The Belated Confession from a Disqualified Father

My six-year-old twins, Liam and Lily, begged to go to Disneyland.

But my husband, Julian Vance, planned to take his mistress to a prenatal clinic.

Annoyed by the twins' crying and deeming them "too delicate and spoiled," Julian drove them out to the Mojave Desert, demanding they learn how to survive on their own.

I couldn't even fathom it. I begged him desperately.

"Julian, please! Give me the coordinates! Tell me where my babies are!"

"They're only six! They'll die out there! I promise I'll discipline them. I'll never let them bother you again. Please, just let me go get them back!"

The only answer I got was the sound of him having sex with his mistress.

By the time Julian found out the truth, it was already too late.

He knelt before me, crying and pleading for forgiveness, but my children were no longer around to forgive him.

And I could never forgive him on their behalf.

Chapter 1

The wooden door of the office muffled some of the noise, but I could still hear the rhythmic thumping, accompanied by Chloe's breathy, sickly-sweet giggles.

They were having sex. Right there, while my babies were roasting under the blazing sun.

The intercom on the wall buzzed, and Julian's voice came through the speaker, breathless and full of contempt.

"Get the hell out, Serena!" he snapped. "They've been taking private wilderness survival lessons since they were four. If they don't even have the basic skills to survive a little camping trip, they don't deserve to be my heirs!"

A week later, I stood in the basement of the coroner's office. To identify two bodies.

They died of severe dehydration.

The coroner warned me before lifting the white sheet: "Before the search and rescue helicopters arrived, desert wildlife-coyotes and vultures-got to them."

The moment the sheet was pulled back, I couldn't breathe.

The mangled remains lying on the steel tables were my children. My sweet Liam, whose favorite thing was playing with Legos. My darling Lily, who always dreamed of being a princess.

That night, as I sat in the morgue's waiting room, clutching their blood-stained clothes to my chest, the sky outside the window suddenly erupted in dazzling colors. Fireworks.

I found out later that Julian had rented out the Santa Monica Pier to host a massive fireworks show, celebrating the fact that Chloe was carrying a healthy baby.

That same night, a video of him went viral on social media.

In the video, he held a glass of champagne, and a reporter asked about his eldest son and daughter.

Julian scoffed at the camera. "I can have as many kids as I want. The next one will definitely be raised right. Let's hope those two little brats have learned their lesson roughing it in the wild."

I sat in the dark, staring at my phone screen. A hoarse, hollow laugh ripped from my throat, tasting like ash.

"They learned it, Julian," I whispered to the empty room. "They're dead."

Looking back at the closed doors of the autopsy room, the brutal reality completely crushed me. Grief stabbed into my gut like a jagged blade, the pain unbearable. I threw my head back and let out a sound I never thought a human could make-a primal, feral, soul-shredding scream.

"Liam! Lily! My babies!"

The agonizing pain of losing my children felt like having my heart ripped raw from my chest without anesthesia. A pungent metallic taste surged into my mouth. I coughed violently, bright red blood splattering onto the pristine hospital tiles, and then everything went black.

I woke up lying in a hospital bed. Outside the window, the grand finale of Julian's fireworks show was still illuminating the night sky with golden sparks.

In the hallway, I heard two nurses talking in low voices.

"Did you see the news? The CEO of Vance Enterprises put on that whole show for his pregnant girlfriend. My god, it's so romantic."

"I know, right? That kid is going to be so spoiled. Talk about hitting the genetic lottery."

I lay there, my gaze dead and fixed on the ceiling.

Under the romantic glow of the fireworks, my heart had long since frozen. The image of my lifeless children was permanently burned into the back of my eyelids.

I picked up my phone from the nightstand and dialed Julian's private number.

The phone rang for a full minute before he finally picked up.

"Serena, I'm busy," he snapped, his tone laced with obvious impatience. "I already had my guys go pick up the kids this morning."

