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She Was Always the Jewel of Windsor
Novelix
Completed
"The day old Mrs. Moretti's will was read aloud, I learned that my husband had a son. By the time the lawyer reached the final page, two people I'd never seen before had appeared in the conference room. A woman, twenty-five or twenty-six, in a black dress, eyes rimmed red, her head bowed the entire time. A boy, around four years old, sitting beside Dominic's knee, his small hand resting in Dominic's palm. Dominic was filing the child's fingernails. Gently. Like he'd done it many times before. Before closing the documents, the lawyer glanced at me. ""The final item, the old Mrs. Moretti's last bequest—"" ""She leaves all assets under her name to the third-generation heir of the Moretti family—Dominic's child, Nico Moretti."""
Chapters (2)
第1章
The day old Mrs. Moretti's will was read aloud, I learned that my husband had a son.
By the time the lawyer reached the final page, two people I'd never seen before had appeared in the conference room.
A woman, twenty-five or twenty-six, in a black dress, eyes rimmed red, her head bowed the entire time.
A boy, around four years old, sitting beside Dominic's knee, his small hand resting in Dominic's palm.
Dominic was filing the child's fingernails.
Gently.
Like he'd done it many times before.
Before closing the documents, the lawyer glanced at me.
"The final item, the old Mrs. Moretti's last bequest—"
"She leaves all assets under her name to the third-generation heir of the Moretti family—Dominic's child, Nico Moretti."
The conference room went silent.
So silent I could hear my own breathing skip a beat.
I turned to look at Dominic.
He avoided my eyes.
His fingers were still smoothing down the last rough edge on the child's nail.
The boy tilted his face up.
"Daddy, blow on it."
Dominic lowered his head and blew softly on the tiny finger.
His profile was perfectly calm.
As though this were nothing new.
I opened my mouth.
Before any sound came out, the Moretti family elder sitting across from me spoke first.
"Elena, we had intended to discuss this with you at a more appropriate time."
His tone was gentle.
So gentle it was like coaxing a naive child into accepting something that had been decided long ago.
"What weighed most heavily on the old Mrs. Moretti before she passed was the question of the family line."
"You and Dominic have been married for six years."
He didn't finish the sentence.
But everyone knew the rest.
Six years. No children.
Dominic's mother continued, her voice even softer, as though afraid of shattering something fragile.
"The old Mrs. Moretti was very ill at the time. The family had many doctors review your medical records…"
She paused.
"It's a uterine condition, isn't it?"
I didn't answer.
Because she was stating a fact.
It had been diagnosed three years ago. Dominic had gone to the hospital with me. The night we got the results, he held me and said it was all right, said we'd figure something out, said there was no rush about children.
He said there was no rush.
But the old Mrs. Moretti couldn't wait.
"What the old Mrs. Moretti meant was that a family like the Morettis cannot let the line die out with this generation. She… made certain arrangements."
Arrangements.
I looked at the woman with her head still bowed.
Vivienne Lacroix.
She hadn't once looked up at me.
Her shoulders trembled slightly.
The elder lowered his voice, as though presenting an unavoidable matter of business.
"Vivienne was brought in by the old Mrs. Moretti. Respectable background, clean bill of health. It happened two years ago."
Two years ago.
While I was still taking medication to prepare my body.
"Dominic refused at first."
"But the old Mrs. Moretti's condition deteriorated suddenly. She was afraid she wouldn't live to see…"
He didn't finish.
Dominic finally spoke.
His voice was very low.
"That night, Grandmother had something put in the wine."
The conference room was so quiet you could hear the wind outside the windows.
"When I woke up, it had already happened."
His hand rested on the child's fingertips. "I didn't know how to tell you. Grandmother said if I didn't accept all of it, she'd keep arranging other women for me. All I could do was go along and silently pray that nothing would come of it."
"But Vivienne got pregnant."
"It wasn't my choice either." The woman called Vivienne looked at me with red eyes and a face full of guilt. "The old Mrs. Moretti paid for my education. She said she wanted to meet me. I woke up the next morning in that bed."
"They kept me under strict control—until they confirmed the pregnancy, until I safely delivered Nico."
"I never wanted to take anyone's place."
I listened to all of it.
