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?"

assumed, far too young to be Christopher's mother - stepped up beside

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

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 woman, how they had barely been part

grief and guilt transformed into righteous

demanded, my voice low but intense "Where were you when he needed

arms and positioning himself

place," he said firmly to Christopher's father. We're all here to honor Christopher's

with you," he accused, jabbing

Sean warned, his tone

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you left wounds

he never recovered. At least I gave him five years of family, belonging. What did

know him," I replied, my voice breaking. "Do you know what foods he liked? What made him laugh? The nightmares that kept

Immediately regretted allowing my

father, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You will back away from my family now, or I will have security remove you from your own son's funeral. Christopher gave his

tense silence fell over the gathering. I clutched both children close wishing I could shield them from

"That's quite enough."

commanding. I turned to see an imposing man leaning on a cane, his silver hair and amber eyes immediately identifying him as.

to where we stood, the crowd

sweeping over his son before settling on

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

old man turned to me, his eyes so like Christopher's studying my face

finally. "I never supported his feelings for you. I

name."

his bluntness,

Ethan, who stared back at him with solemn curiosity. "These children –

touching each child's head