking more carefully—this was it?
No designer bag. No diamond necklace. No clothes with big logos. Not even decent jewelry.
What kind of rich person was this?
Haven thought of the diamond necklace around her own neck, the bracelet on her wrist. A wave of superiority washed over her.
She was the real lady of wealth.
Seraphine's biological mother was just a pretentious fraud living beyond her means.
"Mom, look what she's doing," Xiomara whispered.
Haven looked over. Valencia was reaching out to straighten Seraphine's collar, her movements gentle, saying something.
Haven's lips curled dismissively. "Look at her. Adjusting her daughter's collar? The girl's not a child anymore. Someone who's never seen the world, clearly."
"Mom," Xiomara covered her mouth, laughing quietly, "what do you think Seraphine's real mother does? Could she be a receptionist at some company?"
"Who knows," Haven snorted. "Clearly not from any respectable family. Look at what Seraphine's wearing—white blouse, black pants, not a brand name in sight. Mother and daughter are cut from the same shabby cloth."
Xiomara's gaze circled Valencia once more before she nodded. "And look—this is the VIP area. Wealthy people come and go freely. But she has to take the elevator up to find someone. If she were really rich and powerful, wouldn't she have made a phone call and sorted everything out already?"
Haven agreed wholeheartedly, the contempt on her face deepening.
The mother-daughter pair whispered amongst themselves, convinced they'd seen through the charade. The more they analyzed, the more certain they became—Seraphine's biological mother was just an ordinary person with no real background. Certainly worse off than the Wipere family.
Meanwhile, Valencia was completely unaware of the gossip behind her.
She linked arms with Seraphine, her tone gentle. "Sera, did you get the report? Should we go see Mr. Orion FitzRoy?"
"I got it. I won't go in today. Maybe another time," Seraphine said.
"Alright then," Valencia nodded. "Let's go home. Your father made a point of leaving work early today. He wants the family to have dinner together."
She instructed the driver to head back first, then linked arms with her daughter and headed toward the elevator.
As mother and daughter passed Haven and Xiomara, Valencia's gaze swept over them politely, nodding slightly in acknowledgment.
These two had been staring at them the whole time. Out of courtesy, Valencia returned the gesture—a simple greeting—then withdrew her gaze and walked into the elevator with Seraphine.
"Wait!"
A voice suddenly called out from behind.
"You're Seraphine's biological mother, aren't you?"