Every word was telling me the same thing—how perfectly innocent every single person standing before me was.
The old Mrs. Moretti did it for the family legacy.
Dominic was set up.
Vivienne was used.
The child was blameless.
Everyone had their reasons.
But my heart was breaking.
The elder spoke again at just the right moment.
"Elena, in her will, the old Mrs. Moretti says she's deeply sorry for orchestrating all of this. She was always very pleased with you—she simply believed that children are the foundation of a family. She hopes that if you must blame anyone, you blame her, and not the child. She asks that you accept Nico and raise him well."
His voice even carried a note of earnest appeal.
"It would be best for everyone. The child would have a proper place in the family, and you would also…"
"Also what?" My voice came out calmer than I expected.
Dominic's mother said, "Also have a child of your own."
I tugged at the corner of my lips and met Dominic's gaze.
Very softly, I said, "You know, we could just get a divorce."
第2章
Everyone was so sure they'd done nothing wrong.
But neither had I.
I said it again: "We could just get a divorce."
The moment the word divorce landed, every gentle face in the conference room changed.
The elder's smile froze.
Dominic's mother stopped her teacup halfway to her lips.
Vivienne's head snapped up, guilt replaced by something closer to panic.
Only Nico went on playing with Dominic's fingers, oblivious to everything.
Dominic looked at me. "Elena."
"You're upset right now. Don't say things like that here."
"I'm perfectly fine," I said, looking straight at him.
"I've just listened to everyone's side of the story, and I'm offering a solution that's actually best for all of us."
"This is NOT best!" Dominic cut in sharply. "So you'd throw away everything we've built together? All these years?"
"Elena, I never meant to wrong you."
The elder chimed in.
"And Elena, you need to understand—marriage in the Moretti family is not something to be taken lightly. You and Dominic have deeply intertwined assets and interests."
"Saying 'divorce' is the easy part. The fallout that follows—you can't shoulder that alone."
Dominic's mother set down her teacup with a sigh.
"Dear, no one is trying to push you out. Quite the opposite—the old Mrs. Moretti wanted you to stay in this family, to let Nico call you his mother."
"You are Dominic's wife. No one has ever tried to change that."
In the end, nothing was resolved.
Let me think about it.
That evening, the child was brought before me. He called me "Mother" in a shy, timid voice.
"We were worried you might not know how to care for a child, so Vivienne will stay for a while. Once you've gotten the hang of things, we'll arrange for her to leave."
Clearly, no one had taken my mention of divorce seriously.
The second night, Nico came down with a fever.
When the maid knocked on my door, I had just dug out the divorce lawyer's business card.
She stood in the doorway, white-faced.
"Ma'am, the young master doesn't seem right. His forehead is burning and he won't stop crying."
I hesitated for a moment, then got up immediately.
Nico was curled up on the bed, his small face flushed crimson, tears clinging to his lashes, mumbling for his daddy.
Vivienne was at the bedside, frantically wiping his sweat. When she saw me come in, she stood up as though she'd been caught doing something wrong.
"I don't know why he suddenly—"
"Never mind that."
I sent the maid to fetch the family doctor and called Dominic.
When the line connected, his end was noisy—he was still out at some reception.
I said only one thing: "Nico has a fever. Come home."
Two seconds of silence.
Then his voice came through, lowered but unmistakably tense.
"How did he suddenly get a fever?"
"Elena." His tone hardened. "I left the child with you for one day."
"Did you not take proper care of him? I know he's not your biological child, and I understand if you can't accept it right away."
"But he's so little."
"He's the only child I'll ever have."
"Elena, can't you just be a little more generous about this?"
When that last sentence fell, something slammed into my chest.
I heard myself ask, very quietly, "You think I made him sick on purpose?"
A beat of silence on the other end.
But he didn't deny it.
He only pressed on more urgently: "That's not what I mean. I just don't want you taking out your resentment toward me on the child. Besides…"
He stopped.
Then, as if anxiety had stripped away every filter:
"Besides, the one who can't have children is you, not me."
The entire room went still.
Vivienne's head shot up, the color draining from her face.
The servants froze where they stood. No one dared make a sound.
I held the phone, and suddenly my arm felt impossibly heavy—so heavy I could barely keep it raised.