"You should be tucking them into bed right now, not calling me to play your manipulative little games."

I gripped the phone tightly.

I would never be able to read Liam and Lily a bedtime story again. I would never be able to kiss their warm foreheads again. My throat felt like it was blocked by something, and my voice came out raspy.

"Julian... they're never coming back."

His tone suddenly dropped, turning ice-cold. "Chloe already spoke with the rescue team. They reported that the kids are perfectly fine and on their way home. Drop it, Serena. You're being pathetic."

"They're gone-"

"Smothering mothers ruin their kids!" Julian yelled at me. "If I don't force them to toughen up, how are they going to survive in the corporate world later? If you don't have the guts for it, then shut up. Don't make them as weak as you are! Now stay home and take a good hard look at your own behavior!"

He hung up the phone.

Standing at the door of my hospital room was Eleanor Vance, Julian's grandmother and the formidable matriarch of the Vance family. She had heard everything. Her hands, resting on her silver-tipped cane, shook with rage.

"That bastard!" she hissed, her eyes wide with horror and fury. "To do something so atrocious... he just signed his own death warrant with me! Serena, you wait right here. I'm going to tear him to pieces."

I slowly sat up, my fingers tightly clutching the two tiny friendship bracelets the twins had woven for me. My body trembled with a cold, hollow wave of grief.

"There's no need," I said hoarsely.

Liam and Lily just wanted their father to spend more time with them. Instead, they were tortured to death under the scorching sun.

I finally saw the truth I had deliberately ignored for years: to Julian, Chloe was everything. My children and I were nothing but disposable trash.

No amount of revenge or apologies could ever bring my babies back.

At the crematorium, I stood behind the thick glass window, watching two tiny caskets being pushed into the roaring incinerator. I didn't shed a single tear.

Perhaps when a person endures pain beyond the limits of sanity, the brain simply shuts down in order to survive. I was completely numb.

However, Eleanor collapsed in the viewing room, clutching her chest as paramedics rushed in.

When it was all over, I sat on a wooden bench, tightly holding two small, delicate urns. They were so light.

My vibrant, cheerful, beautiful children had all been reduced to ash.

I pressed my lips against the warm wood.

"Let's go somewhere far away, my sweet angels," I whispered to the quiet room. "Mommy is taking you far, far away. We're never coming back to this awful place."

That night, the Vance estate was covered in flowers and candles. In the center of the massive living room, two large portraits of Liam and Lily were surrounded by a sea of white lilies. In the photos, their smiles were bright, their missing front teeth making them look heartbreakingly innocent.

I knelt on a cushion before the altar, keeping vigil day and night. I didn't eat, barely drank water; I just kept a silent watch, keeping my children company on their final journey.

This world is too cruel, my babies, I thought, looking at their radiant smiles. In your next life, just be a little kitten or puppy. But make sure you find Mommy. Okay?

For three days, Julian never showed up once.

The security team I sent to find him returned looking deeply ashamed.

"Mrs. Vance... we couldn't reach him," the head of security stammered. "His assistant said he flew Ms. Bennett to Switzerland to consult with a world-renowned obstetrician about the baby's health. He turned off his private phone."

Grandma Eleanor, who insisted on staying at the estate in her wheelchair, looked at me with a gaze of agonizing shame.

She had called him dozens of times, but every call went straight to voicemail. In a fit of rage, she hurled her phone against the marble wall, smashing it to pieces.

"Absolutely lawless!" she roared, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks. "To miss his own children's funeral for a homewrecking whore! The Vance bloodline should never have birthed such a beast!"

She wheeled herself over to me, took my cold hands, and wept. "Serena, our entire family has failed you. I failed to discipline Julian. I let him turn into this monster. I am so, so sorry."

I didn't react, my gaze locked on the urns. "It's okay, Grandma. It's not your fault."

"Now," I said, "I just want to take my babies and leave."

It wasn't until the third night that Julian finally appeared.

