Chapter 511 Jacob, My Sister Is Dying in the Delivery Room 1
The atmosphere froze in an instant.
Chloe was displeased, but today was her father's birthday, and a houseful of relatives and friends were waiting to meet Jacob. She dared not—could not—make a scene at such a moment.
A gentle smile curved Chloe's lips. "Why are you standing out here? Everyone's waiting for you inside."
Jacob slowly came back to himself, seeing in the twilight his understanding fiancée Chloe standing before him—not Serafina, not his ex-wife, not the woman who occupied his troubled thoughts.
His mood was foul, and he offered no response, simply stepping out of the car.
The handsome couple walked side by side through the evening dusk, a picture-perfect scene as the Moore family servants greeted them continuously along the way: "Ms. Moore, Mr. Windsor."
Jacob maintained his aristocratic composure, acknowledging no one.
Chloe's heart swelled with sweetness. She couldn't help but slip her arm through Jacob's, walking close beside him, her cheek resting lightly against his broad shoulder. Her delicate skin pressed against the fine fabric of his suit, her long hair flowing loose, lending her an air of gentle beauty—though Jacob, as always, offered none of the tenderness a man should show.
Though disappointed, Chloe didn't mind.
Jacob might lack romantic sensibilities, but he treated all women with the same distant courtesy. Such a husband would give her peace of mind when he traveled on business.
In Chloe's mind, marriage didn't require intimate mutual dependence—her vision of love was meeting someone at life's pinnacle.
The moment they entered the grand hall, Chloe's father approached them. "Jacob."
Only Chloe's parents could address him so familiarly; other relatives and friends still had to call him "Mr. Windsor"—partly due to Jacob's transcendent position in the business world, and partly because Jacob maintained a certain aloofness in his interactions.
The birthday celebration proceeded with polite but lukewarm atmosphere throughout.
Jacob declined the Moore family's invitation to stay overnight and drove home.
The moment he stepped out of his car, an inexplicable fatigue washed over him.
At the Moore Mansion, he had been graciously entertained—far more relaxing than his usual business engagements—yet tonight his spirits felt unaccountably low, for reasons he couldn't articulate.
Summer was approaching, and cicadas filled the air with their chorus.
Jacob carried his suit jacket through the foyer into the main hall, where he found the household staff still bustling about—packing here, cleaning there, the scene resembling a major renovation.
Standing beneath the crystal chandelier, Jacob frowned slightly. "What's all this?"
Hearing his question, Yasmin immediately stopped her work and approached. "Have you forgotten, Mr. Windsor? In three days we move to your new residence. These decorative pieces are quite valuable, so your mother instructed us to wrap them carefully to prevent damage. This painting here contains embroidery work from Ms. Serafina Penrose."
Jacob set down his jacket and approached the hanging artwork. Indeed, it contained an embroidered piece.
Yasmin spoke carefully, "Ms. Penrose brought it when she married you! She must have forgotten it when she left."
These words left Jacob with an uncomfortable feeling.
He was about to marry a new wife.
He would likely never return to this villa again. Once he married Chloe and had children, he would probably gradually forget his brief year-long marriage to Serafina.
Forgetting was natural, yet he stubbornly refused to let go—perhaps because Serafina had left so decisively, throwing herself so quickly into another's arms. Otherwise, he wouldn't be unable to move on.
Seeing his expression, Yasmin couldn't help but console him. "Mr. Windsor, you shouldn't feel melancholy. You and Ms. Penrose have been apart so long. Now you have Ms. Moore, and Ms. Penrose has probably found a new companion too. It's really a happy ending for everyone."
Jacob settled onto the sofa, glancing up at Yasmin—a look that made her heart race with alarm.
Jacob's gaze was truly frightening!
After a long moment, Jacob smoothed his suit trousers, his voice flat. "I'm not melancholy."
Yasmin poured a glass of water and set it on the coffee table, speaking with pointed sarcasm. "Of course not, Mr. Windsor! With money, what young woman can't you find? Less than a year and you're already marrying a new wife."
Jacob fell silent.
Yasmin immediately walked away, returning to her tasks.
Jacob leaned back on the sofa, quietly watching his home with Serafina disappear piece by piece, watching their memories fade bit by bit.
He claimed not to feel melancholy, yet he sat downstairs all night.
When dawn painted the horizon with pale light, the ashtray on the coffee table was filled with cigarette butts, the topmost still releasing wisps of blue smoke.
