Chapter 2 - The Ghost of Weakness Past
The pre-ceremony cocktail hour was Julian’s idea of a flex—a way to force his guests to mingle and admire his wealth before he officially tied the knot.
Sebastian and I secured a table near the back. I didn't need front-row seats to the circus. Maria took the kids to a shaded alcove to keep them entertained with coloring books, though Liam was already charming a wealthy socialite out of a strawberry from her drink.
"Clara."
The voice was like a perfectly tailored straightjacket. Slippery. Confining.
I turned around slowly to face Julian. He was dressed in a pristine white tuxedo jacket, looking every bit the entitled golden boy he had always been. But his confident smirk faltered as he took in the sheer reality of me. He had expected the pale, exhausted, defeated woman he had kicked out three years ago.
He did not expect the woman standing before him, draped in diamonds and holding the arm of a man worth ten times his family's fortune.
"Julian," I said smoothly. "Congratulations. The floral arrangements are... very you. Ostentatious."
Julian’s jaw tightened. He glanced at Sebastian, intimidated despite his best efforts to hide it. "Mr. Cole. I didn't realize you and my ex-wife were acquainted."
"We're a bit more than acquainted, Vance," Sebastian replied, his tone polite but laced with a lethal chill. "Clara is my wife."
Julian blinked, taking a physical step back. "Wife? You—you got remarried?" He looked at me, a nasty, desperate sneer forming on his lips. "Well, I suppose some men don't mind a decorative piece with no function."
Before Sebastian could end Julian’s life right there on the patio, I placed a hand on my husband’s chest.
"Actually, Julian," I said, gesturing toward the alcove. "We’ve been quite functional."
Julian followed my gaze. He saw Liam, Noah, and Maya laughing. Three healthy, vibrant children.
"Whose kids are those?" Julian demanded, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "Did he adopt? Are they a charity case?"
"They're ours, Julian. Biologically," I stated, my voice ringing with absolute clarity. "Triplets. Conceived naturally, less than six months after you served me with papers."
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The color completely drained from Julian’s face. He looked like he had been punched in the stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, but the orchestral music suddenly swelled, signaling the start of the ceremony.
"Better get up there, Julian," I said, offering a sweet, venomous smile. "You wouldn't want to keep your fertile bride waiting."
