Chapter 4

CHRISTIAN I looked at my ex-wife, falling silent at Blake's words. She was still beautiful, only there was no longer the tenderness she once showed me. I remembered how she called Zeon "my son," as if he were not hers. At that moment, I couldn't help but be glad Zeon was asleep. He didn't need to know what a cruel person his mother was, though her leaving three years ago was proof enough. "Can we spend the night here, Madam?" Assistant Blake asked, his voice begging. "It's Dr. Granger," she corrected, and I scoffed. I could see she was hesitating, yet I couldn't understand what was troubling her while Zeon was still feverish. Did she really not care at all? Just when I was losing my patience, she finally nodded. "Well, you can stay. But only for a night. You have to make other arrangements tomorrow." "We have no wish to stay here either," I interrupted, anger raging in my chest. "If it weren't for this unusual nature, we wouldn't have troubled you." "Whatever!" She replied nonchalantly. "Maria, show them their rooms on the north side." Veronica stepped toward the door without glancing back. Suddenly, some monitor rang, and a child's cry cut through the atmosphere. She froze, and the next second, she rushed off the door to the main villa with a worried face. "I-is that a child crying?" Blake gasped, his gaze turning to me in surprise. "I believed the mada-- Dr. Granger resided alone! Is there any other patient except us?" "I apologise for the inconvenience." The servant followed Blake in the chamber slightly bowed at us. "Madam has placed baby monitors throughout the house as our young miss is quite young and frequently requires her mother's attention." It was like a thunder hit my heart. A little child— So she's with another man already? The stark reality pierced my heart, causing intense emotional ache. Memories of that night three years ago resurfaced—the night I returned home to find her short note on the floor. 'Let's separate, Christian. I've signed the divorce papers and left them for you. You are free from today onward....' and then that ruthless paper I found. The only words she had for me after five years of marriage. She even left a second note for Zeon, seeking his forgiveness. Her departure stirred something within me, and I, like a crazed man even though she was never completely into me to begin with. I searched for her throughout the city, but no trace of her was found; she disappeared into thin air. I hadn't realized she was serious about divorce when she mentioned it the other night; I thought she was just expressing boredom. So, I intentionally brought up Zeon in our conversation, so she stops thinking to leave me. However, in the end, she left me and our son. Tonight felt like a blessing in disguise when I finally found her, but— Now, she has a daughter… "P-papa—" Zeon's weak whisper broke my thoughts as I immediately rushed to his side. "Yes, I am here." I touched his head; the fever had slightly reduced. "M-om… D-did sh-e c-co-me to s-ee m-e?" He queried, his little voice cracking from exhaustion. "I-I h-ha-ve se-en h-er…" My heart ached as if gripped by an iron fist. Swallowing the hard knot in my throat, I caressed hishead-- "she'll be in front of you when wake up, now go back to sleep, okay?" I assured him. He slowly blinked, then turned away and closed his eyes—perhaps silently questioning my truthfulness, as he has in the past. But my son, I wasn't lying this time. She is here, very near to you. Papa just doesn't know if she wants you anymore. "Boss, we should move the young master to his room," Blake said softly from behind. "Yes," I murmured, pushing aside my troubled thoughts. I carefully lifted my son and followed the servant. The guest room was quite spacious and tastefully decorated, reflecting her simple yet pleasant style. I laid my son in bed; his eyes remained closed as he turned away from me. He's not asleep yet. Of us all, Zeon misses her most. Although he rarely mentions her, except during his illnesses, I know my son. He endures his sorrow quietly and alone. After tucking him in with a warm quilt, I left the bed and turned to my assistant, "Keep an eye on the weather. We must leave by the morning." I stated coldly. I wished to avoid any further interaction with that woman and spare my son the distress of her presence. "Sir, the weather forecast is unfavourable; I'm not certain we can leave in the morning," he replied hesitantly. "Then manage something else!" I glared at him. "Yes, sir!" he said hurriely before quietly departing. Throughout the night, I was unable to sleep. Her harsh tone, the infant's cry, haunted me. The urge to rush and ask her why she did that to us kept me unsettled. She had a child with another man? Did she leave us for him? Did she consider Zeon's feelings at all? I wonder if she is happy now, despite the hurt she caused us. I had many questions for her, but I chose to remain with my son instead. As dawn broke, I felt a little drowsy when a small disturbance caught my attention. I blinked and turned to Zeon; he was softly weeping in his sleep, murmuring, "M-mom-my..." My heart aches for my son as I hold him close. His fever has not fully subsided yet. I gently patted his back as I gazed at the ceiling. Zeon is my world, and I can not bear to see my child suffer. This innocent boy is enduring pain through no fault of his own. Should I speak with Veronica about this? Will she be receptive now? I am uncertain, but I can attempt to discuss it. Zeon longs for his mother's love, and although it pains me to admit it, only Veronica can offer him that comfort. Soon, the morning approached, yet darkness and heavy rain persisted outside. I checked on my son and was relieved to find his fever had subsided completely. Thank God. I got out of bed and decided to speak with Veronica first. I am uncertain of the outcome, but I am prepared to do anything for my son. On my way out, I encountered a servant from the previous night. I stopped her and asked about Veronica. "Madam is in the kitchen downstairs, sir," she replied. "You will find her there." With a racing heart, I hurried downstairs. However, upon nearing the kitchen, I paused, stunned by the scene before me. Behind the counter, she was smiling happily with a man. Who is he? Could he be the father of her daughter?