Isadora made an overnight trip to Crystal City.
Serafina lived in a 2,000-square-foot apartment. Isadora had arranged for a personal assistant and a housekeeper to care for her, visiting herself every two weeks.
Deep in the night, after Isadora had retired, Serafina wrapped herself in a robe and stepped onto the outdoor terrace, gazing at the night view.
Crystal City couldn't match Evergreen City's bustling prosperity—from the apartment terrace, one could even see rolling mountain ranges, and beyond those mountains lay the place where Lila was serving her sentence, having already earned a three-month reduction for good behavior.
She looked down at the torn and mended invitation in her hands.
Jacob was getting married.
He had specifically sent her an invitation—he must hate her, hate her for claiming she was pregnant with Floyd's child. She had let go of that relationship and marriage, but this invitation appeared like a stone cast into the still waters of her heart.
Like this torn invitation—part forgotten, part pieced back together.
In the darkness, Serafina stood for a long time.
The next morning, Isadora left early, with Serafina seeing her to the car.
After settling into the back seat of the black sedan, Isadora couldn't help but step out again. She gently caressed Serafina's swollen belly, speaking in low, tender tones. "I'll come stay with you a week before your due date. Mother will be so happy when this baby is born. Once you've recovered from delivery, we'll visit her together so she can meet your child."
Serafina also touched her belly gently.
After a moment, she whispered her agreement.
May 20th was Jacob and Chloe's wedding day, and it was also the day Serafina went into labor early.
At Stellar Maternity and Pediatric Hospital, the premium delivery room was staffed by top obstetricians Isadora had specially brought from Evergreen City.
Even so, Serafina's labor was fraught with complications: a difficult delivery, followed by severe hemorrhaging.
Isadora stood in the corridor, watching basin after basin of blood being carried out, the sight alone horrifying.
She grabbed a doctor's arm, her voice breaking, "Give my sister the best medicine—I can afford it, I can afford it! Do you hear me? Use the best drugs available!"
The doctor could see she was falling apart.
He tried to calm her. "We're already using the best medications. Right now the patient needs a blood transfusion to prevent shock."
Isadora's voice was hoarse. "Take mine."
She donated 500 milliliters of blood in one session, leaving her pale and unsteady on her feet, but she still insisted on changing into sterile clothing to accompany Serafina in the delivery room.
Serafina lay on the delivery bed, her entire body covered in cold sweat, bright red blood continuing to flow from her body, drop by drop.
Isadora knelt beside the bed, grasping Serafina's hand as she choked out, "Convert to cesarean! Give her a cesarean section!"
But the doctors informed her it was no longer possible.
Serafina's condition wouldn't allow for the switch.
Isadora's lips trembled as she pressed her face against Serafina's hand.
She had been strong since childhood, never one to cry.
But now, tears streaming down her face, she pleaded, "Please help her. Serafina is my only sister! She can't die! She's only 26 years old and about to have a baby."
Then, her eyes brimming with tears, she turned to Serafina again. "Please, I'm begging you—hold on. Don't give up. If you're gone, I don't know how I could raise the child. Think of the baby—please, you must live."
Serafina had lost so much blood she was already delirious.
Her hand was held tight in Isadora's grasp.
She could hear Isadora sobbing, calling out her name over and over, begging her to hold on.
Serafina let her tears fall in silence, thinking to herself, 'Isadora, don't be sad. I have to survive this! We promised to face everything together. We've already chosen a name for our baby—a little girl, Abigail Penrose. You said Abigail would never have to struggle, that she just needed to grow up happy. Isadora, I won't die. Not for anyone else—only for myself, and for our child!'
Serafina opened her eyes wide, her entire body trembling violently as she pushed with all her strength, breathing heavily as she struggled to force the baby out.
Half an hour passed, and she still couldn't deliver naturally—she even experienced brief episodes of shock.
The monitoring equipment beside her began sounding alarms.
Chaos erupted in the delivery room.
Isadora stepped back.
She watched quietly as Serafina lay pale and still, and her heart grew strangely calm.
She murmured, "I was wrong. I shouldn't have let you come live in Crystal City. I should have kept you close to care for you."
Suddenly, Isadora walked out of the delivery room.
She pulled out her phone and dialed a familiar number.
When the call connected, Isadora spoke mechanically, "Jacob, I know it's your wedding day, but my sister is dying in the delivery room. She's carrying your child. Whether you come or not is up to you."
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