Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

Victoria's expression grew increasingly ugly as she listened.
Someone he wanted to protect?
"Paisley?"
When this incident occurred, Victoria's first suspect was her.
Paisley had always held a grudge about what happened years ago, and today at the Cavendish house she'd publicly clashed with her again—it would be hard not to suspect her.
But she also knew clearly that Paisley had indeed stayed at the Cavendish house for dinner the entire time, with no opportunity to act.
However, now hearing Raymond mention "someone Arnold wants to protect," the first person she thought of was still Paisley.
"That bitch, I knew it was her!" Victoria gritted her teeth.
Raymond's gaze was dark, his tone calm but unquestionable: "Now that Paisley is back, and Arnold still hasn't divorced her, what do you plan to do?"
"I..." Victoria was speechless.
For five years she'd never managed to marry Arnold, hadn't even gotten into his bed, and the Hayes family had long been dissatisfied with her, putting tremendous pressure on her.
She clenched her teeth, "Dad, I'll eliminate Paisley, this stumbling block. Since they won't divorce voluntarily, I'll make Arnold disgusted with her and divorce her himself."
Raymond nodded with satisfaction: "Now that's my Hayes family daughter."
Victoria's gaze grew increasingly sinister.
Paisley, just wait and see. I won't let you succeed again.
Arnold instructed Neil to prepare ten million pounds as compensation for Victoria's "reputation damage" this time, and directed the technical team to delete the trending topic and remove all related videos.
After handling all this, he originally wanted to return to his private villa.
But thinking that Elodie was still at the manor, he instructed the driver to turn around and head toward that familiar mansion.
Entering the old house, as he went upstairs he passed Elodie's room and faintly heard small sounds from inside.
He stopped, stepped back, and gently pushed open the door that wasn't fully closed.
On the small bed, a little lump bulged under the covers, glowing with weak light. Elodie was hiding inside, muttering something quietly.
Arnold moved closer and heard her sweet voice saying:
"Mommy, tell another story... Elodie wants to hear more..."
"Can you tell 'Sleeping Beauty'? No no no, how about 'Rapunzel'... Elodie likes her hair..."
Her voice was soft, but Arnold heard clearly.
He cleared his throat lightly, "Elodie, you're not asleep yet?"
The sound from under the covers immediately stopped, the light dimmed, and the small lump froze motionless.
Arnold walked in, turned on the nightlight, his tone calm: "Asleep?"
A tiny voice came from under the covers, "...asleep."
The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, then pressed down again.
"Since you're asleep, then don't talk."
"Okay."
A few seconds later, there was a "click" of the door closing from the doorway.
Elodie waited in the covers for a while, then slowly lifted the blanket and peeked her little head out—only to look up and meet Arnold's eyes as he stood in the room.
She jumped all over, laughing awkwardly: "Hehe..."
Arnold glanced at his watch, raising an eyebrow: "Midnight, didn't you say you were sleepy at eight?"
Elodie hugged her little face, pouting: "Mommy always used to hold me while sleeping."
"So?"
"Without Mommy's hug, Elodie can't sleep..."
"I'll hire a nanny for you then."
Elodie seriously tilted her head: "When you can't sleep, do you also find a nanny to hug you?"
Arnold: "..."
This child's questions were simply inexplicable.
"What do you want then?"
"Uncle, can you sing a song for Elodie?"
Her big eyes sparkled as she looked at him expectantly.
Arnold was about to refuse, but seeing her expression, the words wouldn't come out.
"What do you want to hear?"
"Elodie wants to hear 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.'"
"Don't know it."
"Then 'You Are My Sunshine'?"
"Don't know that either."
"...You must know 'Baa Baa Black Sheep' at least?"
Arnold looked coldly indifferent: "Never heard of it."
Elodie's mouth fell open in disbelief: "You don't even know 'Baa Baa Black Sheep'? Did you have no childhood?"
Arnold: "..."
Where did this sharp-tongued little girl come from?
Elodie lay back on the bed looking disappointed, her little mouth pouting high as she thought: "Don't know anything... no wonder Mommy doesn't want you."
Arnold was left speechless, walked to the door about to leave, but stopped again.
It was too late—a four or five-year-old child not being able to sleep was indeed a problem.
He turned back, sighed, took out his phone from his pocket, and silently searched for the songs she'd mentioned.
After a while, he moved a chair to sit beside the bed, saying in a deep voice: "I can sing one song, but you have to tell me your mother's name. A trade, deal?"
His tone was like negotiating with clients in a conference room.
Elodie's eyes lit up: "Really? Just tell uncle Mommy's name and I can hear you sing?"
"Mm."
"Deal!"
She lay down properly on the bed, closed her eyes, and said obediently: "Then uncle sing. When I wake up tomorrow, I'll tell you."
Arnold stared at her little face, not knowing what scheme she was plotting now.
He looked at the lyrics on his phone, frowned, took a breath, and slowly began:
"Twinkle, twinkle, little star... how I wonder what you are..."
His voice was deep and magnetic. Though the melody was somewhat stiff, coming from his mouth it was unexpectedly pleasant.
After hearing just a few lines, Elodie gradually quieted down, her breathing becoming steady.
Arnold watched her fall into deep sleep, gently tucked her in, and raised the air conditioning temperature a few degrees.
Looking at her sleeping face, his thoughts drifted back to the child that was terminated five years ago.
He'd fantasized countless times—if that child had lived, would it look like this now?
If it were a little girl like Paisley, well-behaved and understanding... how complete his life would be?
Arnold stood up, walked out of the room, took out his phone and made a call.
An hour later, several doctors quietly came to the room, carefully took a few strands of hair from Elodie's head, and sealed them in bags.
They came downstairs and stood beside him.
"Mr. Cavendish, the samples have been collected."
Arnold stood by the window, exhaling smoke, his eyes deep and cold.
"Get me the results as soon as possible."