Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 59: Chapter 59
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"It looks like initials of a name?"
"Huh? But Miss Victoria's initials are VH, right? Who is PR?"
My heart jolted violently.
Victoria heard it too. Originally full of anticipation, she suddenly looked up at the sky, her expression as if she'd been slapped.
I watched her face change bit by bit.
She realized it too—PR wasn't her name.
And almost the moment she looked at me, my heartbeat skipped half a beat.
PR—Paisley Reynolds.
Me.
Victoria's gaze locked onto me deadly, her smile completely frozen, with shock, suspicion, and humiliated anger mixed together.
Then someone else reacted:
"PR is Paisley Reynolds! The initials of the former Mrs. Cavendish!"
With this shout, the entire crowd's gaze turned toward me in unison.
My whole body stiffened.
It's no exaggeration to say I broke out in a cold sweat.
I had become the center of everyone's attention.
"So... these fireworks aren't for Victoria? They're for Paisley?"
"Could the proposal be for her?"
Those voices—amazement, confusion, questioning—intertwined.
Before I could react, I heard Victoria's trembling voice: "Impossible, this must be a mistake... Arnold, isn't this a mistake?"
Arnold's tone was indifferent: "These fireworks weren't prepared by me."
Victoria's expression instantly collapsed. She stared deadly at Arnold, lips trembling, "What... what?"
"It wasn't you... then the proposal..."
Her voice was hollow.
The surrounding discussions engulfed her like a tide.
Victoria looked like she'd been publicly stripped of face, pale and stiff, standing there like a puppet.
But standing in the crowd, my heart was bleeding.
That "I love you, Paisley"—who was behind this mischief? I could easily guess.
Rowan, Callum, Elodie.
Three little rascals.
I must have been crazy to bring them out.
You say you love me, just say it in my ear—why burn my money!
I watched helplessly as those fireworks burst one after another.
That was my money! My life's blood!
Others were moved to tears watching fireworks; I was heartbroken watching money fly away.
Finally the fireworks ended. I had no mood to stay and planned to escape quickly.
But Victoria caught up with me.
"Paisley!"
Just as I turned around, she swung her hand to slap me.
Fortunately I dodged quickly.
"Are you crazy?" I frowned.
Victoria trembled with anger, pointing at me, "Did you do this? Tonight's events—did you deliberately arrange this to embarrass Arnold and me?"
I laughed coldly, "Don't think everyone is as malicious as you."
"You still won't admit it? Arnold's fireworks for me couldn't be set off, but your name appeared in the sky. How do you explain that?"
Seeing her red-faced and thick-necked appearance, I lost patience, "I don't need to explain to you."
"You bit—" she suddenly raised her hand.
A sharp sound rang out—not a slap, but Arnold grabbing her wrist.
Both she and I froze.
Victoria looked at him with red eyes, "Arnold..."
Arnold looked at her indifferently, "You're tonight's party host. Don't make a scene."
"But tonight... everything is ruined. Everyone is laughing at me!"
"I need to talk to Paisley. Go rest first. I'll compensate you for tonight."
Victoria was furious. She bit her lip, glared at me viciously, finally shook off Arnold's hand and ran away.
Just as I was about to leave, Arnold also grabbed my wrist and dragged me into a lounge.
"Let go of me. What are you doing?"
He closed the door, his dark eyes deep, staring at me intently.
"I should ask you that—Paisley, what exactly are you trying to do tonight?"
"Huh? But Miss Victoria's initials are VH, right? Who is PR?"
My heart jolted violently.
Victoria heard it too. Originally full of anticipation, she suddenly looked up at the sky, her expression as if she'd been slapped.
I watched her face change bit by bit.
She realized it too—PR wasn't her name.
And almost the moment she looked at me, my heartbeat skipped half a beat.
PR—Paisley Reynolds.
Me.
Victoria's gaze locked onto me deadly, her smile completely frozen, with shock, suspicion, and humiliated anger mixed together.
Then someone else reacted:
"PR is Paisley Reynolds! The initials of the former Mrs. Cavendish!"
With this shout, the entire crowd's gaze turned toward me in unison.
My whole body stiffened.
It's no exaggeration to say I broke out in a cold sweat.
I had become the center of everyone's attention.
"So... these fireworks aren't for Victoria? They're for Paisley?"
"Could the proposal be for her?"
Those voices—amazement, confusion, questioning—intertwined.
Before I could react, I heard Victoria's trembling voice: "Impossible, this must be a mistake... Arnold, isn't this a mistake?"
Arnold's tone was indifferent: "These fireworks weren't prepared by me."
Victoria's expression instantly collapsed. She stared deadly at Arnold, lips trembling, "What... what?"
"It wasn't you... then the proposal..."
Her voice was hollow.
The surrounding discussions engulfed her like a tide.
Victoria looked like she'd been publicly stripped of face, pale and stiff, standing there like a puppet.
But standing in the crowd, my heart was bleeding.
That "I love you, Paisley"—who was behind this mischief? I could easily guess.
Rowan, Callum, Elodie.
Three little rascals.
I must have been crazy to bring them out.
You say you love me, just say it in my ear—why burn my money!
I watched helplessly as those fireworks burst one after another.
That was my money! My life's blood!
Others were moved to tears watching fireworks; I was heartbroken watching money fly away.
Finally the fireworks ended. I had no mood to stay and planned to escape quickly.
But Victoria caught up with me.
"Paisley!"
Just as I turned around, she swung her hand to slap me.
Fortunately I dodged quickly.
"Are you crazy?" I frowned.
Victoria trembled with anger, pointing at me, "Did you do this? Tonight's events—did you deliberately arrange this to embarrass Arnold and me?"
I laughed coldly, "Don't think everyone is as malicious as you."
"You still won't admit it? Arnold's fireworks for me couldn't be set off, but your name appeared in the sky. How do you explain that?"
Seeing her red-faced and thick-necked appearance, I lost patience, "I don't need to explain to you."
"You bit—" she suddenly raised her hand.
A sharp sound rang out—not a slap, but Arnold grabbing her wrist.
Both she and I froze.
Victoria looked at him with red eyes, "Arnold..."
Arnold looked at her indifferently, "You're tonight's party host. Don't make a scene."
"But tonight... everything is ruined. Everyone is laughing at me!"
"I need to talk to Paisley. Go rest first. I'll compensate you for tonight."
Victoria was furious. She bit her lip, glared at me viciously, finally shook off Arnold's hand and ran away.
Just as I was about to leave, Arnold also grabbed my wrist and dragged me into a lounge.
"Let go of me. What are you doing?"
He closed the door, his dark eyes deep, staring at me intently.
"I should ask you that—Paisley, what exactly are you trying to do tonight?"
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 59. Continue reading Chapter 60 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.