“It isn’t.”
“It certainly appears—”
“I said
it isn’t
.”
His voice cracked through the ballroom so sharply that one of the musicians lowered her violin.
Vivian stared at him.
Julian turned back to me.
“What did you send?”
“An ultrasound.”
“What else?”
“A letter.”
“What did it say?”
“That there were three babies.”
He closed his eyes.
For one second, the elegant groom disappeared.
The billionaire heir disappeared.
The polished public figure disappeared.
There was only a man standing in a ballroom discovering that four years of his life had been taken from him.
When his eyes opened again, they were wet.
“Three?”
I nodded.
His gaze moved to the children.
“Noah,” I said quietly, touching his shoulder.
“Miles.
Lily.”
Julian repeated the names under his breath.
As if afraid he might forget them.
“Noah.”
A breath.
“Miles.”
Another.
“Lily.”
Then Lily did something I did not expect.
She walked toward him.
My entire body tightened.
But she did not touch him.
She simply held up the photograph.
“You look younger here.”
A few people laughed nervously.
Julian stared at her.
Then, incredibly, he smiled.
It lasted less than a second.
But I remembered that smile.
It had once been home.
“Yeah,” he whispered.
“I was.”
Vivian moved forward.
“Julian, we are not doing this here.”
He turned.
“Doing what?”
“Allowing Claire to manipulate you.”
Something inside me finally snapped.
“Manipulate him?”
Vivian looked at me.
I walked toward her.
“You told me I was defective.”
Her face hardened.
“I said no such thing.”
“You said a woman who could not secure the Prescott future was not suitable for your son.”
Several heads turned toward her.
“You told Julian I had left because I didn’t love him enough.
Didn’t you?”
Julian’s head jerked around.
Vivian said nothing.
I continued.
“You told him I wanted out.”
My eyes filled.
“And you told me his silence meant he agreed with you.”
Julian whispered, “Claire…”
I shook my head.
“No.
You were silent that night.”
“I know.”
“You let her talk about me like I was breeding stock.”
His face crumpled slightly.
“I know.”
“You let me walk out.”
“I know.”
Those two words carried more honesty than any excuse could have.
For a moment, the rage in me loosened.
Not disappeared.
But changed shape.
Because Julian had failed me.
Vivian had betrayed us, but Julian’s silence had given her room to do it.
That mattered.
Brooke stepped down from the platform.
“Where did the original letter come from?”
I looked at her.
“The rejection letter?”
“Yes.”
“It was mailed to my apartment.”
“From where?”
“Prescott House.”
Vivian’s eyes flicked toward Brooke.
Very fast.
But Brooke noticed.
So did I.
Brooke said, “Show me the envelope.”
I removed it from the folder.
She studied the postmark.
Then she did something strange.
She smiled.
Not happily.
Like someone discovering the final piece of a puzzle.
“I thought so.”
Vivian’s expression changed.
“Brooke.”
Brooke looked up.
“You should tell him now.”
Julian frowned.
“Tell me what?”
Brooke turned toward him.
“I don’t think your mother invited Claire.”
Every eye in the room landed on her.
I blinked.
“What?”
Brooke looked directly at me.
“I sent the invitation.”
For several seconds, I could only stare.
“That’s impossible.”
“No.”
“You copied Vivian’s handwriting?”
“Yes.”
Vivian’s face had gone completely still.
I held up the envelope.
“Why?”
Brooke looked at Julian.
Then at Vivian.
“Because six weeks ago, I found something.”
Vivian hissed, “Stop.”
Brooke ignored her.
“My father asked me to find the Prescott family trust documents for our prenuptial agreement.