He strolled leisurely into the grand living room with Chloe on his arm. Dressed in designer resort wear, they were tanned and relaxed. They didn't even glance at the altar.

Wrapped up in their own little world, they completely failed to notice me kneeling in the shadows of the floral arrangements.

Chloe pressed her manicured hand against Julian's chest, lightly tracing his collarbone, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "Baby, this room is so big and spooky. I've never done it in a place like this before... it makes me kind of want you."

Julian chuckled softly, a hint of doting in his voice, and pulled her close by the waist. "Whatever my good girl wants, she gets. Right here on this rug."

Their eyes filled with lust, they started kissing passionately, their moans echoing through the cavernous room.

Right in front of my children's memorial.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted the warm, coppery tang of my own blood. My nails dug into my palms until the skin broke.

I wanted to grab the ceremonial candle snuffer and drive it through their skulls.

Suddenly, Chloe pulled back to catch her breath and saw the altar. She shrieked, burying her face in Julian's chest. "Oh my god! Julian, look!"

Julian's head snapped up. When he saw the portraits and me kneeling in the corner, the lust in his eyes instantly morphed into blazing fury. He stormed over, towering above me.

"Serena, have you completely lost your mind?!" he roared. "Faking phone calls wasn't enough, and now you drag my grandmother into this sick farce? Have I been too lenient with you?!"

He looked around, staring at the solemn memorial with utter disgust.

"You really went all out! A fake funeral, hanging the kids' pictures? Are you trying to curse this house?! If you scare Chloe into losing our baby, I will make you pay with your life!"

I looked up at the man I had loved for ten years. There was nothing left in my chest but endless hatred.

"I'm not acting, Julian," my voice was dead. "Believe whatever you want."

My defiance seemed to trigger something dark inside him. His face twisted, and without warning, he kicked me squarely in the chest.

The force threw me backward, my ribs cracking as I slammed into the hardwood floor.

"How dare you talk back?!" Julian bellowed. "Since you're so unrepentant and clearly unfit to be a mother, bring the twins here immediately! Have them acknowledge Chloe as their new mother!"

"If I don't teach you a lesson today, you'll never learn to know your place!"

A dull, suffocating pain radiated from my chest. But I didn't make a sound. I absolutely would not give him the satisfaction.

Seeing me silent and expressionless, Julian became convinced I was still putting on an act.

He sneered. "Bring me the pliers."

His private bodyguards hesitated for a second, but Julian's glare commanded absolute obedience. Two men pinned me to the floor. Another handed Julian a heavy pair of metal pliers.

"I'm going to expose your lies right here and now," Julian said softly.

The agony was blinding. A sickening crunch echoed in my skull as he ruthlessly yanked out two of my back teeth.

Blood poured from my mouth, making me choke and gag.

Through the blood and tears of pain, my gaze locked onto him, burning with a demonic hatred.

"They're dead," I mumbled, blood running down my chin. "Their ashes are in the urns right behind you. Are you satisfied now, you monster?"

Julian froze.

For a split second, a flash of panic crossed his eyes.

But then, he let out a harsh bark of laughter.

"Serena, you truly have no bottom line. First a fake funeral, and now fake ashes?"

"I never realized you were so malicious. Do you really think I don't know what you're up to? You're terrified that Chloe's baby will threaten you and the twins' inheritance. So you orchestrated this disgusting stunt!"

He threw the bloody pliers onto the floor. "Listen to me loud and clear. I don't need your family's backing anymore. Stop acting like you're still the boss. Vance Enterprises is mine now."

He turned around, wrapped an arm around Chloe, and started to walk away.

Watching his retreating back, my thoughts drifted to the past.

When I was twenty, my parents died in a plane crash. I had to drop out of Stanford to take over the Sterling family's business empire.

I spent my days sparring with ruthless executives, negotiating deals while pushing through sickness, bearing the weight of thousands of employees on my shoulders.

