Chapter 507 Azalea Heartbroken
The private room fell silent.
Nicholas turned to look in her direction as well. Their eyes met, and tears glistened in the woman's eyes. She couldn't believe her lover would betray her, orchestrating this scene just to humiliate her in front of everyone.
Azalea's lips trembled uncontrollably. The question "why" never left her lips—asking would only invite further humiliation. She stepped back and said quietly, "I'm sorry, I entered the wrong room."
The Sharp family members exchanged uncertain glances. Hestia couldn't sit still any longer. Just two days ago, she had warned Azalea to stay away, yet here she was again, seducing her husband and flaunting it in front of the legitimate wife—and with her parents present, no less. Was Azalea declaring war on her?
"Azalea." Hestia called out, rising and walking over to her. Her expression was that of a woman whose lover had been stolen—vicious and unforgiving. She raised her hand and delivered two sharp slaps across Azalea's face, cursing, "You slut, always throwing yourself at any man who'll have you!"
Clearly, she had been poisoning the children's minds for some time. Verity and Isaac crowded around, chanting repeatedly, "Bad woman! Bad woman! The bad woman who's stealing Daddy!"
Azalea's delicate face was struck to one side. Her carefully arranged hair came undone from the blows, leaving her utterly disheveled. The child whose life had been saved by Elspeth's cord blood was now hitting her with objects, calling her a bad woman over and over.
Yes, she was a bad woman. If she weren't, how could she have gotten involved with Nicholas?
She looked toward her former lover. His face showed nothing but cold indifference, as if the slaps she'd received and the humiliation were all part of his calculated plan.
Of course—it was all his design! Even her housekeeper understood this basic truth: a man who truly loved you would never let you suffer such indignity. From beginning to end, this had all been his revenge. Tonight was an elaborate trap, carefully set to shame and humiliate her.
In that instant, Azalea's heart turned to ash. She took one last look at her former lover, then slowly opened the door to the private room. A draft swept through, bone-chillingly cold. Though she was dressed warmly tonight, why did every part of her body feel frozen?
At the end of the corridor, a window had been left slightly ajar—that was where the wind was coming from.
Azalea slowly removed her Christmas outfit, letting it fall onto the dark carpet. She remembered that year when he had whispered in her ear: "You look beautiful in red, like a doe caught in the morning light."
Tonight, she had worn this outfit to please him! There was no point anymore!
Nicholas had nailed her to the pillar of shame forever. With a mother like her, Elspeth would never be able to hold her head high either. Perhaps it would be better—cleaner—if she were dead. She thought Hestia would take care of Elspeth, give her a bright future.
The piercing wind howled past. In the wind, she seemed to hear the thundering of a thousand horses, their neighing calling her to a distant place—a beautiful place without shame, where mountains were green and waters clear, where blue skies met white clouds. A place where her lover didn't exist!
A figure in pure white leaped from the window without a moment's hesitation. As she soared through the wind, she thought: finally, I am free.
The pure white hit the ground and became a splash of crimson red.
She remembered when she was in the bloom of her youth, telling Nicholas: "Mr. Moore, I love you. I want to spend my whole life with you."
She had erred many times in this lifetime. Yet loving someone? That was never a mistake.
In her final seconds, she was still thinking that Elspeth had never met her father.
From far away came the voice of the nanny, Zyra Vexis, "Ms. Gray."
'Is Elspeth hungry? Elspeth, Mommy is here.'
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