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Jason Summers had asked her before if she knew a woman named Winter Mercer.

At the time, her mother was using an alias, and Ivy didn’t know she had another name, so she’d said no.

But now that she had reconnected with the Mercer Family, and with a face so much like her mother’s, Jason Summers had surely figured it out.

The words "biological father" made Ivy Sherwood’s blood run hot.

Her fingers fidgeted as she wondered what Jason Summers wanted with her.

"I’m sorry, Mr. Summers, but it’s quite late. Anything you need to say, you can say to me."

Jason Summers shook his head. "Some things must be said to her alone. If today isn’t convenient, I can wait. Anytime works for me. I have all the time in the world."

Quentin said, "I can’t promise she’ll agree. But if she’s unwilling, I hope you won’t force the issue, Mr. Summers."

"Of course," Jason Summers agreed.

"She’s waiting for me, so I’ll be going now."

Quentin returned to his car and drove away, while Jason Summers remained standing in place, still gazing in their direction.

Ivy Sherwood could see Jason Summers’s figure in the rearview mirror. He seemed to be watching her nonstop.

Quentin didn’t say anything. Ivy was the one to speak first. "My brother said that Jason Summers could be my biological father. He said that Jason Summers and my mother were childhood sweethearts, that they were very close and always together growing up."

"He said he wants to see you. Are you willing?" Quentin only spoke after they had driven some distance away.

Ivy fell into a contemplative silence. The truth was, she didn’t know.

She had considered the possibility of seeing Jason Summers again, but it was clear she wasn’t ready.

’I have so many questions for him,’ she thought. ’Why did Mom leave while she was pregnant? What exactly happened all those years ago?’ But at the same time, she felt he must have done something to wrong her mother. Her mother had chosen to run away, so she didn’t want to forgive him either.

’Mom never wanted Jason Summers to know I existed. I’m sure she wouldn’t want me to meet him now, either.’

Ivy mused aloud, "Do you think I should meet with him?"

"It’s your choice, of course, but I think it would be fine to hold off for now."

It was obvious Ivy was resistant. So what if Jason Summers was her father? He hadn’t fulfilled his parental responsibilities all these years.

Besides, Jason Summers was not a simple man. His influence was considerable, he had become very successful over the years, and no one ever knew if he was telling the truth.

In their brief conversation just now, Jason Summers had seemed incredibly devoted.

If he were truly that devoted, things between him and Winter Mercer would never have ended up the way they did.

Ivy said, "Then I won’t see him for now."

Quentin reached out and squeezed Ivy’s palm. "You don’t have to see him, but no matter what happens in the future, you can’t avoid me. And you especially can’t just run off with our child."

"But what if I’m the one who can’t find you?" Ivy asked, tilting her head.

"Then you just stay right where you are and wait for me. I’ll always come back to you."

Ivy nodded emphatically. "Okay, I’ll wait for you!"

...

That night, Ivy tossed and turned, unable to sleep because of Jason Summers.

Quentin gathered her into his arms. "Isn’t it time for another prenatal check-up?"

"So soon? Didn’t we just go to one?"

"It’s been a while. The baby’s definitely gotten bigger. I can feel him kicking me."

Talking about the baby lightened Ivy’s mood a bit. "You’re probably imagining it. I don’t feel him moving."

"Really? Let me have a listen." Quentin ducked under the covers, shifted his position, and pressed his head against Ivy’s belly.

Her belly had started to form a more noticeable curve, and Quentin had been on his best behavior lately, not daring to try anything.

He knew something was weighing on Ivy’s mind—it had to be about Jason Summers—so he tried to distract her with conversation.

"Do you think our baby will be more like you or more like me?" Quentin asked, savoring the feeling of Ivy and their child.

Ivy thought for a moment. "As smart as you, and as lucky as me!"

’I guess you could say I’m pretty lucky,’ she thought. ’I met a wonderful man and found my family.’

There had been some bumps along the way, but everything had turned out well in the end.

At the very least, Ivy felt deeply content with her life right now. If only time could stop here, with Quentin, her grandfather, and her brothers all by her side.

But for some reason, these happy days were tinged with a sense of insecurity, as if they wouldn’t last—like the calm before a storm. It was an elusive, heart-pounding anxiety.

Ivy forced herself to ignore the feeling. All that mattered was cherishing the present moment.

"In that case, I hope the baby is a little more like me," Quentin said.

"Why?" Ivy asked. ’Is being like me a bad thing?’

"He needs to be tall and strong like me, so he can protect his mommy."

Ivy had thought Quentin was insulting her, but she hadn’t expected that was what he meant. ’Compared to him, my thinking seems so small,’ she mused.

"Isn’t it enough to have you protecting me? You need our child to do it, too? What if it’s a little princess? Then you’ll have to protect both of us!"

Quentin shifted his position again and planted a soft kiss on Ivy’s belly.

"Alright. I’ll protect both of you."

"You should get some sleep. Isn’t that position tiring?" Ivy’s hand rested on the back of Quentin’s neck. Her skin was cool to the touch. It was still a colder time of year, but Quentin didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

She knew he was supporting his own weight, careful not to put any pressure on her.

Quentin then pushed himself up and gathered Ivy back into his arms. "So, when are you free to go out with me?"

Ivy thought for a moment. "This weekend?"

"Okay. Pinky swear. If you stand me up, you’ll have to make it up to me twofold later."

...

「The next day」

Ivy went to her studio. The young woman at the reception desk came to her office door. "Boss, there’s a handsome, middle-aged man outside. He’s acting kind of suspicious."

Although he had promised Quentin he wouldn’t show up without Ivy’s permission, Jason Summers was a man of many schemes. Since he had already been spotted, he figured he might as well try a different approach.

When Ivy reached the entrance, she saw Jason Summers trying to hide nearby.

Even though Ivy still didn’t want to see him, she realized there were some things she truly needed to ask.

"Mr. Summers, you don’t have to hide," Ivy called out.

From the side, Jason Summers emerged. His gaze fixed on Ivy’s face. Though he had seen her face several times now, looking at her like this still sent a jolt through him.

’She’s the spitting image of Winter.’ At this age, Winter had possessed that same kind of natural, unique beauty—a perfect fusion of every lovely feature, as if she were a true favorite of the heavens.

He had watched her grow up, and he had loved her since they were children.

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