Zoey drew nearer with each step.

The butler escorted them to the pavilion and served them tea.

Korbyn, holding Edwin in his arms, approached. The little boy's face glistened with perspiration, engrossed in his playful antics. Korbyn retrieved a towel from a servant's hand and gently wiped the sweat from Edwin's forehead, cherishing the child in his embrace.

Initially, Zoey paid little mind to the scene, preoccupied with how to approach Korbyn in conversation.

However, upon casting a glance...

No.

Edwin's cherubic countenance and his hair color bore a striking resemblance to Rena's. Upon closer inspection, he bore a striking resemblance of about 70% to Mark, particularly the subtle expressions etched between his eyebrows.

Zoey's composure shattered in an instant...

Mark mirrored her reaction.

His gaze fell upon the child and a chill surged through his veins, rendering him almost incapable of believing his own eyes.

This was the offspring of the Evans lineage.

Yet, Mark was certain that the little boy was not Rena's child.

Mark, over 4@ years of age, harbored no aversion to the notion of family or children of his own. However, his demanding schedule had left him with little time for such contemplations.

Yet here stood a child, manifest before him.

He lowered himself to Edwin's eye level, his voice tinged with a slight tremor, as he inquired, "Who is your mother?"

Korbyn forthrightly informed Mark, "Cecilia."

Mark's fists clenched.

Cecilia had given birth to their child.

An overwhelming desire surged within Mark, compelling him to reach out and touch his own flesh and blood. However, Edwin regarded him with a mixture of apprehension and wariness. In truth, the boy even felt a certain level of fear...

Suppressing his emotions, Mark rose to his feet, a gradual and deliberate motion.

At that very moment, Cecilia's car arrived. She stumbled towards them and scooped up Edwin in her arms.

Everything... became painfully clear.