She Left With His Baby The Billionaire’s Secret Scandal 315

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Christopher POV

The wedding invitation arrived on a Tuesday in January. The heavy cardstock envelope bore the Shaw family crest, because of course it did. Sean Shaw never missed an opportunity for ostentation.

I almost threw it away unopened. Almost. But something made me open it, my hands steady despite the chaos inside me.

Angela Wilson & Sean Shaw request the honor of your presence...

I read the words without really seeing them. The date, the time, the location-all blurred together. What stood out, in elegant script, was a handwritten note along the bottom margin in Angela's familiar handwriting:

I hope you'll be there. It would mean a lot to the children... and to me. - A

I placed the invitation on my desk and walked to the window, staring out at the Mediterranean view without really seeing it. The invitation felt like a death sentence. Final confirmation that those five years had meant nothing-or at least, not enough.

David found me there hours later, still standing at the window, the invitation untouched on my desk.

ventured carefully. "Will you

replied without turning

left the room. David had been

returning to New York. Dust covered the easel in the corner, the paints had dried in their tubes, but none of that mattered for what I needed to

canvas, with new paints ordered and delivered within hours, I recreated the moment that had defined the course of my

fifteen-year-old girl with amber eyes and fierce determination standing up to bullies, defending a boy she didn't

her that day-hair pulled back in a simple ponytail, a blue school sweater, that fire in her eyes that had never dimmed, not even years later. I painted the scene as precisely as memory allowed, every

life could be as it was

Raw, honest, filled with the emotion of a first meeting that had altered the trajectory of my existence. I carefully wrapped it, packaging it securely, arranging for it to be

gift. A reminder of how we

told David I wouldn't attend the wedding. Told myself I wouldn't attend.

glimpse," I bargained with myself. "Just to see her in her wedding

in my best suit-dark charcoal rather than black, a subtle rebellion against

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predictable. I knew the blind spots, the service

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