Chapter 295

The evening was filled with warmth and laughter.

Nathaniel had planned to uncork his finest vintage wine, but Mrs. Vanderbilt insisted Seraphina stick to juice. By the end of dinner, Seraphina had sampled every flavor—orange, grape, pineapple—enough to stock a juice bar.

After the meal, Olivia guided Mrs. Vanderbilt away, leaving Nathaniel and Seraphina alone.

He led her through his sprawling estate, showcasing his prized collection of ancient artifacts and masterpieces. Each piece was a treasure worth millions, some once owned by royalty.

Seraphina leaned over an exquisite Renaissance painting, her magnifying glass in hand, eyes alight with admiration.

"Do you like them?" Nathaniel rested against the bedpost, watching her with a soft smile. "They're yours if you want them."

She studied the art.

He studied her.

"These are priceless," she said, straightening up and peering at him through the glass with a playful wink. "Are you a collector or just a dealer? A true enthusiast would guard them like Dominic—never letting anyone near them, much less gifting them away."

Nathaniel's lips curved. "I'm only this generous with two people—you and Dominic."

Her breath hitched.

Nathaniel and Sebastian were worlds apart. One spoke words that melted her heart, while the other could barely manage a kind sentence even under duress.

"Dominic would drain you dry if he knew you had these treasures," she teased.

"If he wants them, they're his." Nathaniel's gaze never wavered. "The only things I own that might interest him are these artifacts, and I’d gladly part with them. But you—what do you want?"

Seraphina arched a brow. "Besides a stake in the Vanderbilt empire?"

His eyes darkened with unspoken words. You.

Instead, he murmured, "It's snowing, Seraphina."

Her face lit up like the stars.

She adored snow. As a child, her mother would cradle her in the garden, guiding her tiny fingers across frost-kissed surfaces.

"Let's go see it," Nathaniel said.

On the balcony, the world was a canvas of swirling white. Snowflakes danced like scattered petals, painting the night in silent beauty.

"It's breathtaking!" Seraphina tipped her head back, grinning.

Nathaniel shrugged off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, pulling her close. "Beautiful, yes. But I’d rather you not catch a cold."

Warmth seeped into her bones, his scent wrapping around her.

She turned—and found his gaze burning into hers.

"Your glasses are fogged," she said, feigning seriousness. "Can you even see the snow?"

He chuckled, eyes full of affection.

In Helgen, there was a saying: If you want to marry her, watch the first snowfall of winter with her.

Seraphina, cheeks pink from the cold, reached out to catch a snowflake.

Nathaniel's pulse quickened. He wanted to lace his fingers through hers and never let go.

Then her phone rang.

Her smile faltered as she glanced at the screen.

Sebastian.

Nathaniel's jaw tightened. His voice was soft but edged with ice. "Seraphina."

She hesitated, then answered. "Hello."

Disappointment coiled in Nathaniel's chest.

And hatred for Sebastian flared.

Outside, Sebastian stood in the snow, oblivious to her presence just beyond the glass. His voice was rough. "Seraphina. It's snowing. The first snowfall in Elmsworth."

"I noticed," she said flatly.

A pause. Then, strained: "Will you watch it with me tonight?"

She scoffed. "Are you a goldfish? Do you only remember things for seven seconds?"

"I—"

"What exactly is our relationship, Sebastian? Do you think this is appropriate?"

"More appropriate than you being with Nathaniel." Bitterness dripped from his words.

Seraphina's temper flared. "Hardly."

"I won't leave until I see you," he growled.

"Then freeze to death," she snapped.

"Seraphina, are you trying to kill me?" His voice cracked. "Are you really staying at Nathaniel's tonight? Do you even realize what you're doing?"

She stormed away from Nathaniel, lowering her voice. "Sebastian, I appreciate that you saved my life. But that doesn't give you the right to manipulate me."

"I just want to watch the snow with you. That's all."

"And I don’t want to!" Her voice broke. "Not with you. Never again."

Sebastian flinched.

Nathaniel was at her side in an instant, hands steadying her trembling shoulders. "Seraphina," he murmured, lips brushing her ear.

Sebastian heard every word.

Her eyes squeezed shut, lashes damp.

Two years ago, on Christmas Eve—the first snowfall in Elmsworth.

A car crash. Blood. Their unborn child, barely two months along.

She had screamed herself hoarse in that hospital bed, shattered by loss.

And Sebastian?

He had been overseas with his childhood sweetheart, celebrating without her.

When she’d called him, bleeding and broken, the line had been dead.

Now, the memories choked her. Her knees buckled.

"Seraphina!"

Nathaniel caught her just as she collapsed, fury blazing in his eyes.

Outside, Sebastian stood alone, snow piling on his shoulders.

The gates creaked open.

Hope flickered—then died.

Nathaniel strode toward him, face like ice.

"Where is she?" Sebastian demanded.

Nathaniel adjusted his glasses, smirking. "She’s staying the night. She won’t be seeing you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to her."

Sebastian’s fists clenched. "You think you’ve won her with your schemes?"

"Does it matter?" Nathaniel’s mask slipped, revealing a predator’s grin. "I’ll do whatever it takes for the woman I love. Unlike you—playing the saint while abandoning her every holiday for your precious Acacia."

Sebastian paled.

"Valentine’s Day. Christmas. Acacia’s birthday—you were always with her, weren’t you?" Nathaniel’s laugh was cruel. "And now you come crawling back? Pathetic."

Sebastian staggered, chest caving.

"Get lost," Nathaniel spat. "You don’t deserve her."

He turned, leaving Sebastian standing in the snow.

A choked gasp.

Sebastian doubled over, blood splattering the pristine white.

Back inside, Nathaniel didn’t rush to Seraphina’s side.

Instead, he dialed his secretary.

"Dig up everything on Sebastian’s medical records. I want to know what’s wrong with him."

His lips curled.

Tonight had been perfect.

And Sebastian’s suffering was just the beginning.