Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 7: Chapter 7
You are reading Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness, Chapter 7: Chapter 7. Read more chapters of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness.
Third Person Perspective
Five years later.
England's top auction house.
In the spacious hall, celebrities gathered.
At the auction podium, the auctioneer wore a white evening gown, her hair elegantly upswept, with a silver mask covering her face. Though her features were hidden, her every gesture was breathtakingly beautiful.
She confidently and gracefully introduced the items on display, while bidders below competed eagerly.
A pair of bright eyes swept across the audience below as she gripped the gavel, commanding the entire scene.
On the second floor, Arnold sat there, glancing over. "The person grandfather insists on meeting is her?"
His assistant handed over some documents. "Yes, her name is Lacey. She started working here five years ago as an auctioneer. Her first auction famously sold a painting with a starting bid of one million for a sky-high sixty million—sixty times the reserve price. She became famous with a single hammer strike."
Arnold narrowed his eyes. "She always appears in a mask?"
The assistant thought for a moment. "Yes, I heard someone once offered ten million for her to remove her mask, but she refused. People say she must be shockingly ugly to refuse to show her face."
Arnold extinguished his cigarette butt, watching quietly. "Beautiful eyes."
With such beautiful eyes, how could she be shockingly ugly?
And those eyes reminded him of someone.
Who?
Paisley.
That woman who, five years ago, left behind divorce papers, silently aborted his child and disappeared without a trace.
"Bring her to see me."
Arnold stood up and took a few steps before stopping.
"Five years now—still no trace of Paisley?"
His assistant trembled with fear.
They say people can't just vanish into thin air.
But their madam had truly vanished without a trace for five years.
Arnold rubbed his temples. "Keep looking."
That woman was ruthless—divorce, aborting his child, blocking and deleting all his contact information.
Probably no one knew that the mighty CEO of Cavendish Group had been abandoned with divorce papers, and no one knew he'd been searching for the woman who abandoned him for five years.
Arnold left.
Assistant Neil stood there breaking into a cold sweat. He'd searched everywhere possible without finding a single clue.
After five years of fruitless searching, continuing was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Neil muttered miserably to himself, "Madam, where on earth are you?"
Paisley's Perspective
After the auction ended, I gracefully bowed slightly to the audience before turning to leave.
Five years ago, I came to England, joined this auction house, and changed my name to Lacey. To avoid trouble, I'd always worn a mask.
I walked into my office where a soft, adorable little pink bundle ran over on short legs and hugged my leg tightly, calling out sweetly, "Mommy!"
I removed my mask, revealing my face—the face I no longer wanted familiar people to see.
I bent down to pick up Elodie, kissing her chubby cheek. "Has Elodie been waiting long? Where are your brothers?"
The little one looked up and pouted. "Hmph, the brothers went out to play."
"They didn't take Elodie?"
"They said it was a boys' game and wouldn't take me."
I sighed helplessly.
These two boys didn't even try to hide ditching their sister.
Five years ago, I had intended to abort the children. But when I actually reached the operating room door, my heart softened and I backed out.
That winter, I gave birth to three babies in England—two boys and one girl.
The eldest was Rowan, steady and sensible; the second was Callum, mischievous and playful; the youngest was Elodie, a clingy little sweetheart.
Looking at Elodie in my arms, I was grateful I hadn't hardened my heart that day.
"Mommy, guess who Elodie and her brothers saw today?"
"Who?"
"The bad daddy!"
My heart jolted. I didn't hear clearly. "Elodie, what did you say?"
Five years later.
England's top auction house.
In the spacious hall, celebrities gathered.
At the auction podium, the auctioneer wore a white evening gown, her hair elegantly upswept, with a silver mask covering her face. Though her features were hidden, her every gesture was breathtakingly beautiful.
She confidently and gracefully introduced the items on display, while bidders below competed eagerly.
A pair of bright eyes swept across the audience below as she gripped the gavel, commanding the entire scene.
On the second floor, Arnold sat there, glancing over. "The person grandfather insists on meeting is her?"
His assistant handed over some documents. "Yes, her name is Lacey. She started working here five years ago as an auctioneer. Her first auction famously sold a painting with a starting bid of one million for a sky-high sixty million—sixty times the reserve price. She became famous with a single hammer strike."
Arnold narrowed his eyes. "She always appears in a mask?"
The assistant thought for a moment. "Yes, I heard someone once offered ten million for her to remove her mask, but she refused. People say she must be shockingly ugly to refuse to show her face."
Arnold extinguished his cigarette butt, watching quietly. "Beautiful eyes."
With such beautiful eyes, how could she be shockingly ugly?
And those eyes reminded him of someone.
Who?
Paisley.
That woman who, five years ago, left behind divorce papers, silently aborted his child and disappeared without a trace.
"Bring her to see me."
Arnold stood up and took a few steps before stopping.
"Five years now—still no trace of Paisley?"
His assistant trembled with fear.
They say people can't just vanish into thin air.
But their madam had truly vanished without a trace for five years.
Arnold rubbed his temples. "Keep looking."
That woman was ruthless—divorce, aborting his child, blocking and deleting all his contact information.
Probably no one knew that the mighty CEO of Cavendish Group had been abandoned with divorce papers, and no one knew he'd been searching for the woman who abandoned him for five years.
Arnold left.
Assistant Neil stood there breaking into a cold sweat. He'd searched everywhere possible without finding a single clue.
After five years of fruitless searching, continuing was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
Neil muttered miserably to himself, "Madam, where on earth are you?"
Paisley's Perspective
After the auction ended, I gracefully bowed slightly to the audience before turning to leave.
Five years ago, I came to England, joined this auction house, and changed my name to Lacey. To avoid trouble, I'd always worn a mask.
I walked into my office where a soft, adorable little pink bundle ran over on short legs and hugged my leg tightly, calling out sweetly, "Mommy!"
I removed my mask, revealing my face—the face I no longer wanted familiar people to see.
I bent down to pick up Elodie, kissing her chubby cheek. "Has Elodie been waiting long? Where are your brothers?"
The little one looked up and pouted. "Hmph, the brothers went out to play."
"They didn't take Elodie?"
"They said it was a boys' game and wouldn't take me."
I sighed helplessly.
These two boys didn't even try to hide ditching their sister.
Five years ago, I had intended to abort the children. But when I actually reached the operating room door, my heart softened and I backed out.
That winter, I gave birth to three babies in England—two boys and one girl.
The eldest was Rowan, steady and sensible; the second was Callum, mischievous and playful; the youngest was Elodie, a clingy little sweetheart.
Looking at Elodie in my arms, I was grateful I hadn't hardened my heart that day.
"Mommy, guess who Elodie and her brothers saw today?"
"Who?"
"The bad daddy!"
My heart jolted. I didn't hear clearly. "Elodie, what did you say?"
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 7. Continue reading Chapter 8 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.