At these words, Seraphina Quinn shuddered violently.
Her pupils constricted sharply. A furious, hostile energy flared in the depths of her eyes before it was forcibly quelled, leaving behind a chilling calm.
Except for her bloodshot eyes, she appeared remarkably composed. "A son? I wish I had one, but I'm not so fortunate."
Cecilia Winslow frowned. "You don't have a son? That's impossible..."
Seraphina Quinn's face was devoid of expression, her voice icy. "When did I have a son? How is this news to me?"
Cecilia Winslow hesitated, her frown deepening.
"I distinctly overheard Dad telling our older sister in the hospital room that you've been secretly raising a son abroad. He even swore he would dig to the ends of the earth to find him... What's going on? Did I hear him wrong?"
Cecilia Winslow's words were loaded with information.
'First, Walter Winslow most likely knows I had a son behind Damian Fairchild's back.'
'Second, he's sparing no effort to find my son.'
