hapter 4
On the morning of the banquet, I booked a one–way international flight.
The Anderson estate buzzed with activity. Servants rushed through the hallways like clockwork, while the kitchen filled with the aroma of roasting bacon and the pop of champagne corks.
My son–Carson–wore a miniature three–piece suit with a white boutonnière pinned to his chest, looking like a proud little ring bearer.
He introduced her to everyone: “This is Zoe, she’s my favorite person!”
Everyone praised him for being adorable, well–mannered, and refined—a golden–haired angel shaped by his “wonderful stepmother.”
Nobody mentioned I was his biological mother.
Even fewer people cared that I was about to leave.
I stood at the top of the stairs, watching people fuss over Zoe like she was already the true lady of the house.
And me? Just a passing guest.
I finished my last tasks at the hospital, transferred patient files, and left notes on several important cases. Then I prepared to leave.
I didn’t have much luggage. My entire life now fit into a black leather crossbody bag–documents, plane ticket, notebook, an old Leica camera, and a USB drive.
Just as I stepped out of my bedroom, Mason suddenly appeared like he’d materialized from thin air.
He was breathing hard, his hair disheveled–clearly he’d been looking for me.
When he saw my outfit–gray wool coat, comfortable sneakers, no makeup–he froze.
“Where are you going?” he asked, his tone carrying no authority, just… confusion.
I shook my head, keeping my voice calm:
“What’s wrong? Need help with something?”
He bit his lower lip, like he was suppressing some impulse.
“Thank you… for everything you arranged for the banquet.”
Then he paused, like he was searching for words, or weighing something.
13:45
His Rival’s Baby in My Belly. While He’s Babysitting His Pregnant Ex?
Chapter 4
“After all this is over, maybe we… could consider having another child.”
When he said this, he smiled–his lips curved with a tenderness I’d never seen before.
That’s when I realized: in all our years of marriage, he’d never smiled at me like that.
I returned a polite, restrained smile, my eyes holding only the calm of goodbye:
“We’ll talk about it later. Zoe’s calling for you.”
He turned, and sure enough, Zoe stood by the front porch pillars, waving sweetly at him.
He took a step toward her, then suddenly stopped, turned back, and gently patted my hand.
“I mean what I say.”
“I promise I’ll make it happen.”
“Okay.”
He finally relaxed and walked quickly toward Zoe. Sunlight fell across his shoulders as his shadow moved inch by
inch away from my feet.
We turned our backs to each other, walking toward completely different fates.
I went straight to the private investigator’s office.
He handed me a thick stack of files–evidence of Zoe’s relationships with multiple men: texts, photos, location records, even a grainy video.
I flipped through quickly, then pushed the materials back.
“Send these to every local media outlet,” I said, my tone so calm it was almost mechanical. “Have them publish everything in exactly two hours.”
I closed my bag: “Remind them that I’m still Mrs. Anderson.”
He frowned, clearly hesitant. But when I pulled out a six–figure check from my wallet, he said nothing and nodded as he took it.
My flight would take off in two hours.
On the way to the airport, I sent Mason a text:
[Check the news in two hours.]
He didn’t reply.
13:46
His Diuals and
Chapter 4
I figured the family banquet was just getting started.
When I reached the airport, there was still an hour before boarding.
Check–in, security, waiting area. Everything proceeded smoothly.
I didn’t turn on my phone or look back.
But at the gate, I caught a glimpse of the news screen–a live broadcast.
The Anderson estate.
Zoe sat in the center of the patio wearing a white dress, glowing with maternal radiance.
Mason stood behind her, one hand resting on her chair back like he was guarding the world’s most precious
treasure.
‘He may not be my biological son,” Zoe said, tears glistening, “but he’s truly family in my heart.”
Carson gripped her arm tightly, grinning wide:
‘She’s my real mom!”
Five minutes before takeoff, I was buckled into my business class seat.
The flight attendant reminded us to turn off our phones.
One minute before takeoff, just as my thumb hovered over the power button, my phone suddenly vibrated violently, the screen exploding with notifications.
13:46
