Listening to Iris Crawford’s words, Zelda Willow was even more shocked. She had no idea what Iris was talking about. Zelda caught the key words—what did she mean by saying that if Isabelle Willow was here, Jude Crawford would not be well; what did she mean by saying if Isabelle Willow was here, Jude Crawford would definitely die; what had happened to Jude Crawford? Back then, the emotional journey of Jude Crawford and Isabelle Willow’s marriage was full of thorns and hardships. On their wedding night, Isabelle Willow eloped with Chase Sullivan but was brought back by Jude Crawford. Later, an incident with Iris Crawford left the Crawford family severely weakened. Then, Isabelle Willow was caught by Jude Crawford bringing Chase Sullivan into Jill’s room, which truly brought the marriage of Jude Crawford and Isabelle Willow to an end. That time was incredibly dark and oppressive; no one dared to breathe loudly. Jude Crawford and Isabelle Willow completely broke off and fell into a cold war. Jude Crawford hadn’t returned to Jill’s room for a long time, and since his marriage, his life had been very clean and simple, with the same routine every day, going to the company and returning to Jill’s room, rarely going on business trips. But he hadn’t been back to Jill’s room for a long while, often drinking to excess. Isabelle Willow soon became pregnant again, expecting a second child, who Jude Crawford believed to be an illegitimate child. One day, she seized the moment, found the drunken Jude Crawford in a bar, and managed to climb into Jude Crawford’s bed, enjoying his favor. Of course, her belly cooperated and soon she was pregnant, expecting a son, Zane Crawford. The biggest beneficiary of that event was undoubtedly her. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs N0veI.Fiɾe.net She and Isabelle Willow became pregnant one after the other; the time during her pregnancy was perhaps the happiest and most triumphant period for her. Because Isabelle Willow lost favor, while she gained it. She naturally did not let go of such a great opportunity. She told Jude Crawford that Yara had made such a big mistake, and she was not comfortable letting Yara raise Hayden again. After all, she was Hayden’s true aunt. Jude, why not let Hayden call me Mommy? Even she felt overstepping when she made this request, knowing how much Jude Crawford resented Isabelle Willow yet adored their eldest son, Hayden Crawford. But to her surprise, Jude Crawford agreed. Only then did she truly realize how much Jude Crawford hated the illegitimate child that Isabelle Willow bore, so much that he took Hayden Crawford away from Isabelle Willow. Later, Hayden Crawford was sent over, entrusted to her care. Hayden was just a few years old at the time but wise beyond his years. He didn’t like her, only wanted his mommy. Once, Hayden bit her, and in her anger, during Jude Crawford’s business trip, she punished Hayden by making him kneel outside. That night, it poured with rain, and the thin Hayden stubbornly knelt all night in the rain, without ever bowing his head. By the next day, he was down with a high fever of 42 degrees. The fever did not abate, and the unconscious Hayden was calling for his mommy... Perhaps, it was the bond between mother and child. That day, Isabelle Willow rushed over to take Hayden Crawford away. However, she did not allow it. While the two sides confronted each other, Jude Crawford returned. At that moment, Isabelle Willow, with eyes red-rimmed, looked at Jude Crawford, "Jude Crawford, give Hayden back to me!" Jude Crawford coldly and heartlessly refused her, "Go back!" Isabelle Willow broke down, clenching her fists, "Jude Crawford, I’ll say it again, give Hayden back to me!" "A thousand repetitions wouldn’t change it. You will never see Hayden again!" Isabelle Willow trembled all over. At this moment, a sharp knife suddenly appeared in her hand, and she pressed the tip against her neck. Jude Crawford’s eyes dangerously narrowed, his handsome face instantly turning cold enough to drip ice. Before Isabelle Willow could make another move, Jude Crawford had already swiftly approached her, snatching the knife from her hand. He lifted his hand and slapped Isabelle Willow hard across the face. That day, with a "slap," Jude Crawford struck Isabelle Willow. The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the entire villa, shocking and oppressing everyone present. Over so many years, it was the first time this man had been so enraged. He was the Crown Prince of the Crawford family, noble blood coursing through his veins. No Crawford man had ever laid a hand on a woman, and for him, even less so. Cold-blooded by nature, a son of the heavens, no woman had ever approached him before. He never needed to use his hands to deal with anyone. But he raised his hand against Isabelle Willow. At that time, Isabelle Willow was already pregnant. Instead of gaining weight, she had grown thin and gaunt throughout her pregnancy, like a kite barely hanging on, ready to fall at any moment. With Jude Crawford’s slap, Isabelle Willow fell awkwardly onto the carpet. The atmosphere was silent for a few seconds. Jude Crawford stepped over, stopped beside Isabelle Willow, crouched down, and gripped her small face tightly with his well-defined hand. He asked her in a sharp, fierce tone, "Tell me where the knife came from—what were you planning to do with it? Don’t tell me you no longer want to live." With her small face caught firmly in his palm, Isabelle Willow felt pain distorting her features, shivering all over from the pain. In Isabelle Willow’s eyes at that moment, this man was like death coming from the depths of hell, pushing her into an abyss. Yara’s cold and aloof almond eyes watched him, just stared, reminiscent of her infatuated gaze in the crowd years ago, under the plum tree where he placed the warm cat ears on her head—all the indescribable longing and secret love had turned into deep-seated pain and despair. She looked at him, tears falling like big drops, flooding her face with tears. But not a single word did she speak. Jude Crawford stared at her, "Isabelle Willow, you better not let anything happen to you, or do you understand that Hayden will be ruined by you? Now, tell me—do you dare pick up a knife again?" Son Hayden Crawford was Isabelle Willow’s last softness and obsession. She felt the touch of a nerve, and all her pain turned into deep fear. She nodded, shaking her head repeatedly, "I won’t... I won’t do it again..." She said she didn’t dare anymore. Jude Crawford’s handsome eyelids moved. Suddenly, he stretched out a strong and powerful arm, pulling Isabelle Willow directly into his arms. He held her tightly, as if he wanted to melt her into his bones, gently kissing her sleek hair, then repeatedly kissing her flushed cheek, "Does it hurt? Did that hit hurt you?" Isabelle Willow’s small hands hung by her sides, as he held her like a broken doll. Her beautiful eyes in that moment lost all focus, becoming blank and hollow. Jude Crawford furrowed his brows, murmuring in a hoarse voice by her white earlobe, "Be obedient from now on; be good, and I won’t hit you..." At that time, she just stood there watching Jude Crawford and Isabelle Willow on the carpet. During the struggle for the knife, Jude Crawford’s hand had gotten a deep cut, with warm blood gushing out, but he remained oblivious.