Chapter 683 Maggie, This is Your Daddy 3
Some places were quiet. Others were alive with celebration.
The Learmond Mansion.
Tonight was Julian and Taylor's wedding night. Julian's parents had moved to another estate for the week and, in a thoughtful gesture, taken Luna with them, promising to bring her back in seven days.
Kellan had said Julian should spend the week with Taylor. Taylor was a doctor; it was rare for her to have such a long break.
They appreciated the thought.
After nightfall, while Julian dealt with a few matters downstairs, Taylor went up to their room. She had taken off her makeup, showered, and changed.
Despite the long day, she wasn't tired. She looked around the newly decorated bedroom — a space that now clearly belonged to a woman. A gilded vanity stood by the wall, the curtains and furniture had been replaced with softer tones, all chosen to suit her tastes. Even the bed had been swapped for a larger, softer one.
She applied her skincare, then settled in the sitting area to open wedding gifts. Normally she wasn't materialistic, but tonight felt different.
Perhaps it was because marrying the man she loved was reason enough to savor every detail.
Half an hour later, she was only halfway through the mountain of boxes.
The bedroom door opened quietly. Julian stepped in, still in the black suit from the wedding, the crisp white shirt beneath making him look effortlessly striking. He closed the door behind him and smiled as he watched her work through the packages.
"You were never the curious type," he said.
Taylor's style was usually understated. She was never bare-faced, but she reserved her jewelry for formal events. Most days she dressed simply for comfort, yet her natural beauty always drew attention.
She smiled back. "Well, I am now."
She was still in her silk robe, sitting cross-legged on the carpet, unwrapping gifts.
Julian came up behind her, slipped an arm around her waist, and let his fingers tease her in a way that made her blush.
He stopped before pushing too far and murmured against her ear, "Tonight, you'd better take your time exploring me."
Taylor wasn't some naive girl. She caught his meaning instantly, cheeks warming. "Julian!"
But before the moment could go further, Julian reached for the box in her hands. Inside was a property deed — a luxury villa in Evergreen City's most coveted district. The owner's name was Luna.
The card inside was signed by Samuel.
Taylor stared at it in silence, her eyes glistening. She understood immediately. She and Samuel had been married for seven years without children. Luna, now legally under both their names, was the closest they had to a daughter. And now, on her wedding night, Samuel had given Luna a home.
It was absurd in a way, but it was also a gesture from the heart.
Taylor didn't overthink it. She accepted it on Luna's behalf. It was Samuel's gift to her.
Julian, with just one glance, knew exactly what she was thinking. There was a flicker of jealousy, but he respected her past.
Samuel's blessing was genuine, and Julian wasn't about to give him any opportunity to interfere.
"Moved?" Julian's voice was low, warm.
He tilted her chin up, studying her face.
Her skin was still flushed from the shower. Her brows were naturally dark, her eyes now misted with emotion. Just looking at her made Julian's pulse quicken.
He kissed her, voice dropping to a murmur, "Samuel gave a house. I'll give you all of me. And I'll count on Mrs. Learmond to teach me how to be a good husband."
He knew exactly what he was doing. Taylor couldn't resist him for long. Soon she was beneath him on the carpet, their mouths locked together.
Clothes fell away piece by piece. They moved to the bed, urgency taking over, and the wedding night truly began.
Outside the Learmond Mansion, a black Range Rover idled at the curb.
Samuel leaned against it in the cold night air, a cigarette between his fingers. He knew he shouldn't be here. Taylor was another man's wife now. Coming here was nothing but self-inflicted punishment.
But he couldn't sleep.
Ever since he'd sent Zenobia away, he'd realized what his marriage to Taylor had truly meant. The sleepless nights had begun. The regret was endless. And he'd developed a terrible habit.
He followed her.
He watched her go to the hospital. He saw her exhausted after long surgeries. He saw her pick up Luna from school on her rare days off, take her to dinner, wander through shops. He'd seen her try on a soft, feminine dress — and before he could even smile, she was buying two shirts for Julian.
That day, he'd driven to the river and smoked two full packs.
After that, he stopped following her.
He had finally accepted the truth: she belonged to someone else now. She would never again buy him shirts or ties. She was another man's wife. Those small acts of care would be for Julian alone.
Samuel took another drag on his cigarette. This would be the last time.
At dawn, his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a Facebook message from Avery.
Avery: [What's going on between you and Isadora? Stay away from her.] [Stay away from her.]
Samuel stared at the message for a long time, then muttered under his breath, 'Damn it, Avery. He really thinks everyone wants the woman he's into?'
He didn't explain. Instead, he typed back: [Guess.]
A moment later, another message came through: [Samuel, remember the last time your company stock got hit? I wasn't involved — yet.]
Samuel's jaw tightened. He took a long pull from his cigarette.
So everyone was taking shots at him now?
He smirked coldly and sent back a single phrase: [Just... friend. You know.]
Then he shut off his phone.
Avery. What a piece of work. He knew Samuel was already at rock bottom, and still had to twist the knife. Samuel swore he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Hell, he'd take Julian's last name if it meant staying close to Taylor and Luna.
Even so, his eyes stung.
Taylor. My Taylor.
Avery read Samuel's reply and smiled faintly.
He shifted, cradling Maggie's small body in his arms. Dawn light filtered into the bedroom, casting a pale glow on her soft skin. She smelled sweet, warm — the scent of a child.
So this was what innocence smelled like.
He brushed a hand over her hair, already thinking about the future.
But first, he would have to strip the thorns from Isadora's heart.
If they kept clashing like before, there would be no living under the same roof.
Outside, the day slowly brightened.
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