Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 27: Chapter 27
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Hearing Grandpa's question, I felt my chest tighten.
I shook my head and looked at him seriously: "Grandpa, when you arranged for me to marry Arnold back then, it was to repay my father's kindness and to give me lifelong security. I understand that. But the problem is... Arnold doesn't love me. Continuing this marriage would be torture for both him and me."
I paused, my voice not loud but incredibly firm: "I don't want to spend my entire life with a man who doesn't love me. So, Grandpa, I'm sorry I've disappointed your good intentions back then... I cannot continue this marriage."
"You insist on divorce?" His voice wasn't heavy, but it seemed to pierce to my very core.
"Yes." I didn't hesitate.
Grandpa nodded without saying more. I knew he understood me.
He knew me too well—once I decided on something, I wouldn't look back.
"In the end, Arnold wronged you."
As he spoke, he raised his hand slightly. The old butler stepped forward again and placed another document before me.
It was a new divorce agreement.
I glanced at it, immediately becoming somewhat alert.
Grandpa cared for me—I had never doubted that. But he was Scott Cavendish, the shrewd man who had controlled countless people's destinies throughout his life. His affection couldn't be without limits.
I opened the divorce agreement.
My eyes widened instantly.
Shares, cash, villas, properties... all the compensation added up to an astronomical sum.
But when I saw the last clause—"Child custody belongs to the male party"—my heart clenched violently.
"Grandpa, what does this clause about the child... mean?"
He sighed, his eyes growing heavy.
"Paisley, the Cavendish family owes you, and Grandpa is willing to compensate you as much as possible. But there's one condition—the child must belong to the Cavendish family."
His tone was gentle, without any hint of coercion, but I knew—this wasn't negotiable.
Grandpa's affection ultimately had limits.
And Cavendish bloodline was his untouchable bottom line.
I suppressed my heartbeat, forced myself to stay calm, and looked directly at him: "Grandpa, you're joking. I already aborted the child back then. I don't have a child."
He just looked at me calmly and shook his head: "Paisley, you might be able to deceive Arnold, but you can't deceive Grandpa."
"I'm not deceiving you." I continued to maintain composure. "I really... don't have a child. So I can't sign this agreement."
He didn't get angry, just silently stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded gently: "You understand Grandpa, and Grandpa understands you. Think it over some more—you don't need to answer immediately."
I pressed my lips together and responded firmly: "Having no child IS my answer."
He seemed to have expected this, his tone relaxing: "Alright, then let's not discuss this now. You just returned today. I've instructed the kitchen to prepare your favorite dishes. Stay and have dinner with this old man."
I nodded: "Alright. Then Grandpa, I'll go out first."
"Go ahead."
Coming out of the study, I was still immersed in our conversation, my emotions churning.
I didn't know whether Grandpa was truly testing me today or had already confirmed I had children. He just wanted personal confirmation from me.
But I could only insist—no.
Walking down the corridor, I passed by a room where I could faintly hear voices inside.
"Arnold, I still think Paisley didn't abort the child back then."
It was Olivia's voice.
Her tone carried a certain certainty: "I'm also a mother. I know how difficult it would be for a mother to personally abort a seven-month fetus."
Arnold's voice was very low: "I've investigated. She's lived alone all these years."
"Did you investigate thoroughly?"
"Yes."
"Then she's truly heartless enough." Olivia gave a cold laugh, her voice filled with hatred. "Regardless, we still need to watch her. If the child really exists, it must be brought back to the Cavendish family for raising. Once you and Victoria marry, I believe Victoria is well-educated and reasonable—she'll definitely take good care of the child."
My heart tightened.
They were speculating whether I had aborted the child, but their purpose was: if I hadn't, the child must belong to them.
And they wanted Victoria to raise it?
I clenched my knuckles, nails digging deep into my palms.
Just then, I heard light running footsteps from the other end of the corridor.
"Mommy—!"
