Mrs. Willow?
Isabelle Willow...
Hearing that na, Zane Crawford’s handso eyelids slightly moved. When he was very young, he had seen a portrait of Isabelle Willow in his father’s study.
His mother, Zelda Willow, and Isabelle Willow looked very similar, but at that ti, he could imdiately see the differences between the two. Isabelle Willow was stunning with a celestial grace, her eyebrows and eyes exuded a cool elegance that made her seem like an ethereal fairy, while in comparison, Zelda Willow was as different as the earth to the sky. This similar face was not a plus, but rather underscored the disparity.
He was shocked at the ti. He raised his tiny hand, wanting to touch the face in the painting.
He didn’t know what was happening to him, as if there was a call from the depths of his soul. He had an overwhelming desire to get close to the person in the painting.
But before his little hand could touch it, the door of the study was pushed open, and his father appeared.
He still rembers his father’s cold, frosty expression. His father sternly said to him a few words, "Get out! Rember, this person in the painting is not soone you can touch!"
As a little child, he was thus awkwardly driven out. At that ti, his aunt had just returned, and he stood outside, listening to his aunt and father having a big argunt in the study.
So, from a very young age, Zane Crawford knew that his father loved only one woman in his life, a woman nad Isabelle Willow.
Since he was the son of his mother, who was not favored, his father also did not like him, and he didn’t even have the right to touch Isabelle Willow.
His mother often told him to compete, to fight, claiming that since he was also a descendant of the Crawford family, why should he have nothing?
In fact, it wasn’t that he had nothing, but that he wanted nothing. From a young age, he had longed for that unattainable fatherly love but had grown afraid.
He is a doctor, but all these years he has been healing himself. So people spend their entire lives healing their childhoods.
Hayden Crawford was much luckier than him because Hayden t Serena Sterling. Serena extended a hand, offering him redemption, giving him boundless love.
But he, ultimately, was too late.
He t Serena Sterling too late, and all the youthful amazent and heart-pounding feelings turned into his deepest regret. Perhaps one day he would marry, have children, beco a husband, beco a father, but as ti settles and the years pass, none could ever replace her.
He never forgot that more than four years ago, in the underground dical research base, her soft little hand reached out to him, her eyes full of light as she told him, "Zane, I’m here."
He once said, loving her was the most beautiful thing he did in his life.
The tenderness she gave made him feel that the world was also treating him kindly. He was willing to slowly try to be forgiving, to let go, to move on.
In the end, she said to him, "Zane, I look forward to eting a better you at the next stop."
For that sentence, he dared not let his steps stop for more than four years. With soone as wonderful as her, how could he be extraordinary enough to stand by her side?
Now, suddenly hearing the na "Isabelle Willow," there was a mont of daze in Zane Crawford’s bright black eyes. He quickly said, "No need, I’m not familiar with her, there’s no need to et."
...
On the street, Hayden Crawford embraced the fleeing Serena from behind, his brows and eyes filled with laughter, "Serena, what’s more important, spending ti with the kids or spending ti with , hmm?"
His warm breath sprayed onto her tender skin, tickling her slightly. Serena laughed as she dodged, "Mr. Crawford, aren’t you too old for this? You’ve been jealous of my dad, now you’re jealous of the kids."
Hayden pinched her soft waist, "Think carefully, where have you been spending your ti lately? If I don’t cause so trouble, will you just forget ?"
Serena turned her head, her bright gaze landing on his handso, well-defined features, "Mr. Crawford, hasn’t that little white flower, Caroline Sloan, been with you all along? You shouldn’t be bored."
"Jealous?" Hayden raised his heroic eyebrows, his mood slightly uplifted.
"I’m not." Serena turned to flee.
But Hayden pinned her glistening shoulder, directly pressing her domineeringly against the wall, his clean, crisp masculine scent enveloping her completely. His tall figure quickly encompassed her in his arms, "Serena, tonight I have a lot of ’dues’ to hand over to you, this should very well prove my innocence."
Serena quickly understood the aning of the word "dues." Her pretty face turned red, "Mr. Crawford, have so sha."
In fact, Hayden had no sha at all. He lowered his eyes, directly capturing her red lips with his own.
The two of them were still on the street, but it was the middle of the night and there weren’t many people. He trapped her in his embrace, passionately kissing her.
Serena tilted her fair neck, passively enduring it. Her soft white fingertips landed on his body, trying to push him away, but his muscles were hot and hard, as if burning, clearly showing it had been a long ti since he’d been with a woman.
Serena curled her fingers, wanting to retract her small hand, but Hayden grabbed her little hand, slowly guiding her downward...
No.
Serena refused, but Hayden nuzzled the tip of her small nose, his voice raspy as he called her, "Serena..."
Serena quickly closed her eyes, her small face already as red as a cooked shrimp. Why did she feel Hayden was such a fatal man?
Her fingers loosened, no longer resisting.
Hayden’s prominent Adam’s apple moved up and down. Tonight, he neither wanted to take her ho nor go to her place because he couldn’t wait any longer.
He looked up, seeing a hotel in the distance, and pulled Serena’s small hand, directly leading her there.
"Mr. Crawford, where are we going?"
"To the hotel, to get a room."
Serena’s long lashes trembled, he!
What Hayden decided was impossible to change. Serena stumbled as he led her inside. He was too eager, and this was not a star-rated hotel but a small motel. The receptionist was a middle-aged woman who was watching TV.
Hayden held her hand with one hand, while with the other, he lifted his finger, tapping it rhythmically and powerfully on the counter.
The receptionist quickly looked up, and when she saw Hayden, her eyes lit up, "S-sir, would you like a room?"
The receptionist never had the chance to see a man of Hayden’s caliber in such a small hotel, and now Hayden’s presence left her dumbstruck.
Hayden’s handso face showed no expression, he said calmly, "Get a room, just one."
Getting one room, the receptionist quickly glanced towards Serena.
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