Chapter 565 Jacob and Serafina's Wedding 2
Suddenly, Jacob's hand caught Serafina's wrist.
He wasn't fully conscious, but he could still recognize the woman before him—his new bride, Serafina.
She looked beautiful today, with her graceful eyebrows and delicate nose. Her features were the kind that grew more appealing the longer you looked at them, her figure perfectly proportioned in all the right places. This was the woman he would spend his life with.
Jacob gripped her wrist and slowly pulled her toward him until she was pressed against his burning body. The closeness was overwhelming, the heat almost unbearable. Serafina could feel his heart pounding against her soft palm, each beat so intense it made her want to flee. She had never had a boyfriend—the most intimate moment she'd ever experienced was kissing Jacob.
"Jacob," she whispered, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Jacob wrapped his arms around her slender waist, gradually tightening his hold as he kissed her slowly. She had already removed her wedding dress and wore only a white slip, her dark hair cascading to her waist in an image of pure innocence.
Late into the night, after their lovemaking, Jacob held Serafina briefly before falling into a deep sleep. She rested against his shoulder, but there was no tenderness, no post-intimacy comfort. In Jacob's dreams, only memories of Nicole remained.
She must have felt hurt, but she didn't cry or make a scene.
This marriage had never been equal from the start—she couldn't expect him to treat her with the same tenderness he would show a true love, to put her first in everything. Mutual respect would be the best outcome she could hope for.
Serafina carefully rose from the bed. When she stood, her legs trembled violently, evidence of Jacob's roughness—especially considering this had been her first time.
She made her way to the bathroom and removed her white slip. As she pulled it off, she noticed a distinct red stain—a symbol of purity that clearly no one cared about.
Serafina undressed completely and stepped into the shower, washing away Jacob's lingering scent from her skin.
As the warm water flowed over her lower abdomen, she gently touched that area, thinking that since he hadn't used protection tonight, she might conceive soon.
The Penrose family would welcome such news—it would secure her position, especially if she bore a son. But for Serafina, everything felt too fast, too foreign.
After her shower, she returned to the bedroom. Rather than sleeping in Jacob's arms, she kept a person's width of distance between them, lying on her own pillow and tossing restlessly while he slept soundly beside her.
The night stretched on in silence. Serafina didn't fall asleep until dawn broke across the horizon.
When she woke, it was already nine in the morning. She reached out to find the space beside her empty—Jacob was already gone.
Serafina wasn't surprised.
Two days before the wedding, Jacob had told her he might not be able to take a honeymoon due to pressing business matters, promising to make it up to her after the New Year. Whether he would or not didn't particularly matter to her.
She had taken a month of marriage leave and could rest properly. After a simple wash, she changed into casual clothes and went downstairs.
The villa's staff was cleaning, and when they saw her, they greeted her with warm smiles. "Mrs. Windsor, you're up! Mrs. Windsor, what would you like for breakfast? I'll have the kitchen prepare it."
Serafina smiled gently. "Anything is fine."
The servant immediately went to arrange it. They treated Serafina with great respect, likely following Sarah's instructions. Having a kind mother-in-law would certainly make married life easier, even without a loving husband.
Serafina had a gentle nature and modest material needs—three meals a day were enough for her.
After breakfast, she took a walk through the villa's gardens. The house was roughly twenty thousand square feet across two floors, with extensive front and back gardens—perfect for raising children in the future.
After her walk, she went upstairs to read.
At the Windsor Group, Anya was surprised to see Jacob come to work.
She blurted out, "Mr. Windsor, aren't you newlywed?"
In the thousand-square-foot executive office, winter sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting dappled golden light. Jacob sat behind his desk, the light making him appear almost godlike.
Hearing Anya's question, he looked up with a detached expression. "I still want to personally oversee the Miravania project. Prepare for a business lunch later."
Anya nodded but sighed inwardly.
Jacob hadn't expected to encounter Serafina's older sister at the business club—Isadora.
Isadora was a powerhouse in the business world, dressed sharply and carrying a briefcase.
She studied her new brother-in-law for a long moment before speaking with a hint of sarcasm, "Am I seeing things correctly? Mr. Windsor, aren't you newlywed to my sister? What brings you here? Looking for young girls? Though I doubt you'll find any in broad daylight!"
Jacob couldn't miss the implication. He had finished his business meeting and signaled for Anya to leave with the driver while he tossed his cigarettes and lighter into the car.
Facing Isadora with his professional demeanor intact, he replied, "Just business. Has Serafina been complaining to you?"
Isadora let out a cold laugh. "If my sister were the type to complain, do you think she would have married you in the first place? Don't play innocent after taking advantage of the situation, Jacob. Yes, in everyone else's eyes, the Windsor family's wealth and status make it seem like my sister married up.
"But ask yourself honestly—did she really marry above her station? She's pure and kind, elegant in temperament. She could serve as the lady of any wealthy family. But what about you, Jacob? You have never let go of someone in your heart!"
Jacob's face went ashen. Having his thoughts exposed was something no man could ignore, so his words turned harsh, "This was a business arrangement from the start, wasn't it? I'm sure she understands that."
If Isadora hadn't brought it up, he wouldn't have spoken about his wife so coldly. Jacob didn't want to continue the conversation and turned to open his car door.
Isadora approached him.
Jacob hesitated, then rolled down the window.
Through the glass barrier, Isadora's expression seemed to soften slightly as she spoke in a more measured tone, "Serafina will be a very good wife."
"I know," Jacob replied flatly, then raised the window and pressed the accelerator.
As the car started, he realized that, compared to Isadora's striking beauty and forceful personality, he was more drawn to Serafina's quiet presence. She was so peaceful that simply being near her brought him a rare sense of harmony—just as it had the previous night, when she slept in his bed and, for once, he neither suffered from insomnia nor felt any discomfort.
Jacob left the office at six. Serafina was at home. She was, in every sense, a good wife; even the coldness of their wedding night hadn't kept her from fulfilling her duties. That afternoon, she had called Anya to ask about his schedule. When his car arrived at the villa, the kitchen was already filled with the aroma of cooking.
The evening sky was bathed in the warm hues of sunset. Jacob felt remarkably good as he stepped out of the car. He walked into the foyer, shrugged off his coat, and handed it to the waiting servant. "Where's Serafina?" he asked casually.
The servant clearly adored Serafina. Who wouldn't love such a gentle mistress?
The servant answered with a smile, "Mrs. Serafina Windsor asked us to find some vases. She's in the back garden greenhouse trimming flowers. Mrs. Serafina Windsor has such skillful hands, and she's so pleasant and doesn't like going out much. No wonder Mrs. Sarah Windsor says Mr. Windsor is truly blessed."
Jacob simply smiled. Instead of going to the back garden, he sat on the sofa browsing the newspaper and said casually, "It's cold—tell Serafina to come inside."
The servant beamed. "Mr. Windsor and Mrs. Windsor are so loving."
Jacob didn't argue; he merely smiled faintly.
After the servant left, he looked around the vast villa, feeling a fleeting sense of bewilderment.
His career was at its peak, his wife was gentle and quiet, and—barring any surprises—they would probably have two lovely children within four years. Life seemed perfect, yet his heart felt hollow and unreal.
He was giving to a stranger everything he'd never been able to give Nicole.
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