Jude Crawford looked up and met Isabelle Willow’s clear apricot eyes. Now she was furrowing her willow-leaf eyebrows, looking at him with anxiety and concern. Isabelle Willow quickly realized she had overreacted, her hand still on his forehead. She swiftly withdrew her hand. At this moment, the driver’s door of the car in front opened, and Iris Crawford stepped out. It was Iris Crawford. Isabelle Willow hadn’t seen Iris Crawford for many years. Now, through the windshield, she could clearly see Iris Crawford’s gaze fixed on her, full of hatred. If not for the enormous hatred, Iris Crawford wouldn’t have driven so crazily to force their car to a stop. Isabelle Willow reached out, intending to open the passenger car door. But then Jude Crawford’s deep voice sounded, "I’ll go down, you stay in the car." Isabelle Willow turned to look at Jude Crawford, "Your sister is here for me. I’ll go down to meet her." Jude Crawford’s thin lips curved slightly, his voice turning a bit colder, "What’s the point of meeting? To provoke her?" Isabelle Willow’s fingers curled as she heard the sharp sarcasm in his words, and she lowered her fluttering lashes. At this moment, Jude Crawford opened the driver’s door and got out. He even locked the luxury car, afraid she might get out; he locked her inside directly. Outside, Jude Crawford approached Iris Crawford, his face steady. The fifty-something business tycoon could easily exude a few traces of displeasure and authoritative power. He looked at Iris Crawford and reprimanded her in a low voice, "Iris Crawford, are you out of your mind? Is the road yours?" Iris Crawford glanced at Isabelle Willow in the car, then back at Jude Crawford, "Brother, let Isabelle Willow get out of the car, I have something to say to her!" Jude Crawford showed no expression, merely lifted his thin lips indifferently, "If you have something to say, say it to me." "Brother!" Iris Crawford cried out emotionally, "It’s been so many years, yet you haven’t changed at all. You always protect her , keeping her shielded behind you, protecting her thoroughly, making the world’s storms pass over her and come to you!" Iris Crawford had seen Isabelle Willow, and even after more than twenty years, Isabelle Willow hadn’t changed a bit. The once renowned cold and talented woman, her exquisite beauty and captivating talent hadn’t withered one bit, and what troubled Iris Crawford the most was that Isabelle Willow was still the same maiden. A woman in her forties or fifties living like a young girl, both Seraphina Linden and Isabelle Willow were , but they were completely different. Seraphina Linden was naturally playful, lively, and innocent, making herself live like a young girl, whereas Isabelle Willow was pampered by a man, nurtured by Jude Crawford! Over thirty years ago, Isabelle Willow married Jude Crawford. Jude Crawford built high walls, and with great care, preserved her in luxury. During those years, no matter the storms, even if the world turned upside down, he would always reach out to shelter her, protecting her tightly behind him. All these years, Isabelle Willow has always been herself, dedicated only to design, sketching and drawing with a pen, with Jude Crawford always by her side, holding an umbrella, shielding her from everything. So even now, Isabelle Willow’s brows and eyes are still as pristine and clean, untouched by worldly matters. She married Jude Crawford at 19, and even now, she remains pure and shy, blushing at a few words from a man. Iris Crawford truly didn’t understand how Isabelle Willow could live , why she could live ? Is the difference in women’s lives really just a Jude Crawford? She never met a man like Jude Crawford. Jude Crawford looked at Iris Crawford’s intense manner and furrowed his brows, "Calm your emotions first, and think about what you want to say to me. The way you are now, we have no reason to communicate, so I won’t waste my time. I’m leaving." Jude Crawford turned to leave. But Iris Crawford quickly ran over to block Jude Crawford; she saw the wound on Jude Crawford’s forehead, it had bumped into the windshield, hadn’t bled, but swelled into a large bump. "Brother, you’re hurt, you turned the wheel to the left, didn’t you? Look, just look, you couldn’t bear to let Isabelle Willow suffer even a little bit of harm, you’d rather turn the wheel to the left and hurt yourself!" "Brother, wake up, Isabelle Willow doesn’t love you at all, not even a little. You took her by force; all she thinks about is that first love of hers. You can imprison her, but she still climbed into my husband’s bed, cuckolding you!" Jude Crawford quietly listened to her finish her accusations. His face showed no expression, but his deep-set narrow eyes were as dark as a night sky, thick and unfathomable, "Finished?" "Not finished! Brother, it was Isabelle Willow who killed my child. My baby was nine months old, a boy, and when he was delivered, he was so big, but his body was bruised, lifeless, his body slowly stiffened, I couldn’t save him, I just couldn’t!" "Brother, all these years, every night I dream of my dead child, I dream of him running to me, crying, ’Mommy save me!’" "I can’t have children anymore, I don’t even have the basic rights of a woman, I can’t be a mommy, I will never have my own children, and even so, why did Isabelle Willow have to come back, why did she have to appear before me again, how can you all be so cruel to me, what did I do so wrong!" Iris Crawford’s emotions completely collapsed, her eyes turning red as she shouted and screamed at Jude Crawford. After all, it was his own sister, saying it didn’t hurt would be a lie. Jude Crawford reached out a big hand to hold Iris Crawford’s trembling shoulders, "Iris Crawford, calm down first." "Brother, how can I calm down, I am your own sister, blood is thicker than water, but you’ve been captivated by Isabelle Willow, back then when my child died, you still protected her completely, she is your damn downfall, Jude!" The sibling’s feelings, after all, were hurt that time, a rift appeared. Jude Crawford pursed his thin lips. At this moment, a clear and melodious voice suddenly came from his ear, "Principal Yara, what a coincidence, what are you doing here?" Jude Crawford looked up; Serena Sterling had arrived. Iris Crawford also saw Serena Sterling. Today, Serena Sterling wore a chiffon dress, poised like a water lily, gracefully standing there, her bright and lively eyes gazing at her, with a gentle and warm smile. Iris Crawford’s collapsed and intense emotions slowly calmed down, she haphazardly wiped the tears from her face, then forced a smile, "Serena, what brings you here?" Iris Crawford’s fondness for Serena Sterling was genuine. Latest content published on NoveI[F]ire.net