Chapter 771: The Art of Husband-Taming

Chapter 771: Chapter 771: The Art of Husband-Taming


Now, their eyes meet, Isabelle Willow pale, Jude Crawford indifferent and aloof.


"Sir, it’s the madam and young madam," Butler Thorne noticed the subtle tension in the air, so he spoke up to remind him.


Only then did Jude Crawford start walking toward Serena Sterling and Isabelle Willow.


"Uncle Crawford, are you heading back to Westria? We are going back too; can we take your private jet?" Serena asked, holding Isabelle’s arm.


Jude Crawford pursed his thin lips and spoke very sparingly, "You may."


After speaking, he turned and strode inside, without the slightest intention of waiting for them.


Isabelle stood in place, watching Jude’s departing figure. His gaze towards her earlier was cold, as if looking at a stranger, a chill emanating from his bones.


All these years, no matter what happened, he always held her hand tightly, never letting go.


But at this moment, Isabelle felt he had let go.


He had let go of her hand.


Isabelle didn’t know what happened after that night; his attitude toward her had completely changed.


"Yara Auntie, let’s go in too," Serena acted as if she knew nothing and pulled Isabelle inside.


...


Inside the luxury private jet.


Serena Sterling and Isabelle Willow sat together, Jude Crawford was seated with the beautiful girl, Jenny.


From her angle, Isabelle could see the two in front. Jude held a financial newspaper, while Jenny chatted happily with him.


Jenny sneakily observed Jude, the man lazily leaned against the seat, his proud long legs elegantly crossed, his handsome features sharp like a sculptor’s work, reminiscent of a fine aged Cabernet Sauvignon, richer with age.


Jenny quickly moved closer, deliberately brushing against him, she coquettishly said, "Mr. Crawford, stop reading the newspaper, let’s talk for a while."


Jude raised his eyes from the financial section, glanced at Jenny, then looked down, "What are you brushing against? Sit farther away."


"..." Jenny’s face turned pale, "Mr. Crawford, do you love your wife that much?"


Jude showed little expression, just curved his thin lips into a shape that seemed to smile but didn’t, "You even know I have a wife?"


"..." Jenny felt this man truly couldn’t chat, a real conversation stopper, making it impossible to have a pleasant conversation.


Of course, she didn’t believe it; fifty-year-old men are the most prone to infidelity, career and family reach a harmonious state, while hidden dark factors like physiological desires are not satisfied and start to emerge.


She is young and beautiful, what man doesn’t like young, pretty women?


"Mr. Crawford, of course, I know you have a wife, and she’s sitting behind us. But unfortunately, she seems not to care about you. We are sitting together, and she doesn’t even look jealous."


Jude was hit at his sore point; he recalled the scene in public where she embraced Chase Sullivan, his dark eyes grew colder and more detached.


Jenny raised her brows, looking at Jude with flirtation, "Mr. Crawford, no matter how good the wife is, she’s not young anymore. Now a ripe peach is in front of you, is it not enticing?"


Jude glanced at Jenny’s youthful and beautiful face, without much thought, just felt... it’s quite presumptuous. He said indifferently, "Don’t have designs on me, I’m old enough to be your father."


Jenny flirtatiously played with her hair, calling out, "Daddy."


She had just returned from studying abroad, skilled at seducing men; men love these little games, especially those at this age.


Jude raised his elegant brows at her, exuding a bit of devilish air, slowly leaned closer to Jenny.


Jenny felt the two getting closer, her heart raced wildly; she knew this man couldn’t resist her.


Just then Jude stopped, his cold lips curled slightly, leaning close, he said softly, "Let me tell you again, I’m not in a good mood, don’t bother me. If you really like looking for ’daddy,’ I can help you...find several more."


Jenny froze entirely, her face turned white, his words made her scalp tingle.


She looked at him, although he seemed to smile, the smile didn’t reach his eyes. With an effortlessly sinister gaze, he looked at her, indescribably terrifying and frightening.


Jenny quickly shut her mouth, not daring to say anything.


Behind them, Isabelle watched the scene unfold, Jude so close to Jenny, almost kissing, and he was smiling, a smile so devilishly deep.


Knowing Jude the most intimately, she could tell he was definitely... being unscrupulous again, but this time his teasing was directed not at her, but another girl.


Serena then asked puzzledly, "Aunt Yara, what’s Uncle Crawford doing, has he fallen for that girl?"


Isabelle diverted her eyes, "His matters have nothing to do with me."


Serena looked at Isabelle’s pale face, clearly bothered, jealousy was eating her up inside, yet she appeared indifferent on the surface, alas.


"Aunt Yara, do you really plan not to be with Uncle Crawford anymore? Let me tell you, men are just like children, you need to coax them with some sweetness. If you don’t provide it, naturally they will be drawn to the wild bees and butterflies outside, and as the saying goes, as men get older, they prefer younger girls. Now there’s a young girl glueing herself to him, taking advantage of the situation, Aunt Yara, you’re practically handing your man to someone else, totally not worth it."


Isabelle froze for a moment, looking at the seemingly docile Jenny, her face showed clear admiration and love for Jude, men must like her type.


And then herself, with a cold demeanor, constantly rejecting him, never daring to express her love, never showing him tenderness, so it was only natural for him to turn his affections elsewhere.


Isabelle tried to regulate her breathing, repeatedly telling herself, this is the outcome she wanted, divorcing him, allowing him to find a better girl.


Now everything was as she wished, yet she felt hurt again.


Her heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, not obviously painful, but densely aching, pervasive and inescapable.


Isabelle reached out and tapped Serena’s forehead lightly. She had no daughter, but having Serena by her side filled that regret, she teased with affection, "No wonder Hayden listens to you so much, Serena seems to have mastered the art of taming."


Serena blushed, apologetically said, "Sorry Aunt Isabelle, I sold you out."


...


The private jet arrived in Westria, all four of them getting off the plane.