Chapter 720 Avery: Marriage Is a Damn Fine Thing 1
Isadora, of course, denied it.
She untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. Inside lay a bracelet of flawless, crystalline gemstones, the kind of piece that, at a glance, had to be worth forty or fifty million dollars. It was breathtaking.
Beneath it sat a small card.
It read: [Wishing you joy for the rest of your life, Tobias.]
Isadora froze, caught off guard. That was all it took for trouble to spark.
From the driver's seat, Avery let out a sharp, knowing huff. "I told you it was from Tobias. You still wouldn't admit it. Now here's the proof, Isadora. What do you think we should do about this?"
Her fingers lingered on the bracelet. A moment ago, she had felt a pang of sadness.
But Avery's pointed tone swept it away, replacing it with weary amusement. She sighed. "What do you want, then?"
Eyes fixed on the road ahead, Avery stroked his chin in mock contemplation. At last, he laid out a list of demands—each more shameless than the last, with absolutely no regard for propriety.
When he finished, he turned his head toward her with a faint smirk. "What do you think?"
He expected her to bristle. She could be conservative in certain ways, after all.
Instead, she actually considered it. Then she said, matter-of-factly, "On our wedding night."
Avery blinked. The car gave the faintest swerve despite his steady hands. A spark of joy flickered in him. He drifted for a moment, thinking, 'Marriage was a damn fine thing.'
The car rolled on toward the Montague Mansion.
They were on their way to pick up Maggie and take her to see their new home—a sprawling estate of tens of thousands of square feet. Six housekeepers, four chefs, two gardeners, two security guards, and two private tutors for Maggie had already been hired. The cost was astronomical.
When Isadora finished touring the mansion, she turned to Avery. "This is too extravagant."
A quick calculation in her head told her the property, in Evergreen City's prime district, had to be worth at least a billion dollars. With the household staff, the standard was on par with the Montague Mansion itself. It felt excessive.
Avery dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "How can we compare ourselves to anyone else? Other people get married as a couple. We're getting married as a family of three. Of course the celebration should be bigger."
He meant Maggie.
Isadora couldn't help but laugh, and at that moment, Maggie's delighted squeal rang from the children's room.
Avery had bought her a black-and-white kitten.
Its name was Coco.
Maggie cradled the tiny creature in her arms, her face lit with pure happiness. The way she gazed at Avery was nothing short of adoration.
The scene felt almost unreal to Isadora. Yet both Avery and Maggie were here, warm and alive beside her. Maggie was bright, well-mannered, and full of charm. Avery had learned how to be a good husband. He rarely attended social events now and kept a polite distance from other women.
Isadora felt completely content.
Two weeks later came the wedding.
The Montague family invited every noteworthy figure in Evergreen City, including relatives of the Penrose family—those same people who had once scorned and humiliated Lila, Isadora, and Serafina. Now, they could barely meet the brides' eyes without flinching.
Who could have imagined it?
Once, the three women had been easy targets. Now, both Isadora and Serafina had married into the highest ranks of society. Lila, who had once endured Ronan's moods and the bullying of his mistress's illegitimate child to the point of illness, now stood shoulder to shoulder with Sarah and Amelia—each a woman of influence in her own right.
The guests whispered to themselves: from now on, they would have to tread carefully around Lila, Isadora, and Serafina.
Today belonged to Avery and Isadora.
They were a striking pair.
Avery, in a tailored three-piece suit, stood tall at six foot two, every movement radiating quiet authority. Isadora, in her wedding gown, rested lightly against his arm, her figure graceful, her face luminous. Together, they were picture-perfect.
Henry watched them, pleased to see Avery's happiness. His gaze drifted to Taylor and Julian.
Taylor's pregnancy was showing now—five or six months along—but she had gained no weight beyond the gentle curve of her belly. Her complexion glowed. Julian's arm circled her waist, his touch protective.
Henry felt a quiet contentment.
He glanced at Amelia beside him. She was past fifty, yet her beauty remained striking, refined by years of comfort and grace. He couldn't help but take her hand.
"Sweetheart," he murmured.
It was how he had called her when they were young. Somewhere along the way, he had forgotten. Now, with grown children and happiness in their lives, he was grateful to her—for teaching him how to love.
Amelia tilted her head and smiled softly. She remembered everything that mattered, even if some details had slipped away. She knew he was Henry, the man she had loved through all her youth.
Sometimes, in the quiet hours before dawn, Amelia dreamed. In those dreams, she was young again, clutching Henry's hand, pleading to be allowed to work, telling him she was suffocating at home.
In the dream, she wept.
When she woke, she would find herself in Henry's arms. He would already be awake, holding her close, whispering her name, drawing her back from the edge of that old sadness.
Time had healed everything.
They were closer than almost anyone. Perhaps only her brother Oliver and Sarah could match them.
The reception continued. Taylor, mindful of her pregnancy, left early.
Julian, ever attentive, said his goodbyes to Henry and Amelia before escorting her out.
Little Luna followed obediently, now calling Taylor "Mommy" with sweet, unguarded affection.
Together—a family of three, with another child on the way—they stepped into the elevator.
They did not expect to meet Samuel in the hotel lobby.
He was with his new wife, a beautiful, capable woman from a modest background who treated him with warmth and devotion.
Samuel froze for a heartbeat.
The night outside pressed dark against the glass. His gaze locked on Taylor, standing beside Julian. Her face carried a peace he had not seen in years. Luna clung to her hand, leaning close, clearly adoring her. He even heard the little girl call her "Mommy."
Soon, Taylor would be a mother in truth.
Her belly curved gently beneath her dress, carrying Julian's child. The sight alone was enough to twist something deep inside him.
After a long moment, he spoke quietly, "Pregnant? Congratulations."
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