Whispers Of The Thornfield Empire

"Keep your head down, Hale. And don't ever come back."

Following the guards' orders, Seraphina Hale walked out of the Hartford Women's Correctional Facility. She had been locked inside for three years.

Sunlight hit her face for the first time in what felt like forever.

Not far away, a black Maybach was parked at the curb. Two figures stepped out and walked toward her, one tall, one small.

"Sera. I'm here to take you home."

Sera lifted her eyes and looked at them.

Her husband, Julian Blackwood, and her nine-year-old son, Wells Blackwood.

Julian's gaze met hers, and he froze for half a second. Something uneasy flickered in his dark, sharp eyes.

She had lost so much weight.

The radiant, fearless woman he remembered was gone. In her place stood someone hollowed out, with a lost, haunted look.

Is she faking it?

Memories from three years ago flashed through his mind, and his face turned cold again.

Even if it's real, she brought this on herself.

"Get in the car," he said, his voice flat and without a trace of remorse. "Three years should have taught you your lesson. Don't make the same mistake again."

He reached out to touch her hair.

Sera flinched violently and threw her hand up to shield her face.

Julian's brow furrowed. "You..."

She lowered her eyes and said nothing.

She had been beaten every day inside. Her body had learned to react before her mind could.

Wells, standing beside his father, was stunned too.

His mother used to be beautiful. Bright. Vibrant. Her smile had been soft enough to light up a room.

Now he barely recognized her.

What happened to her?

A moment later he pulled himself together, his small face hardening. "Dad's right. Aunt Vivi was kind enough to forgive you. But Mom, if you ever hurt Aunt Vivi again, Dad and I will never forgive you."

"Forgive?"

Sera's face was blank. Then, slowly, pain and mockery surfaced in her eyes. She let out a hollow laugh.

"Does the man who personally sent his wife to prison get to talk about forgiveness?"

The father and son in front of her were the husband and child she had once loved with everything she had.

They were also the ones who put her behind bars.

Julian had saved her life once. That was why she had been so sure, years ago, that she would marry him.

Back then, the Blackwoods couldn't compare to the Hales. She brought her family's money and connections into the marriage. She even fought with her own mother to be with him.

After the wedding, she gave up her career for the family. She was a gifted physician, the heir to a renowned family tradition of botanical medicine. Yet she traded her lab coat for an apron and slowly faded into a worn-out housewife.

She thought she would at least earn some respect.

Julian stayed cold and distant.

Even her own son kept her at arm's length. He often said, "Mom, you don't even have a job. You have no right to tell me what to do."

She had always believed the two of them were simply born aloof.

Until Julian's first love, Vivienne Lockhart, came back from Paris.

In front of Vivienne, he dropped his usual arrogance. When he smiled at her, his eyes softened and went deep.

It was the first time Sera realized Julian was capable of smiling that gently.

On their wedding anniversary, her old postpartum complication flared up and the pain doubled her over. She called Julian in desperation.

He hung up on her. He was too busy celebrating Vivienne's birthday.

She survived multiple surgeries and received several critical condition notices. Neither her husband nor her son ever showed up.

When she finally came home from the hospital, a messy house was waiting for her, along with a resentful son and an indifferent husband.

Wells complained right to her face. "Do you even know how to be a mom? You've been gone forever and you didn't even clean the house! You're not half as good as Aunt Vivi!"

Clean the house?

She had nearly died.

Sera told herself he was only a child, speaking without thinking. Julian was just naturally cold. They would come around in time.

That was how she got by, one day at a time.

They have a son together. How could she walk away?

Then came the charity gala. Vivienne fell from the raised stage and swore Sera had pushed her.

Julian and Wells refused to even look at the security footage. Instead, they stood up as Vivienne's witnesses.

Sera clutched her stomach, dropped to her knees, and begged Julian to believe her. The gravel on the ground tore her palms open until they bled.

Julian's face didn't change. He frowned and carefully wiped the hem of his coat with a handkerchief.

He was only annoyed that she had gotten his custom-tailored suit dirty.

Wells shoved her away and sneered. "You're a vicious woman. You don't deserve to be my mother! I wish you had died on the operating table when I was born! Then Aunt Vivi could have been my mom!"

Sera collapsed on the ground, her heart going numb. Then, suddenly, she laughed.

She laughed at her own misplaced love. She laughed at her own foolishness.

In the end, she was convicted of aggravated assault and sentenced to three years.

The women inside were vicious and merciless. For three years, she endured every kind of abuse.

Her husband and son never wrote. They never visited. They forgot she existed.

If it weren't for that one thing, she would have died in there.

Seeing her silent, Julian spoke coldly. "Wells and I don't care that you've been in prison. It's generous enough that we're willing to take you home. Vivi is waiting for us, so don't waste time."

Wells added impatiently, "Yeah, Mom, stop being so dramatic. Aunt Vivi's making me bear-shaped cookies tonight. If we get home late, the ice cream cake I bought for her is going to melt."

Sera listened in a daze.

A wave of irony washed over her.

Bear-shaped cookies?

Wells had forgotten that this fussy, time-consuming recipe was something she had developed for him.

Vivienne had simply copied it later.

Same cookies, same recipe, yet her son insisted Vivienne made them better.

Now her husband and son had come to pick her up from prison, and their minds were still on the woman they loved.

Between Vivienne and her, they had always believed Vivienne. They had always chosen Vivienne.

Even the child she carried for ten months had been named Wells.

Wells. Wells. Her husband had named their son so that another woman would be well.

Sera lifted her head, her voice empty. "I'm not going back with you."

A flash of impatience and disgust crossed Julian's cold eyes.

"Not going back? With a record like yours, where else would you go? Who's going to take you in? Three years in there, and you still haven't learned?"

"You don't want a wife with a record," Sera said quietly. "And I don't want a husband and son who would drag me into hell."

Some people can't be taught, no matter how many times you try.

She had learned her lesson once. Once was enough.

Three years ago, she loved Julian and Wells so deeply that she kept hoping they would change, even as they treated her coldly, looked down on her, and stayed close to Vivienne.

But now, three years of torment had killed that hope.

Her husband. Her son.

She couldn't afford them, and she didn't want them anymore.

Sera looked at Julian, her voice calm. "Let's get a divorce."