Chapter 654 Luna's Birth Mother Returns 2
Snow fell in silence.
In the winter night, Taylor sat in the car and blinked slowly. Her mind was blank, too numb even to think. All she could do was stare out through the fogged glass at the woman named Cressida.
Every instinct screamed that Cressida's ties to Julian were tangled in something far from simple. The flicker of pain and confusion in his eyes told her more than words ever could.
If her heart hadn't already been caught, she would have walked away tonight without looking back. She wasn't looking for risk, and she had no appetite for heartbreak.
But she had already fallen for him—and the thought of letting go of something that felt so achingly close to happiness was more than she could bear.
Outside, Cressida's figure moved through the blur of the glass until she came right up to the car. She opened the door with the ease of someone who belonged there and said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Julian."
Cold air swept in, enough to stir Luna awake. The little girl blinked drowsily and murmured, "Daddy."
Taylor's chest tightened, the chill in her heart sharper than the winter air. She gathered Luna in her arms, gently patting her back. "I'll take Luna upstairs. You two can talk."
Cressida's gaze flicked toward Taylor and Luna, but she didn't speak to either of them. Her eyes were fixed entirely on Julian.
Julian seemed to come back to himself. He turned to Taylor, his voice rough, "It won't be long."
Taylor gave a faint smile and stepped out into the snow, carrying the child Cressida had brought into the world. She climbed the steps toward the warm light of the hall.
The staff at the Learmond Mansion hurried forward, their faces betraying unease. Clearly, they knew who Cressida was.
Taylor didn't ask. She simply kept walking with Luna in her arms.
Upstairs, under the soft glow of the bedroom lamp, Luna suddenly wrapped her arms around Taylor's neck.
Her voice was barely a whisper. "Is she my mommy?"
Taylor's throat tightened. She wasn't sure if it was for Luna or for herself.
After a long pause, she managed to answer gently, "I don't know. Get some sleep, and in the morning you can ask your dad."
Luna clung to her even tighter.
Outside, the snow kept falling.
Julian remained in the car, no coat against the cold, a cigarette trembling between his fingers. It was the only way he could face a woman like Cressida.
Yes—Cressida was a kind of madness.
Back in college, they'd had a brief relationship. By graduation, he knew it wasn't right and ended it. She refused to let go.
Julian was not a man who acted on impulse; his decision had been final. No matter how she tried to pull him back, he never wavered.
Not right was not right.
But nothing had prepared him for what happened six years ago. He returned from abroad for his older brother's wedding—only to see the bride was Cressida.
During the toast, she leaned in so close he could feel the warmth of her breath.
Her voice was a silken whisper, laced with something darker. "You can't escape me. If I can't be your wife..." Her lips curved into a smile that never reached her eyes. "...then I'll be your sister-in-law." A chill knifed down his spine.
Julian's brother adored her. Blinded by her beauty and talent—she was a bestselling novelist and screenwriter—he married her. Two years later, she was pregnant with Luna.
Then came the crash. His brother fell into severe depression and ended his life with a bottle of pills. The world was told it was an accident. He never lived to see his daughter born.
Julian flew home too late. His brother lay in a coffin of ice, his face as calm as if he were simply resting.
Their parents were shattered. Cressida, heavily pregnant, looked at Julian with soft eyes and said, "Julian, you're back. Your brother is gone."
He had stared at her as if at the devil.
Three months later, she gave birth to Luna—and vanished.
His parents were too broken to cope. Julian took the child in, raising her as his own. He never sought Cressida out. He would not let his brother's daughter be raised by a woman like her.
And now, years later, she was back.
The smoke between them curled into the falling snow. Julian's eyes burned red. Every time he saw her, he saw his brother—saw the man destroyed by love.
"What are you doing here?" His voice was tight.
Snow dusted her shoulders, making her lips and teeth seem even more vivid. She smiled. "I came to see you. And Luna. You're the only family I have left."
"Is that so?" His tone was ice.
He didn't want her in his life, but she was Luna's biological mother. If she fought for custody, it would be a battle. So he swallowed his anger. "Come inside."
He crushed out the cigarette, his long fingers trembling as he flicked away the ash. Cressida noticed.
Her voice turned silky. "Julian, are you really not happy to see me?"
"I wish I'd never met you."
The night dragged on, heavy and unyielding. Even the light in the entryway seemed to shrink back, its glow barely pushing against the dark.
When the staff opened the door to her, their politeness was stiff. Cressida noticed.
She trailed after Julian, her tone deliberately sweet, "Your staff doesn't seem to like me. But whether they do or not, I'm still Luna's mother."
One of the maids forced a smile. "Ms. Lawson, you're imagining things."
Cressida turned with a flawless smile. "Call me Mrs. Learmond."
The maid gave no reply, simply turning away and walking off.
Cressida's brows lifted.
She stepped into the sitting room, slipping off her coat, and looked at Julian. "Are all your staff this insolent, or is your girlfriend just upset I'm here? Even if she is, she can't compare to the bond you and I share. Isn't that right?"
Julian motioned for the staff to leave.
When they were alone, he stood at the window, staring out into the snow. It was the same kind of night his brother had died.
Cressida lounged on the sofa, one hand propping her head. "Did I ruin your evening, Julian? Your staff won't even offer me a glass of water, but your girlfriend can come and go as she pleases."
"You don't belong here. And we're not close."
His coldness made her flare. "You think I killed your brother, don't you? But wasn't it your fault? If you'd accepted me, I never would have gone to him, never married him, never had Luna. He never would have learned the truth and…"
Julian's laugh was sharp. "You haven't changed at all. Still so self-righteous. Still blaming everyone but yourself."
A psychologist had once told him that Cressida's personality fit the profile of narcissistic personality disorder—an untreatable flaw rooted in the brain. He didn't care. All that mattered now was Luna.
The snow outside was as cold as the air between them.
Julian's voice was steady when he finally spoke, "What will it take for you to sign away your rights to Luna?"
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