It wasn't the first time I'd heard those words.
They were there in the sentence the elder never finished.
They were there in the tender sigh of Dominic's mother.
They were there in the will's talk of "the foundation of a family."
But I never imagined that one day they would come from Dominic's own mouth.
The family doctor arrived quickly.
He took Nico's temperature, checked his throat and breathing, and finally exhaled with relief.
"It's nothing too serious. Young children are sensitive to big emotional changes—move them into an unfamiliar environment and they're prone to stress-induced fevers."
Dominic had just rushed back.
He stood in the doorway, coat still on, and when he heard those words, his steps faltered.
The doctor continued: "Too much has happened these past few days, hasn't it? He's very young. Being separated from familiar people and places is frightening. If someone stays with him tonight and he takes his medicine on schedule, the temperature should come down."
Dominic's gaze drifted slowly toward me.
Something like dawning horror flickered behind his eyes, as if he'd only just realized what he'd said.
"Elena, just now I—"
His mouth opened.
But I found I didn't want to hear it.
Strange.
When the will was read, I didn't cry.
When I learned he had a child, I didn't cry.
When I watched Nico hold his hand and call him Daddy, I didn't cry.
But in that moment, all I felt was tired.
A weariness that radiated from the marrow of my bones, so heavy it crushed every last ounce of fight out of me.
I had honestly been ready to let it go.
I'd told myself: Dominic was a victim too.
That night wasn't his choice.
Vivienne wasn't my enemy.
Nico had done nothing wrong.
If it had truly been an accident—if Dominic were still standing beside me, if he could hold my hand and say we'll get through this together—maybe I really would have swallowed my pain.
Six years of marriage can't be severed with a single sentence.
But it turned out that wasn't how things stood.
This child meant more to him than I'd ever imagined.
Enough that his first instinct was to suspect me.
Enough that he could rip open my deepest wound and then tell me to be generous.
I looked at him and said softly, "Just take care of the child."
Dominic's eyes tightened, as though he still wanted to explain.
I didn't look at him again. I turned and left the room.
In the small hours, I couldn't sleep.
A single wall sconce lit the hallway, casting dim light.
I pulled on a jacket, meaning only to check whether Nico's fever had broken.
But when I reached the door, I heard Dominic's voice inside.
Low. Patient. A kind of patience I hadn't heard from him in a very long time.
"What does Nico usually like to eat?"
Vivienne answered softly: "Sweet things—pumpkin purée, and apples."
"And his room? What does he like it to look like?"
"The old place was small. He liked having a star-shaped night light by the window."
Dominic laughed softly.
The sound was low and tender.
"So children really are that fascinating."
After a while, he said, "These past few years… it must have been hard on you."
Vivienne didn't answer. She seemed to be crying.
Dominic handed her a tissue.
"From now on, I won't let either of you be treated unfairly."
I stood outside the door and watched in silence.
Watched him bend down to tuck the blanket around Nico.
Watched his practiced hand feel the child's forehead.
Watched him ask about the first time Nico walked, the first time he spoke, the first time he called someone Daddy.
All those small, ordinary moments I once believed we would share—now gathered up one by one from another woman's memory, cherished like precious things.
I didn't go in.
I just stood there for a long time.
Long enough for my feet to go numb. Long enough for the sharp ache in my chest to slowly flatten into something dull and dead.
Then I turned and went back to my room.
I opened my laptop.
My mind was remarkably clear as I drafted the divorce agreement. Six years of marriage and not a single thing I'd done wrong—I wasn't about to walk away empty-handed.
Property. Shares. Pre-marital assets. Post-marital earnings. Joint accounts. The residence.
Every item, spelled out in black and white.
When I reached the signature line at the end, I stared at my own name for a long time.
Elena Moretti.
No.
I deleted the surname and typed my real name.
Elena Windsor.
Dawn was breaking, the sky outside turning ash-gray.
I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time.
It rang twice before someone picked up.
My father's deep voice came through.
"Elena?"
My throat seized without warning.
Every grievance I'd carried finally found its way out.
I closed my eyes and said softly:
"Dad."
"I want to come home."
The voice on the other end was impossibly gentle. "All right. Daddy's coming to get you. I'm sending the plane right now."
