The Secret Pregnancy of the Billionaire's Ex-Wife

She Left With His Baby The Billionaire’s Secret Scandal 319

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Angela Pov

The London cemetery was shrouded in a fine mist that seemed fitting for the occasion.

I held Ethan's hand tightly as we approached the gathering of black lad mourners. Aria insisted on being carried by Sean, her small arms wrapped around his neck, her face partially hidden against his shoulder.

Christopher's coffin sat at the front, polished mahogany gleaming dully in the weak English sunlight. Beside it stood a large portrait of him - not the intense businessman I'd known in recent years, but younger version with a rare, genuine smile. It made my chest ache to see it.

We found seats near the back, hoping to remain inconspicuous. I wanted this to be as undisturbing for the children as possible. But we had barely settled when I noticed a commotion near the front. An older man with Christopher's jawline was staring directly at us, his expression darkening from grief to something more volatile.

"That's her," he said loudly, pointing in our direction. "That's the woman who got my son killed."

Heads turned, and I felt myself shrinking under their collective gaze. Ethan pressed closer to my side.

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The man

or alcohol.

Christopher's father, I realized – broke away from the group and approached us, his steps unsteady with either emotion

"You have no right to be here," he spat, stopping just short of our row. "Christopher would still be alive if not for you and your selfish games."

I stood, instinctively positioning myself between him and the children. "Mr. Blake, I understand your grief-*

"You understand nothing!" he interrupted, his voice rising. "My son wasted his life chasing after you, and this is how you repaid him?"

far too young to be Christopher's mother - stepped up beside him, placing a

to a funeral?" she asked, her voice dripping with rehearsed sorrow. "Especially when their mother is

false tears started then, perfectly timed. I might have believed her grief if I hadn't known the history - how Christopher's father had abandoned his first wife and son for this

inside me. My grief and

low but intense "Where were you when he needed parents?

my arms and positioning

said firmly to Christopher's

obsession with you," he accused, jabbing a finger at me. "Used him as a babysitter while you chased other

Sean warned, his tone

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you left wounds

recovered. At least I gave him five years of family, belonging. What did you ever give him except pain?" The young wife gasped

you know what foods he liked? What made him laugh? The nightmares that kept him awake?

pale with confusion and distress, Immediately regretted

will back away from my family now, or I will have security remove you from your own son's

the gathering. I clutched both children close

"That's quite enough."

new voice came from behind us elderly but commanding. I turned to see an imposing man

where we stood, the

over his son before settling on me. "No one forced his hand. To suggest otherwise insults his memory

shrink under his father's stern gaze. The young wife quickly composed herself, her theatrical tears magically drying

to me, his eyes so like Christopher's

you're Angela," he said finally. "I never supported his feelings for you. I thought

name."

at his bluntness, but

and Ethan, who stared back at him with solemn curiosity. "These children – he spoke of

out, gently touching each child's head in