When it came time to marry, I had plenty of aristocratic heirs to choose from. But I chose Julian.

He was brilliant but came from a poor background, born into a declining family.

Back then, he was gentle and humble, and he looked at me like I was his entire world. I handed my entire empire over to him and stepped into the background, letting him shine and regain his dignity.

Then Chloe returned from Europe. His "first love."

The first time he hired her, he hid it from me.

Then came the second lie, the third lie, until my marriage was nothing but an empty shell. Every time I looked at Liam and Lily, I had to swallow my pride, just to keep their family intact.

But I never in my wildest dreams imagined he would kill them for her.

In just six years, the man who had sworn to protect me turned me into an accessory and completely suffocated my soul.

I loved the wrong man. And the price I paid was my children's lives.

Just as they reached the living room doors, Chloe suddenly gasped, clutching her slightly swelling belly with an exaggerated look of pain on her face.

"Julian! Oh, it hurts!" she whimpered. "The vibe in this room... it's so gloomy, it's making the baby uncomfortable. He's kicking... I think Serena's curse is hurting him!"

Julian went pale with panic. As her knees buckled, he caught her. "Don't be scared, baby. I'm right here. I'll destroy this entire room right now."

I was horrified, my eyes widening.

Spitting out a mouthful of blood, I screamed, "Julian! Don't you dare!"

He didn't even look at me, just roared at his security detail, "Tear it down! Smash everything to pieces!"

The men in suits pulled baseball bats and crowbars from the security armory.

"No! Stop!" I shrieked, dragging my broken body across the floor. "Please! Stop it!"

Wood splintered, glass shattered, and the smiling portraits of my children were ripped from the walls and trampled underfoot. The noise was deafening, like a violent symphony of destruction.

I threw away all my pride and dignity. The former heir to the Sterling family knelt on the floor, clinging to Julian's expensive Italian leather shoes, weeping tears of blood.

"Please, make them stop! I know I was wrong! Julian, I give up! I don't want the title of Mrs. Vance! All the money, all the shares, you can have it all! Please, just don't touch my babies' altar anymore!"

My heart-rending cries would have drawn pity from a demon, but Julian just looked down at me with cold indifference.

He kicked me away, breaking my grip, and pointed at the two mahogany boxes on the main pedestal. "Bring me the trash she put in those boxes."

A bodyguard grabbed the urns and brought them over.

I shook my head frantically, screaming at the top of my lungs, "No! No! God, please no!"

I tried to lunge forward, but a heavy boot pressed down on my spine, pinning me firmly to the floor. I could only watch helplessly as Julian handed the urns to Chloe.

She opened the lid to Liam's urn and waved a hand in front of her nose, feigning disgust.

"Ew, baby, it stinks. It's just full of dirty gray powder. Serena, are you sick in the head? Using this filthy stuff to fake your kids' deaths? I never wanted to compete with you, why are you doing this to me?"

Then, she looked me dead in the eye, a wicked, triumphant smirk playing on her lips.

She tilted her hands, and the urns slipped through her fingers.

Crash.

The mahogany slammed into the marble floor, shattering into pieces. The pale, ashen remains of my six-year-old babies exploded into a cloud of dust, scattering across the floor and mixing with the dirt from the bodyguards' shoes.

"Oops," Chloe said, covering her mouth with her hand in mock surprise. "My bad. The baby just kicked too hard, and I dropped it. I'm so clumsy."

Lying on the floor, watching my children's remains be desecrated, the last shred of my humanity completely shattered. The grief vanished, replaced by an all-consuming, apocalyptic hatred.

"Liam! Lily!" I roared, struggling frantically to break free from the men holding me down, my eyes almost bleeding from the pressure. "I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill both of you!"

Julian stepped forward and delivered a vicious backhand slap to my face. The crack echoed through the room.

