Chapter 4 - The Retreat to the EstateAmid the roaring chaos of the collapsing wedding, I gently took Noah and Ethan by their hands while lifting Grace and Lily into my arms.
"Come on, my sweet ones," I whispered softly to my children. "Our work here is done."
I turned on my heel, my ivory pantsuit moving gracefully as I walked down the carpeted central aisle toward the gates, completely ignoring the screaming matches, weeping brides, and frantic lawyers clashing behind me.
"Evelyn! Wait! Please, Evelyn!"
I stopped near the iron gates of the estate as heavy, frantic footsteps hurried across the gravel drive behind us.
I turned around.
Julian had run after us, his black tailcoat unbuttoned, his tie torn off, his dark hair disheveled, his eyes bloodshot and overflowing with heavy, unadulterated tears. He looked nothing like the arrogant, wealthy heir who had watched his assistant cry two years ago while pushing divorce papers across a desk.
He dropped flat onto his knees right on the sharp gravel driveway five feet from where my children and I stood.
"Evelyn..." Julian wept, his voice cracking into raw, pathetic sobs as he looked up at me. "My God, Evelyn... what have I done...? I threw away my real family for a lie... I let my father pay you off while you carried four of my children alone..."
My two-year-old twin boys, Noah and Ethan, stared at the weeping man on the gravel with quiet, curious eyes, their small fingers holding my trousers tightly.
"You didn't just throw us away, Julian," I said, my voice calm, steady, and devoid of the slightest hint of bitterness. "You chose a quiet lie because it was easier than fighting for your marriage. You watched a woman cry and forgot the woman who was standing right beside you."
Julian reached out his hands toward Noah and Ethan, his fingers trembling wildly. "Please, Evelyn... let me see them. Let me be their father. I will give you everything. I will strip my father of his voting proxy. I will leave Whitmore Group. I will move to Switzerland..."
"No, Julian," I said softly, every word carrying the weight of an unshakeable, absolute boundary. "You don't get to step into their lives now just because your fake family collapsed. You missed their first heartbeats. You missed their first steps. You missed their first words."
Noah looked at Julian, then looked up at my face. "Mommy, go home now?"
A warm, radiant smile touched my lips as I smoothed Noah’s dark hair. "Yes, my love. We're going home."
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I looked down at Julian groveling on the sharp stone driveway, his head pressed against the ground as he sobbed in total, absolute defeat.
"The twelve million dollars your father gave me two years ago has been wire-transferred back into the Whitmore primary account with full interest, Julian," I stated flatly. "We owe you nothing. And you own nothing of ours."
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