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.
carefully. "Will
I replied
quietly left the room. David had been with me long enough to know
frequently but had barely entered since returning to New York. Dust covered the easel in the corner, the paints had dried in their tubes, but none of that mattered for
something I was about to lose forever. On fresh canvas, with new paints ordered
long shadows. A fifteen-year-old girl with amber eyes and fierce determination standing up
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 de crystallized by years of
as it was at
that had altered the trajectory of my existence. I carefully wrapped it, packaging it securely, arranging for it to be
goodbye gift. A reminder of how we began,
David I wouldn't attend the wedding. Told myself I wouldn't attend. But as the day approached,
"Just to see her in
in my best suit-dark charcoal rather than black, a subtle rebellion against the
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occasion. I didn't RSVP, had no invitation in hand, but security a Shaw events had always been predictable. I knew the blind spots, the service entrances, the
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