Chapter 5: Why Was Daddy Carrying That Lady?

Seraphina's POV

Isolde's brown eyes were wide with confusion. "Mommy, why was Daddy carrying that lady?"

I forced a smile. "That must be someone from Daddy's company who isn't feeling well."

She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful beyond her years. "But we're at the hospital too. Why does Daddy care about her but not about us?"

Her innocent question laid bare the painful reality I'd tried so hard to shield her from. Even a four-year-old could see the stark difference in how Dorian treated Belladonna versus his own family.

About an hour later, we were collecting Isolde's test results when we encountered Dorian and Belladonna again. She was seated in a wheelchair, looking pale but composed. Dorian stood protectively beside her.

"Daddy!" Isolde called out, hope flaring in her voice again.

Dorian nodded stiffly. "Isolde."

My daughter, always eager for connection, pointed curiously at Belladonna. "Who's that pretty lady, Daddy?"

I held my breath, silently praying he would show some tact, some basic human decency.

Instead, Dorian's face remained impassive as he said, "Isolde, this is my girlfriend."

The words struck me like a physical blow. Beside me, Isolde went very still, the color draining from her already pale face.

I took a deep breath, crouching down to Isolde's level. "Sweetheart, this is Miss Hawthorne. She's... your father's girlfriend." I forced my voice to remain calm, though I was breaking inside. "There are some things Mommy hasn't explained yet. Your daddy and I... we're not together anymore. But no matter what, Daddy will always be your daddy, and I'll always be your mommy..."

Isolde's eyes filled with tears. "I still have a mommy and daddy," she whispered, "but Mommy, you don't have anyone anymore..."

Her words cut deeper than any knife could have. This child—my beautiful, perceptive daughter—worried not about herself but about me being alone.

I stroked her golden-brown curls, fighting back tears. "Mommy still has you, sweetie. That's all I need." I straightened up, composing myself. "Say hello to Miss Hawthorne."

Isolde wiped her tears and managed a smile that broke my heart. "Hello, Miss Hawthorne."

At that moment, Olivia appeared, helping Dorian and Belladonna complete their paperwork. I handed Isolde to her for a moment.

"Dorian, can we talk?" I asked, my voice steady despite the storm inside me.

He turned to me, impatience written all over his face. "What are you playing at, making a scene in front of Isolde?"

Before he could continue, Belladonna interrupted, tugging gently at his sleeve. "Dorian, if Seraphina wants to talk, you should. Don't argue in front of Isolde."

I found myself in the bizarre position of being grateful to my husband's mistress for her intervention. Dorian's jaw tightened, but he nodded and stepped aside with me.

We hadn't been alone together in so long that I momentarily froze, unsure how to begin. Dorian's impatience was palpable.

"What do you want?" he demanded. "Bringing a child to places like this—what kind of mother are you?"

I ignored the jab. "You promised to spend a month with Isolde. For this month, can you please keep Miss Hawthorne away from her?"

His eyes narrowed. "I agreed to spend time with Isolde. Nothing more."

"You're truly a master of deceit," he continued, his voice turning cold. "You climbed into my bed using the dirtiest tricks—if it weren't for you, I wouldn't be anybody's father!"

Even after all these years, he still refused to believe me about that night. It had been an accident—I didn't even know why I was in that room, let alone in his bed. One night resulted in Isolde, and I'd thought she was heaven's blessing. But now...

Looking at my daughter's fragile form, I felt only sorrow. My poor child—perhaps she'd simply come to see this world briefly before deciding to leave it.

"Dorian, do you resent this so much? Enough to hate your own child?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"This child wasn't my choice," he said, his face contorted with disgust. "When you schemed to have her, you should have known this day would come."

"Mommy!" Isolde's voice suddenly broke through, thick with unshed tears.

I whirled around, my heart pounding. How much had she heard?

"Isolde, let's go back. We shouldn't interrupt Daddy and Mommy," Belladonna said, reaching for my daughter from her wheelchair.

"Don't touch me! I want my mommy!" Isolde jerked away, struggling against Belladonna's grasp.

"Ah!" Belladonna cried out suddenly, clutching her cheek.

"Isolde!" I shouted.

"Belladonna!" Dorian moved to her side immediately.

I gathered Isolde in my arms, checking her for any sign of harm. "Are you okay, baby?"

I noticed Belladonna's cheek had a small scratch where Isolde's fingernail had caught her. A tiny drop of blood appeared—barely a scratch, but it was enough to enrage Dorian.

He grabbed Isolde's arm roughly, pulling her toward Belladonna. "Apologize! Now!"

Isolde's tiny body trembled under his harsh grip, but her eyes flashed defiantly through her tears. "She pulled me on purpose! I didn't mean to come here! I just wanted to find Mommy!"

"Dorian, please, it's not the child's fault," Belladonna said, tugging at his sleeve. "Don't be angry with her."

Her intervention only seemed to infuriate him more. He glared at Isolde, whose features—so similar to mine—seemed to fuel his anger.

"You're just like your mother," he spat, contempt dripping from every word. "So vicious, even at this age!"

"Don't talk about my mommy like that!" Isolde shouted, her small body positioning itself protectively in front of me. "My mommy is the best person in the world!"

Though her tiny frame shook with fear and emotion, she stood firm, defending me when I should have been protecting her.

Dorian merely scoffed, not sparing another glance for his daughter as he turned away, pushing Belladonna's wheelchair toward the exit.

I knelt beside Isolde, wrapping my arms around her. "I'm so sorry, baby."

"Daddy doesn't like me, Mommy," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I know it. He doesn't even come when I'm sick."

"I used to want him to be with us, but he doesn't like you, and he doesn't like me either."

Her next words shattered what remained of my heart: "Mommy, I don't want to leave you, but I'm scared. When I'm gone, you'll be all alone. What will you do?"

Before I could answer, her body convulsed, and blood—bright red and terrifying—spurted from her mouth. She curled into a small ball of pain and despair.

"Isolde!" I screamed, panic overwhelming me. "Doctor! Help! Please, someone help my daughter!"

"Isolde, don't scare Mommy like this! Please, baby!"