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From Fake Wife To Billionaire Heiress
img img From Fake Wife To Billionaire Heiress img Chapter 3 3
3 Chapters
Chapter 7 7 img
Chapter 8 8 img
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
Chapter 51 51 img
Chapter 52 52 img
Chapter 53 53 img
Chapter 54 54 img
Chapter 55 55 img
Chapter 56 56 img
Chapter 57 57 img
Chapter 58 58 img
Chapter 59 59 img
Chapter 60 60 img
Chapter 61 61 img
Chapter 62 62 img
Chapter 63 63 img
Chapter 64 64 img
Chapter 65 65 img
Chapter 66 66 img
Chapter 67 67 img
Chapter 68 68 img
Chapter 69 69 img
Chapter 70 70 img
Chapter 71 71 img
Chapter 72 72 img
Chapter 73 73 img
Chapter 74 74 img
Chapter 75 75 img
Chapter 76 76 img
Chapter 77 77 img
Chapter 78 78 img
Chapter 79 79 img
Chapter 80 80 img
Chapter 81 81 img
Chapter 82 82 img
Chapter 83 83 img
Chapter 84 84 img
Chapter 85 85 img
Chapter 86 86 img
Chapter 87 87 img
Chapter 88 88 img
Chapter 89 89 img
Chapter 90 90 img
Chapter 91 91 img
Chapter 92 92 img
Chapter 93 93 img
Chapter 94 94 img
Chapter 95 95 img
Chapter 96 96 img
Chapter 97 97 img
Chapter 98 98 img
Chapter 99 99 img
Chapter 100 100 img
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Chapter 3 3

A week later, the atmosphere in the penthouse shifted from cold to suffocating.

"We're hosting a dinner tonight," Foster announced over his morning coffee, not bothering to look up from his tablet. "Ava is officially joining as the Art Consultant. I want to welcome her properly."

"Of course," Celena said, buttering her toast with mechanical precision. "How many guests?"

"Just us. And Ava. Oh, and she's bringing her foster child. The poor kid has nowhere else to go."

Celena paused. "A child?"

"Leo. He's five. Try not to scare him with your sour face."

At 7:00 PM, the doorbell rang.

Ava swept in wearing a silk dress that cost more than Celena's entire wardrobe. Beside her was a small boy with unruly dark hair and a scowl that mirrored Foster's perfectly.

"Leo, say hello to Mrs. Baird," Ava cooed, though her eyes mocked Celena.

Leo looked at Celena, marched up to her, and kicked her hard in the shin.

"Ouch!" Celena stumbled back, gripping the console table.

Ava laughed, a tinkling, fake sound. "Oh, he's just high spirits! He doesn't like strangers."

"I live here," Celena said through gritted teeth.

"Right. Well." Ava breezed past her into the living room.

Dinner was a torture session. Celena served the roast she had spent three hours cooking. Foster ignored her, focusing entirely on Leo.

"Do you want me to cut that for you, sport?" Foster asked, his voice tender in a way Celena had never heard. He sliced the boy's meat with surgical care.

Celena watched them. She watched the way Leo held his fork-clumsily, aggressively.

Then, Leo dropped his napkin. Frustrated, he reached up and rubbed his left earlobe with his thumb and forefinger, tugging it rhythmically.

Celena froze. The wine bottle in her hand hovered over Foster's glass.

Foster let out a sigh as the cork on the second bottle crumbled. Frustrated, he reached up. He rubbed his left earlobe with his thumb and forefinger.

The exact same motion. The exact same rhythm.

The world narrowed down to those two hands.

Celena looked at Leo's eyes. One was a deep, chocolate brown. The other was a flecked hazel-green. Heterochromia.

Foster's mother, Victoria Baird, had the exact same eyes. Celena had seen those mismatched eyes a hundred times at family gatherings, but in her desperate need to believe in the perfect life she thought she had, her brain had simply refused to make the connection. Until now. Now, with the veil of love torn away, the truth was brutally, painfully obvious.

It wasn't just an affair. It wasn't just a fake marriage.

Leo wasn't a foster child. He was Foster's son.

They had a child. A five-year-old child. Which meant this affair had been going on for at least six years. Before she even met Foster.

"I want ice cream!" Leo shouted, slamming his fist on the table.

"We don't have ice cream, Leo," Celena said, her voice sounding distant to her own ears.

Foster snapped his head toward her. "Then go get some. God, Celena, can't you do anything right?"

He pulled his wallet out and slid his credit card across the mahogany table. It spun and stopped at her fingertips.

"Go. Vanilla. And don't take all night."

Ava placed her hand on Foster's knee under the table. Celena saw the shift in fabric. She saw the smirk Ava tried to hide behind her wine glass.

Celena picked up the card. It felt cold and heavy.

"Sure," she said.

She walked out of the apartment. She took the elevator down to the lobby and walked out into the cool night air.

She didn't go to the bodega on the corner. She walked three blocks to a bank ATM.

She inserted Foster's card. She knew the PIN. It was his birthday. Narcissist.

She checked the balance. Then she hit 'Withdraw'. She took out the daily maximum. Five hundred dollars.

She stared at the cash. It was nothing compared to what she was worth now, but this was his.

She went to a drugstore and bought a pint of generic, freezer-burned vanilla ice cream for four dollars.

Walking back, she looked up at the penthouse window. They were up there, playing happy family. They thought she was the servant, the barrier, the fool.

She wasn't the barrier. She was the bank. And she was about to foreclose.

She re-entered the apartment. Foster and Leo were on the floor building a tower with blocks. Ava was lounging on the sofa, her shoes off.

"Finally," Foster grumbled.

Celena set the ice cream on the table with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. A smile that was all teeth.

"Enjoy," she said.

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