Chapter 4

When I paid off the private investigator, Seraphina Duval contacted me.

She asked to meet me at a house in the secluded outskirts.

The house, decorated in warm tones, felt so inviting and homey, unlike Julian Thorne's and my place.

He always said he preferred simplicity, so our home was furnished entirely in black, white, and gray.

Seraphina sat on the sofa, leisurely admiring her freshly done manicure.

"So, you finally found out about Julian and me."

With Noah's heart safely in her son, she didn't even bother to pretend anymore.

"Julian promised me he'd bring Leo and me home, making Leo officially a Thorne, rightfully inheriting his name and legacy."

I looked at Seraphina calmly.

"Is that why you called me here? To tell me this?"

My indifferent tone made Seraphina's smug smile freeze. She abruptly stood up from the sofa.

"Scarlett Hayes, what right do you have to speak to me like that? As Mrs. Thorne?"

"Don't be delusional! Do you really think Julian loves you?"

"Back then, he married you for me and Leo, he would..."

Her words abruptly stopped, but she couldn't swallow her anger.

"In a relationship, the unloved one is the outsider! And so is their child!"

"My Leo will be Julian's only son! Everything he owns will belong to Leo!"

"As for your dead son, you can just mourn him in your own lonely way!"

The mention of Noah ignited an uncontrollable fury in my chest.

I yearned to slap her across the face, but my weakened state allowed Seraphina to grip my arm tightly.

She leaned closer, enunciating each word.

"You deserve this. You couldn't even protect your own child."

Humiliation and resentment surged through me, my eyes turning red.

I used all my strength to push Seraphina away. Instead, she suddenly grabbed my hand and slapped herself across the face with it.

She fell to the ground, looking up at me tearfully.

"Scarlett, I'm heartbroken about Noah's death too, but what did I ever do to you that you would treat me this way?"

Before I could react, a powerful force from behind shoved me.

My forehead slammed against the coffee table, and blood instantly welled up.

Julian Thorne, however, acted as if he hadn't seen it. He anxiously helped Seraphina up.

"Seraphina, are you okay? Are you hurt?"

Seraphina shook her head, but tears streamed down her face.

"Julian, my head hurts so much."

Julian Thorne's brows furrowed, and he glared at me viciously.

"Scarlett Hayes, your child is dead, so what gives you the right to come here and act crazy!"

"Apologize to Seraphina right now!"

I was filled with both hatred and anger, unable to control my tears any longer.

"Julian Thorne, get this straight. My child was your biological son too!"

"He called you Dad for four whole years!"

Julian Thorne's expression froze, and his gaze fixed on the bracelet on his wrist.

In that instant, the bracelet felt like a thousand pounds on his wrist.

His arm began to tremble, and he dared not meet my eyes.

He awkwardly turned away, his heart feeling like it was being crushed by an invisible hand, making it hard to breathe.

Only when Seraphina sobbed did Julian Thorne grasp onto her like a lifeline.

He abruptly swept her into his arms.

"Seraphina, I'm taking you to the hospital."

Julian Thorne carried Seraphina away. His steps were quick, yet as he passed me, they seemed unusually heavy.

In the empty living room, I was left alone.

On my phone, there was the audio recording I'd just made, and all the evidence the private investigator had compiled.

One video showed Noah, lying in a pool of his own blood, reaching out his tiny hand to Julian Thorne.

"Daddy, save me! Noah hurts so bad, Daddy..."

But the man just stood there, his face cold, watching the child's hand slowly, slowly fall to the ground.

I stared at Noah's face on the screen, watching the longing in his eyes for his father transition from hope, to confusion, then finally, to despair.

So, my child, before he died, knew the truth: his daddy didn't love him.

What must he have been thinking then?

*Did I do something wrong? Why is Daddy treating me this way?*

Or maybe, *Mommy, run...*

Pain, hatred, a whirlwind of emotions made my entire body tremble.

Footsteps sounded behind me again.

A five or six-year-old boy, pale-faced and clutching a toy airplane, stood at the bedroom door.

He asked me, "Auntie, who are you? Why are you in my house?"

His face was so familiar, and the rhythm of his heartbeat... it was agonizingly familiar.

I stared at his chest, at the faint rise and fall beneath his shirt, at the heart beating there – my son's heart.

If it weren't for Leo Duval, my Noah wouldn't have died.

So why was Noah dead, and he alive?

My gaze grew icy, then, under Leo's questioning eyes, I slowly crouched down.

"Come here, Leo."

"Come home with Auntie. Auntie has candy waiting for you."

...

On the drive to the hospital, Julian Thorne's brows were tightly furrowed.

My tearful questions kept flashing before his eyes, and each memory felt like a stone dropping into his gut, heavy and unsettling, making him increasingly uneasy.

Suddenly, his phone rang, its chime cutting through the quiet, eerie space.

Through the receiver, my voice was calm, like that of a soulless robot.

"Julian Thorne, Leo Duval is with me."

The car screeched to a halt on the roadside. Julian Thorne gripped the steering wheel.

A terrible thought suddenly bloomed in his mind.

Could it be... she... knew the truth?

0

When Julian Thorne and Seraphina Duval arrived, I was kneeling in the living room, meticulously wiping my son's memorial photo.

My movements were so gentle, as if I was afraid of hurting him.