Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness - Chapter 8: Chapter 8
You are reading Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness, Chapter 8: Chapter 8. Read more chapters of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness.
"Elodie and her brothers saw the bad daddy! The bad daddy on TV called Arnold! He's so scary!"
Elodie waved her little hands to demonstrate.
I froze.
The name Arnold had barely appeared in my world these past years.
I once thought I could be indifferent to it.
But when my daughter spoke that name, it still hit my heart with a weight that made my chest tighten.
How could Arnold be here?
The children only knew their father was called Arnold and had only seen him on TV. They must have mistaken someone else.
"Elodie, you saw wrong. He wouldn't come here."
"But..."
Knock, knock—
Two knocks interrupted Elodie's words.
"Who is it?"
"Sister Lacey, are you busy? The manager wants you to come immediately. A VIP specifically asked for you—the manager says you must hurry."
VIP?
Our auction house had many VIPs, but few could make the manager this nervous.
I was rather curious about what kind of important client this was.
"Not busy, I'll be right there."
"But Elodie really saw the bad daddy." Elodie frowned, whispering softly. I looked down at her as she blinked her big watery eyes, asking in a soft, slightly disappointed voice, "Does Mommy have to go work again?"
I picked up Elodie and placed her on the sofa, my tone apologetic. "Elodie, baby, wait a little longer. Mommy will be back very soon, okay?"
Though Elodie wanted me to stay with her, she was always understanding.
"Okay, Elodie will wait for Mommy."
I kissed her little face and handed her a small piece of bread. "Eat some snacks. When Mommy comes back, I'll take you and your brothers for a big meal, okay?"
"Okay!"
I smiled gently at her, put on my mask, and left the office.
Behind me, I heard Elodie running to the door and peeking out curiously.
Mommy left again. So boring.
She held the bread, then put it down, tapping her phone watch. Her sweet voice rang out: "Brothers, where are you? Elodie is coming to find you."
Soon, she received a location pin and a line of text: "Underground parking garage."
In the underground parking garage, Rowan and Callum stood in front of a black Maybach.
Rowan crossed his arms, frowning at Callum. "Are you sure this is the scumbag daddy's car?"
Callum held a paintbrush, seriously creating artwork on the car body. "No mistake. I saw him get out of this car earlier."
Rowan looked down at the crooked letters and read aloud with a frown: "Wife-abandoning, child-abandoning big scumbag."
He slapped his forehead, his voice low. "Mommy always tells you to read more books, but you've been secretly playing on the computer again, haven't you? Your spelling is terrible."
"Shh—don't worry about those details." Callum waved his hand righteously, drawing an... extremely abstract pig next to the words.
Though we hadn't mentioned Arnold these past years, I knew the children hadn't forgotten completely.
They'd seen him on TV with other women at galas and in the news.
From Clara, they knew why this man couldn't be called "Daddy."
"Rowan, Callum, what are you doing?" Elodie ran over.
Callum immediately covered her mouth. "Shh, we're doing something bad. Keep quiet."
Elodie nodded, covering her mouth tightly, then looked up curiously at the big letters. "Callum, you wrote the words wrong."
Callum scratched his head. "...Not important, not important."
Rowan took Elodie's hand and asked, "Hasn't Mommy come back yet?"
"Mommy was called to the manager uncle's office."
—
I pushed open the manager's office door. As soon as I entered, the manager saw me and waved me over. "Lacey, come quickly. This is Mrs. Cavendish. Mrs. Cavendish, this is the auctioneer Lacey you were looking for."
That familiar address sent a jolt through my heart.
Years ago, I’d been called Mrs. Cavendish countless times—
So then, who was this Mrs. Cavendish standing before me now?
Elodie waved her little hands to demonstrate.
I froze.
The name Arnold had barely appeared in my world these past years.
I once thought I could be indifferent to it.
But when my daughter spoke that name, it still hit my heart with a weight that made my chest tighten.
How could Arnold be here?
The children only knew their father was called Arnold and had only seen him on TV. They must have mistaken someone else.
"Elodie, you saw wrong. He wouldn't come here."
"But..."
Knock, knock—
Two knocks interrupted Elodie's words.
"Who is it?"
"Sister Lacey, are you busy? The manager wants you to come immediately. A VIP specifically asked for you—the manager says you must hurry."
VIP?
Our auction house had many VIPs, but few could make the manager this nervous.
I was rather curious about what kind of important client this was.
"Not busy, I'll be right there."
"But Elodie really saw the bad daddy." Elodie frowned, whispering softly. I looked down at her as she blinked her big watery eyes, asking in a soft, slightly disappointed voice, "Does Mommy have to go work again?"
I picked up Elodie and placed her on the sofa, my tone apologetic. "Elodie, baby, wait a little longer. Mommy will be back very soon, okay?"
Though Elodie wanted me to stay with her, she was always understanding.
"Okay, Elodie will wait for Mommy."
I kissed her little face and handed her a small piece of bread. "Eat some snacks. When Mommy comes back, I'll take you and your brothers for a big meal, okay?"
"Okay!"
I smiled gently at her, put on my mask, and left the office.
Behind me, I heard Elodie running to the door and peeking out curiously.
Mommy left again. So boring.
She held the bread, then put it down, tapping her phone watch. Her sweet voice rang out: "Brothers, where are you? Elodie is coming to find you."
Soon, she received a location pin and a line of text: "Underground parking garage."
In the underground parking garage, Rowan and Callum stood in front of a black Maybach.
Rowan crossed his arms, frowning at Callum. "Are you sure this is the scumbag daddy's car?"
Callum held a paintbrush, seriously creating artwork on the car body. "No mistake. I saw him get out of this car earlier."
Rowan looked down at the crooked letters and read aloud with a frown: "Wife-abandoning, child-abandoning big scumbag."
He slapped his forehead, his voice low. "Mommy always tells you to read more books, but you've been secretly playing on the computer again, haven't you? Your spelling is terrible."
"Shh—don't worry about those details." Callum waved his hand righteously, drawing an... extremely abstract pig next to the words.
Though we hadn't mentioned Arnold these past years, I knew the children hadn't forgotten completely.
They'd seen him on TV with other women at galas and in the news.
From Clara, they knew why this man couldn't be called "Daddy."
"Rowan, Callum, what are you doing?" Elodie ran over.
Callum immediately covered her mouth. "Shh, we're doing something bad. Keep quiet."
Elodie nodded, covering her mouth tightly, then looked up curiously at the big letters. "Callum, you wrote the words wrong."
Callum scratched his head. "...Not important, not important."
Rowan took Elodie's hand and asked, "Hasn't Mommy come back yet?"
"Mommy was called to the manager uncle's office."
—
I pushed open the manager's office door. As soon as I entered, the manager saw me and waved me over. "Lacey, come quickly. This is Mrs. Cavendish. Mrs. Cavendish, this is the auctioneer Lacey you were looking for."
That familiar address sent a jolt through my heart.
Years ago, I’d been called Mrs. Cavendish countless times—
So then, who was this Mrs. Cavendish standing before me now?
End of Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness Chapter 8. Continue reading Chapter 9 or return to Left at the Altar with His Triplets: The Billionaire Begs for Forgiveness book page.