Chapter 509 Serafina, Are You Pregnant? 3
Serafina had no intention of reconciling with Jacob. In fact, he hadn't given her the chance—not only had he spoken with cutting sarcasm, but he also had a new girlfriend.
His new girlfriend was perfectly suited to him, and Serafina couldn't help but remember last year's Windsor Group annual gala when he'd refused to bring her as his date. She supposed he'd always been drawn to this type of sharp, capable woman.
Serafina maintained her composure. She and Jacob were divorced now; their chapter was closed. After delivering her words, she nodded politely to Chloe and turned to leave, but in the next instant, Jacob seized her wrist.
His grip was merciless. Pain shot through Serafina's wrist, and she could see faint bruises already forming beneath his fingers. A soft cry escaped her lips as she looked up at him, her eyes flashing with warning.
'Jacob, we're divorced!' She wanted to say. 'Jacob, your new girlfriend is standing right here—do you think it's appropriate to be gripping my wrist like this?'
But she said none of it aloud. Otherwise, she would be the only one left humiliated.
Jacob knew it was inappropriate, yet he continued to hold Serafina's delicate wrist captive, his words piercing her heart like needles, "Ms. Penrose, rest assured—when I do get married, you'll be the first to receive an invitation!"
Serafina met his gaze, seeing nothing but cold indifference in his dark eyes.
Serafina didn't cry—what was there to feel wronged about after a divorce? Her lips even curved into a slight smile. "I'll be waiting, then. Mr. Windsor, may I go now?"
"Of course."
Jacob released her and stepped back, his eyes lingering one last time on her rounded belly.
A thousand words turned to ash in that moment—there was nothing left to say. They were truly finished now, completely severed. She carried another man's child; he had found a suitable match.
In the depths of winter, remnants of snow lay scattered like a white shroud. Jacob watched her retreating figure—the pregnant silhouette, the fuller waist, the slightly drooping shoulders that marked her transformation into motherhood.
From now on, Serafina would be Floyd's wife, sharing not even the slightest connection with Jacob Windsor.
Jacob's eyes were fathomless pools of darkness.
Chloe had witnessed everything from beginning to end. Only when Serafina's figure disappeared completely did she softly ask Jacob beside her, "You love her, don't you?"
Jacob's body trembled.
Did he love Serafina?
Late that night, Jacob was drunk. Avery had driven him back to the villa, and with his characteristically foul temper, Avery unceremoniously dumped Jacob onto the living room sofa. The gesture was so rough that the household staff winced in sympathy—when had Jacob ever endured such treatment?
Standing beneath the crystal chandelier, Avery's face was carved with knife-sharp beauty.
He watched the intoxicated Jacob, his long, elegant fingers working to loosen Jacob's tie knot with practiced ease, then addressed the servants, "Just give him some hangover pills and he'll be fine."
Avery's cold laugh followed. "He only tells the truth when he's had too much to drink."
Earlier at the gathering, Jacob—usually the epitome of self-control—had been uncharacteristically reckless, drinking himself into oblivion. Once drunk, he'd kept calling out Serafina's name.
"I thought you didn't love her anymore. Weren't you the one who wanted the divorce? Now you regret it, huh?" he murmured.
Avery left his parting words and departed first. As he opened the door of his black Range Rover, he paused briefly, remembering that Serafina was Isadora's sister. He recalled Serafina's gentle temperament, but Isadora was as stubborn as a bone too tough for even dogs to gnaw—let alone him.
Avery ducked into his car, slammed the door with force, and drove away from Jacob's villa.
After Avery's departure, the household staff sprang into action—administering hangover medicine, wiping Jacob's face, and carefully removing his wool overcoat to make him more comfortable.
Yasmin gently wiped Jacob's neck and spoke softly, "Sir, you do seem a bit lost without a wife. Serafina was truly wonderful—always so caring and thoughtful towards you."
Jacob lay sprawled on the sofa, everything around him spinning, especially the crystal chandelier overhead that seemed to sway violently. His head pounded mercilessly.
Yasmin continued her endless chatter. Jacob found it irritating; all he wanted was to go upstairs and lie on the bed he'd once shared with Serafina. Though her scent had long faded, the memories of her remained.
Jacob swayed to his feet and gripped the banister as he climbed the stairs.
From below, Yasmin called out, "The hangover medicine is ready! At least drink it before you sleep."
But Jacob waved dismissively, signaling he didn't need their help, mumbling incoherently, "Serafina will take care of me! You all go to sleep."
The servants exchanged bewildered glances. 'Where was this Serafina? She'd divorced Jacob long ago!' they thought.
But they quickly understood—Jacob was lost in memories of her.
Jacob reached the second floor and collapsed onto the master bedroom bed. His body fell heavily onto the mattress. He didn't turn on the lights, leaving everything in darkness, yet he still felt blinded, his eyes aching.
He covered his face with his hands, but couldn't block out the fragments of light that seemed to pierce through. His mind was consumed entirely with thoughts of Serafina, with memories of when she was still there.
In his half-dreaming, half-waking state, he imagined she hadn't left at all. In his most vulnerable moments, Jacob felt Serafina leaning over his pillow, gently calling his name, telling him to unbutton his shirt so he'd be more comfortable.
"Serafina." He called her name and jolted awake from his dream.
Jacob was drenched in sweat, his clothes soaked through, making him unbearably uncomfortable—but the pain in his heart was far worse. Upon waking, everything dissolved like a mirage.
Serafina was no longer Mrs. Windsor. She was pregnant—carrying Floyd's child!
Jacob sat on the edge of the bed and quietly pulled open the nightstand drawer. The delicate chain lay there, silent and solitary, though not long ago it had graced Serafina's slender neck. But Serafina no longer wanted it.
In the deep silence of night, Jacob's eyes grew moist. Today Chloe had asked if he loved Serafina.
How could he possibly love her? She was merely a passerby in his life, just another woman.
Jacob threw the delicate chain into the trash bin, as if discarding everything he'd shared with Serafina. He was determined to move on, determined to stop thinking about her.
But he didn't know that Serafina carried his child. After that day, Serafina moved to Crystal City, living there alone.
For a long time, Jacob never encountered Serafina again. He didn't even hear news of her. It was as if she had vanished completely from his world, with no one mentioning her name in his presence.
Winter gave way to spring. In May, his engagement to Chloe was finalized, and they'd already taken their wedding photos. All that remained was sending out the invitations.
In the Windsor Group's executive office, Jacob sat regally behind his desk, his long fingers holding a wedding invitation. The recipient's name read: Serafina.
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