"Shut your filthy mouth!" he snarled. "It's just fireplace ash! If you scare the baby in Chloe's belly, I'll make you wish you were dead!"

My cheek slammed into the ground. Half my face swelled up instantly, one eye puffing shut. I lay gasping and bleeding in my children's ashes.

A cold sneer touched the corner of Chloe's mouth as she leaned closer to Julian. "Julian, darling... do you think Serena's going to curse my pregnancy? What if her evil energy makes our baby come out deformed? If anything happens to him, I'll kill myself."

Julian stroked her hair. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I know exactly how to fix her attitude. Take her down to the vivarium. Let her spend the night with my collection."

The bodyguards hauled me up by my hair.

I stopped fighting. They dragged me like a ragdoll down the winding stone stairs into the estate's subterranean level, straight into Julian's climate-controlled vault, where he kept his illegal collection of rare, highly venomous spiders and scorpions.

They threw me into the dark glass enclosure and locked the heavy steel door.

Within minutes, I felt them. Hundreds of tiny, sharp legs skittering across my bare arms, legs, and face. Then came the stingers.

It was a localized, blinding agony that spread like wildfire through my entire nervous system. I collapsed to the floor, screaming until my voice gave out.

But even as the neurotoxins ravaged my body, the physical pain couldn't touch the void deep within my soul.

Was this how my babies felt?

I thought deliriously, tears mixing with the blood on my face.

When the coyotes attacked? When the vultures pecked at them? Were they crying for Mommy, too?

My blood seeped into the floorboards. My agonized screams echoed through the ventilation shafts, reaching upstairs.

Sitting in the living room, Julian heard the screams.

An inexplicable wave of unease suddenly gripped his chest.

For a fleeting moment, he considered telling the guards to let me out.

But Chloe sensed his hesitation. She sighed pitifully. "Julian... if my foster parents hadn't forced me to move to Europe six years ago, we'd be married by now. We'd have our own cute little kids running around. And instead, I'm treated like some dirty secret, getting bullied by your wife."

The tactic worked instantly.

The flicker of pity in Julian's eyes was replaced by cold resolve. He pulled her into his arms. "I know, baby. I'm sorry. Don't let that crazy woman ruin your night. Let's go home."

Before leaving the estate, he instructed the head of security, "Keep her in there until dawn. Tomorrow, drag her and the kids to my corporate office. Make them kneel and apologize to Chloe."

I was left in the dark.

It wasn't until 3 A.M. that Grandma Eleanor forced the doors open, wielding a shotgun and threatening the security staff.

By the time they pulled me out, I could barely breathe, covered head to toe in welts and blood.

Eleanor held me and wept, immediately calling her private medical team to administer antivenom.

Once I was finally stabilized, I didn't rest. Refusing painkillers, I dragged my battered body back to the living room.

With bloody fingers, I crawled across the floor, meticulously sweeping up every speck of ash, every splinter of wood, doing my absolute best to separate them from the dirt.

I placed my babies into a temporary container, held them tightly to my chest, and walked out of the Vance estate without looking back, leaving it behind forever.

That night, using the secret offshore accounts I had maintained since my days as CEO of the Sterling Group, I legally erased my identity.

I signed the divorce papers, left them on the kitchen island of our penthouse, and boarded an untraceable private jet.

The next afternoon, Julian was sitting in his spacious corner office, gently massaging Chloe's swollen feet as she lounged on his leather sofa.

He was waiting for me and the twins to show up and beg for his forgiveness.

However, the heavy office doors suddenly burst open.

His executive assistant rushed in, pale and sweating profusely.

"Mr. Vance! Sir, it's a disaster. Mrs. Vance has completely vanished! Her tracker is offline, and her accounts have been closed!"

Julian's hands froze, a dark expression washing over his face. "What the hell? If she ran off, what about the kids? Who's taking care of them?"

The assistant swallowed hard, his whole body trembling.

"Sir... Liam and Lily... they're dead."