I shook my head and looked at him seriously: "Grandpa, when you arranged for me to marry Arnold back then, it was to repay my father's kindness and to give me lifelong security. I understand that. But the problem is... Arnold doesn't love me. Continuing this marriage would be torture for both him and me."
I paused, my voice not loud but incredibly firm: "I don't want to spend my entire life with a man who doesn't love me. So, Grandpa, I'm sorry I've disappointed your good intentions back then... I cannot continue this marriage."
"You insist on divorce?" His voice wasn't heavy, but it seemed to pierce to my very core.
"Yes." I didn't hesitate.
Grandpa nodded without saying more. I knew he understood me.
He knew me too well—once I decided on something, I wouldn't look back.
"In the end, Arnold wronged you."
As he spoke, he raised his hand slightly. The old butler stepped forward again and placed another document before me.
It was a new divorce agreement.
I glanced at it, immediately becoming somewhat alert.
Grandpa cared for me—I had never doubted that. But he was Scott Cavendish, the shrewd man who had controlled countless people's destinies throughout his life. His affection couldn't be without limits.
I opened the divorce agreement.
My eyes widened instantly.
Shares, cash, villas, properties... all the compensation added up to an astronomical sum.
But when I saw the last clause—"Child custody belongs to the male party"—my heart clenched violently.
"Grandpa, what does this clause about the child... mean?"
He sighed, his eyes growing heavy.
"Paisley, the Cavendish family owes you, and Grandpa is willing to compensate you as much as possible. But there's one condition—the child must belong to the Cavendish family."
His tone was gentle, without any hint of coercion, but I knew—this wasn't negotiable.
Grandpa's affection ultimately had limits.
And Cavendish bloodline was his untouchable bottom line.
I suppressed my heartbeat, forced myself to stay calm, and looked directly at him: "Grandpa, you're joking. I already aborted the child back then. I don't have a child."
He just looked at me calmly and shook his head: "Paisley, you might be able to deceive Arnold, but you can't deceive Grandpa."
"I'm not deceiving you." I continued to maintain composure. "I really... don't have a child. So I can't sign this agreement."
He didn't get angry, just silently stared at me for a few seconds, then nodded gently: "You understand Grandpa, and Grandpa understands you. Think it over some more—you don't need to answer immediately."
I pressed my lips together and responded firmly: "Having no child IS my answer."
He seemed to have expected this, his tone relaxing: "Alright, then let's not discuss this now. You just returned today. I've instructed the kitchen to prepare your favorite dishes. Stay and have dinner with this old man."
I nodded: "Alright. Then Grandpa, I'll go out first."
"Go ahead."
Coming out of the study, I was still immersed in our conversation, my emotions churning.
I didn't know whether Grandpa was truly testing me today or had already confirmed I had children. He just wanted personal confirmation from me.
But I could only insist—no.
Walking down the corridor, I passed by a room where I could faintly hear voices inside.
"Arnold, I still think Paisley didn't abort the child back then."
It was Olivia's voice.
Her tone carried a certain certainty: "I'm also a mother. I know how difficult it would be for a mother to personally abort a seven-month fetus."
Arnold's voice was very low: "I've investigated. She's lived alone all these years."
"Did you investigate thoroughly?"
"Yes."
"Then she's truly heartless enough." Olivia gave a cold laugh, her voice filled with hatred. "Regardless, we still need to watch her. If the child really exists, it must be brought back to the Cavendish family for raising. Once you and Victoria marry, I believe Victoria is well-educated and reasonable—she'll definitely take good care of the child."
My heart tightened.
They were speculating whether I had aborted the child, but their purpose was: if I hadn't, the child must belong to them.
And they wanted Victoria to raise it?
I clenched my knuckles, nails digging deep into my palms.
Just then, I heard light running footsteps from the other end of the corridor.
"Mommy—!"
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 27. Continue reading Chapter 28 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.