Chapter 36
Xiomara's voice dropped lower, carrying just the right hint of hesitation. "That old man… they seemed so close. He patted her shoulder, even walked her to the door himself."
Gavin didn't respond, his lips pressed into a sharp line.
"Gavin," Xiomara's voice softened further, as though sympathizing with his pain. "Last time, Mom and I ran into Seraphine. And her mother now—she even said she wanted to give us a very expensive-looking bracelet!"
"I thought it was strange at the time. How could Seraphine's family afford to give away something like that? Turns out…" She trailed off, leaving just enough unsaid to fill in the blanks.
Gavin's expression darkened further.
Xiomara sighed. "But I guess you can't really blame her. Seraphine grew up in the Wipere family. Moving to 'that' kind of household now—the gap must be huge. It's natural she'd want someone to lean on. It's just—"
She paused, lowering her eyes, her voice gentle as though mourning someone's misfortune. "He's awfully old."
That last sentence hit Gavin like a hammer. His face turned ashen, his hands balling into fists, knuckles cracking.
The garage fell silent for a moment. Seraphine had already reached the elevator and was pressing the button.
Gavin stormed toward her.
Xiomara followed two steps behind, her worried expression melting away the moment Gavin's back was turned—replaced by eyes eagerly awaiting the drama.
Seraphine heard the footsteps and turned around.
Seeing Gavin's livid face and Xiomara's feigned concern behind him, her expression didn't so much as flicker.
She simply withdrew her hand from the elevator button, turned fully, and calmly swept her gaze over the two of them.
"Seraphine." Gavin stopped in front of her, his voice low but barely suppressing the fury surging from his chest. "Who was that old man?"
Seraphine didn't even look at him. She didn't answer.
"I asked you who that old man was!" Gavin stepped closer, nearly crowding into her space, his voice hissing through clenched teeth. "Black Rolls-Royce, custom plates, seventy-something years old—patting your shoulder like that, so familiar! Seraphine, tell me the truth. Did you sleep with him?"
Seraphine looked at his face, slightly twisted with anger, and stayed silent for two seconds.
Then she smiled.
A faint curve—just the corners of her mouth lifting, no trace of amusement reaching her eyes.
It was the kind of smile that looked down from above, cold and dismissive of absurdity. "You've got quite the imagination. And a filthy mind. But tell me—what does it have to do with you?"
"What does it have to do with me?" Gavin was nearly driven over the edge by that smile. He grabbed her wrist. "Seraphine, you were the Wipere family's daughter—fake or not, you lived the good life for twenty years. Now that you're not the Wipere family's true heiress and can't hold onto our engagement, you go find some seventy-year-old man? You degrade yourself like this?"
Seraphine glanced down at her wrist in his grip. "Let go."
Gavin didn't let go.
His fingers tightened instead, his eyes rimmed with a thin layer of red—impossible to tell if it was rage or something else. "I know you resent me for breaking off the engagement. You hate that I chose Mara. You feel cheated, abandoned—I get it. But did you really have to stoop this low? Finding some seventy-year-old man, selling yourself for money, for rides in luxury cars, for VIP treatment at private hospitals—Seraphine, do you have any self-respect left?"
Xiomara chimed in at just the right moment, her voice soft and gentle, as though mediating—but every word a blade. "Seraphine, how could you do something like this? If Mom and Dad found out, they'd be so disappointed. Gavin's just worried about you—afraid you'll get hurt. He still cares about you, really."
"Cares about me?" Seraphine repeated the words slowly, her gaze finally shifting from Gavin to land on Xiomara.
The look was faint, so light it seemed devoid of emotion. But for some reason, Xiomara felt a chill run down her spine—like she was being seen through, inside and out.
"Xiomara," Seraphine's voice was calm as a mirror, "are you saying you understand how I feel?"
Xiomara paused, then nodded gently. "Seraphine, I really do. Before I was brought back into the family, life was hard for me too. Who wouldn't want a shoulder to lean on? It's just—"
"So you found Gavin." Seraphine finished the sentence for her, her tone flat as though stating a fact. "You think stealing someone else's fiancé is the best shoulder you could find?"
Xiomara's face froze instantly.
"I—" She opened her mouth, her eyes quickly reddening. "Seraphine, how can you say that? Gavin and I are genuinely—"
"Genuine?" Seraphine tilted her head, the cold curve of her smile deepening. "So all those things you just said—were you sympathizing with me, or were you telling Gavin that I, Seraphine, can't survive without the Wipere family and have to latch onto old men?"
Tears brimmed in Xiomara's eyes. Her lips trembled as though she'd been terribly wronged. "I didn't mean that at all… You're reading too much into it…"
Seeing Xiomara on the verge of tears, Gavin's fury blazed even hotter.
He yanked Seraphine's wrist again, forcing her to look back at him. "Enough! Mara's trying to speak up for you, and you turn around and attack her? Seraphine, when did you become like this? When you were in the Wipere family, you were cold, sure, but at least you had principles. And now? Walking in and out with some seventy-year-old man, riding in his car, staying at his hospital, using his money to buy bracelets for your birth mother—"
"Are you done yet?"
Gavin froze at her question.
Seraphine didn't look at him. Her gaze swept past him and landed briefly on Xiomara, whose eyes were still red.
"You broke off our engagement and expected me to fall apart." She pulled her wrist free from his grip with ease.
Gavin stared at his empty hand in shock. Since when did Seraphine have this much strength?
"You think that because I left the Wipere family, I should be ruined, that I should find some old man just to scrape by. You rushed over here to interrogate me under the pretense of concern, but what you're really thinking is—" She paused, her clear eyes boring straight into his. "—How can Seraphine, without me, Gavin, still be doing just fine?"
Gavin's pupils contracted sharply.
"You don't care who I'm with." Seraphine's voice remained flat, but every word struck precisely where it hurt most. "What bothers you is that I didn't come crawling back to you in tears. What bothers you is that after the engagement ended, I didn't become miserable, didn't become pathetic, didn't turn into the pitiful creature you imagined—someone who can't survive without you. You feel cheated. Why is a woman I discarded still doing better than I expected?"