Chapter 678 Avery Learns the Truth: He Has a Daughter 2
Avery didn't return to the ballroom until the guests were already seated.
Julian and Taylor's wedding had drawn a hundred tables of guests, filling the largest and most opulent hall in Evergreen City. As family of the bride, Avery was seated at the main table.
Autumn spotted him and called softly, "Avery, over here."
He started toward her, but before he could sit, his gaze caught on the next table over. Isadora was there with Serafina, two seats away from Jacob. Her eyes were faintly red, the kind of redness that came after tears.
She wasn't in an evening gown—just a sleek, sheer suit that was both formal and quietly sensual.
Her figure had always been flawless. Avery knew that better than anyone.
And just like that, the memory hit him—of that night years ago when neither of them had control, when two young bodies tangled until dawn. His first time. Her first time.
Later, when she came back into his life, she had probably thought he'd forgotten.
He hadn't.
He had simply never found a reason to start again. There had been no foundation for love between them—only that one night, her inexperience, the tears in the corners of her eyes, and the way her slim, hot body had fit against his.
When they met again years later, they had fallen into bed once more. This time he wasn't inexperienced, and he had taken his time, indulging again and again.
The thought made his throat tighten.
Autumn tugged him down into his seat. He let her press close, his eyes still locked on Isadora.
Taylor, watching from across the table, noticed.
She had already thought it strange when Avery suddenly settled on Autumn a few days ago, as if trying to prove a point to someone.
Now, seeing the way he looked at Isadora, she recognized it for what it was—pure male possession.
She exchanged a knowing glance with Julian.
The reception went smoothly until the toasts began. Julian clapped Avery on the shoulder. "I'm not great with alcohol. Be my shield tonight, will you?"
Normally, Avery would have refused. But his eyes drifted back to Isadora.
She was speaking to someone, and maybe it was his imagination, but there was a softness in her expression he hadn't noticed before. Maybe motherhood had done that to her.
Motherhood.
He hadn't even known she was a mother. And when they'd been together, he hadn't noticed a single difference—she'd been just as slim, just as intoxicating.
His thoughts tangled, but he agreed.
Julian shared another subtle smile with Taylor. They didn't need words to know what the other was thinking.
When they reached the head table to toast, Isadora looked up and met Avery's eyes. Autumn stood beside him, gazing up at him with open admiration. They looked perfect together.
Once again, Avery's words echoed in Isadora's mind.
Avery's gaze met hers. There was still the same edge of hostility, but now something else threaded through it—something she didn't want to name.
She couldn't afford to. Hope and expectation were dangerous. They made women suffer.
Someone called for Julian to drink, but he laughed and passed the attention to Avery. "I can't hold my liquor. Let Avery take this one."
The teasing escalated.
"If it's Avery, it won't be just one drink!"
"And now that he's got a girlfriend…"
"Have him drink with Autumn!"
Julian turned to them. "What do you say?"
Autumn blushed but didn't object. Avery took two champagne flutes from a passing waiter, handed one to her, and downed his in one go.
The crowd cheered.
Autumn leaned into him, all shy smiles and affection. Under the glittering chandeliers, Avery's face was composed, almost restrained—exactly the kind of look that drew women in. But his eyes, dark and unreadable, never left Isadora.
Her face had gone pale. The scene was cruel, and it took every ounce of control she had not to break in front of these people.
Avery's stare didn't waver, as if the rest of the world had faded away.
Even the slowest observer could see it now. Autumn tugged at his sleeve, uneasy. "Avery, what's wrong?"
He only shook his head, offered the table a polite toast, and moved on.
Serafina's hand closed tightly around Isadora's wrist, grounding her.
Jacob, two seats away, glanced between them, then reached over to place a piece of beef in Isadora's bowl. Serafina almost laughed at the absurd tenderness of it, but Isadora's eyes were rimmed red.
From table three, Avery's gaze kept drifting back. Jacob noticed, a faint, knowing smile curving his mouth.
If Avery really married Autumn, Jacob wouldn't believe it for a second.
Others had caught on too—Henry and Amelia exchanged a look.
Avery and Isadora still had unfinished business. Autumn was just a placeholder. The real problem would be explaining it to Autumn's family.
Amelia said nothing. She was Avery's mother, and she wanted his happiness. If his heart still belonged to Isadora, she trusted he would handle Autumn with care.
After the reception, Serafina offered to drive Isadora back to the villa. Isadora declined, "I'm fine. Go home—Abigail's waiting for you."
Abigail was only nine months old, too young to be out in the cold.
Serafina studied her for a moment, then nodded. They parted ways in the hotel's grand atrium.
In the quiet corridor, Jacob walked with his arm around Serafina, their conversation low and easy.
"Tell me," she asked, "for a man, what matters more—a child or the woman he loves?"
Jacob tilted his head toward her, his voice unhurried. "The child he has with the woman he loves—that's what he treasures most."
Serafina didn't respond, just pulled her coat tighter.
Then Jacob asked, "So… Isadora had a child with Avery?"
Her eyes widened. "Jacob!"
They had reached a quiet stretch of hallway when he stopped, taking her hand with a faint smile. "You know, Serafina, no matter how you try to hide it, your thoughts are written all over your face."
"Really?" she asked, touching her cheek.
He chuckled softly. "Luckily, I'm the only one who can read them."
She gave him a look, half embarrassed, but he drew her into his arms.
His face rested against her neck, his breath warm against her skin, his voice low and gentle, "Let them handle their own mess. Avery's not as heartless as you think, and Isadora's not as fragile as you fear."
She didn't answer, but his arms tightened around her.
In his embrace, she slowly let herself relax.
"Since you came back from Vesper City a few days ago," he murmured, "you've been wound too tight."
Her throat tightened, and she felt the sting of tears.
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