I Sterilized Myself for Him, Then Found His Twins - Chapter 9: Chapter 9
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The scandal exploded across Washington like a powder keg, sending Ceppetelli Co. into freefall. Rivals poured gasoline on the fire, amplifying the salacious details—how the despicable Mr. Ceppetelli had fathered a love child while publicly blaming his wife's supposed infertility.
At first, the company elders raged like stormclouds, cursing Brent's name to high heaven until their fury literally hospitalized them. By the time Brent emerged from the wreckage, the corporate empire had already crumbled to dust.
But the bastard didn't care. He dumped his remaining shares on the board like yesterday's trash and vanished—hellbent on finding his wife. Every second counted now; a full month had slipped through his fingers. If he didn't track her down soon, she might be gone forever.
Thirty days later, a haggard Brent stood trembling on the windswept plains of the northwest, looking like a man who'd crossed the desert without water.
CAMRYN'S POV
I was elbows-deep in blueprints with the engineering team, my hard hat casting shadows across the schematics, when he appeared in the doorway. His eyes locked onto me like I was the last oasis on earth. After an eternity of silence, his voice cracked: "Cammie! God, I've missed you so damn much!"
Tears carved canyons down his weathered face as the engineers made themselves scarce. I studied Brent—the sharp-edged arrogance had eroded away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
"You need something? I'm swamped here." My voice could've frozen hell over.
His bloodshot eyes pleaded as he choked out, "That night with Galvin... Christ, I was wrong. Should never have laid hands on you. Should've trusted you."
A humorless laugh escaped me. "Water under the bridge."
He flinched like I'd struck him. "Cammie, she played me too! Had no clue Shalane was capable of—Galvin and Devin aren't even mine! The bitch lied through her—"
His words dissolved into shoulder-shaking sobs, hands clawing at his face like he could tear the pain away.
I nearly rolled my eyes. Did he expect me to play the understanding wife? When my expression didn't budge, he scrubbed at his tears and grabbed my wrist. "I know I gutted you, but we can fix this! Take all my shares—every last one. Remember how you dreamed of snow-capped mountains? Switzerland tomorrow! Everest if you want! I've washed my hands of the company—where you go, I go. And if you want a baby, we'll make one, just—"
The desperate promises tumbled out as he searched my face for any flicker of hope.
I let him dangle a moment before tapping my phone. Minutes later, pigtails bounced into view as a grinning girl brandished a pastry. "Mommy! Uncle Pete's cake! Saved you the best part!"
I took a theatrical bite and mussed her hair. Brent turned to stone. "Sh-she... whose kid is—how—?"
My smirk could've cut glass. "Meet my daughter Dolly."
Flashback to my first week here—out for skewers with the crew when I spotted this feral little shadow in rags, equal parts starving and terrified. Offered two sticks; she snatched them like a alley cat and bolted.
When she crept back, I had the cook pour steaming chicken soup into her trembling hands. She inhaled it like her last meal. That's when I learned about northwest ghost girls—discarded like trash by their own blood.
Couldn't leave her to that fate. So Dolly came home with me to the job site, and I gave her something no one else had—a name.
At first, the company elders raged like stormclouds, cursing Brent's name to high heaven until their fury literally hospitalized them. By the time Brent emerged from the wreckage, the corporate empire had already crumbled to dust.
But the bastard didn't care. He dumped his remaining shares on the board like yesterday's trash and vanished—hellbent on finding his wife. Every second counted now; a full month had slipped through his fingers. If he didn't track her down soon, she might be gone forever.
Thirty days later, a haggard Brent stood trembling on the windswept plains of the northwest, looking like a man who'd crossed the desert without water.
CAMRYN'S POV
I was elbows-deep in blueprints with the engineering team, my hard hat casting shadows across the schematics, when he appeared in the doorway. His eyes locked onto me like I was the last oasis on earth. After an eternity of silence, his voice cracked: "Cammie! God, I've missed you so damn much!"
Tears carved canyons down his weathered face as the engineers made themselves scarce. I studied Brent—the sharp-edged arrogance had eroded away, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.
"You need something? I'm swamped here." My voice could've frozen hell over.
His bloodshot eyes pleaded as he choked out, "That night with Galvin... Christ, I was wrong. Should never have laid hands on you. Should've trusted you."
A humorless laugh escaped me. "Water under the bridge."
He flinched like I'd struck him. "Cammie, she played me too! Had no clue Shalane was capable of—Galvin and Devin aren't even mine! The bitch lied through her—"
His words dissolved into shoulder-shaking sobs, hands clawing at his face like he could tear the pain away.
I nearly rolled my eyes. Did he expect me to play the understanding wife? When my expression didn't budge, he scrubbed at his tears and grabbed my wrist. "I know I gutted you, but we can fix this! Take all my shares—every last one. Remember how you dreamed of snow-capped mountains? Switzerland tomorrow! Everest if you want! I've washed my hands of the company—where you go, I go. And if you want a baby, we'll make one, just—"
The desperate promises tumbled out as he searched my face for any flicker of hope.
I let him dangle a moment before tapping my phone. Minutes later, pigtails bounced into view as a grinning girl brandished a pastry. "Mommy! Uncle Pete's cake! Saved you the best part!"
I took a theatrical bite and mussed her hair. Brent turned to stone. "Sh-she... whose kid is—how—?"
My smirk could've cut glass. "Meet my daughter Dolly."
Flashback to my first week here—out for skewers with the crew when I spotted this feral little shadow in rags, equal parts starving and terrified. Offered two sticks; she snatched them like a alley cat and bolted.
When she crept back, I had the cook pour steaming chicken soup into her trembling hands. She inhaled it like her last meal. That's when I learned about northwest ghost girls—discarded like trash by their own blood.
Couldn't leave her to that fate. So Dolly came home with me to the job site, and I gave her something no one else had—a name.
End of I Sterilized Myself for Him, Then Found His Twins Chapter 9. Continue reading Chapter 10 or return to I Sterilized Myself for Him, Then Found His Twins book page.