One Night Stand, Eight Surprises: Pampered by My CEO Husband --- - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

Arielle wasn’t searching for answers that night.
She was searching for blankets.
The nursery had grown colder after the security lockdown. The windows sealed, the vents filtered. Nothing could get in—or out—without being scanned, logged, approved.
She reached for the storage chest at the end of the hallway, hoping to find a warmer quilt for Lily. But what she found instead stopped her breath in her throat.
A photo album.
Worn leather.
Kingston crest embossed on the spine.
She opened it slowly. And the past spilled out like smoke from a long-sealed room.
The first picture was innocent: Damien and a dark-haired boy—his cousin, Edward—smiling at a family gala. Arielle had seen that face before in boardroom meetings, in charity events, always watching, always lurking.
The next photo was of her.
Not one she remembered posing for. She was seated at a bar in Vegas, her profile lit by neon. Alone. Vulnerable.
Behind it, a printed email.
From: Edward Kingston
To: Damien Kingston
Subject: Not worth your time
"She took the cash and ran. Don’t let her manipulate you. She’s exactly what Father warned us about."
Arielle sat back, heart pounding.
There was more.
A receipt. A transfer for $250,000 from a Kingston Holdings account to an anonymous bank.
Another photo. Faked. Photoshopped.
Arielle leaving a hotel room—with another man.
Only, it wasn’t her. The angle was close. But the woman’s cheekbone was sharper. The clothes weren’t hers.
She flipped it over. A handwritten note.
“He believed it. And that’s all that mattered.”
She carried the box into their bedroom, the storm in her chest growing heavier with every step.
Damien looked up from the crib, where he’d just tucked Noah in. “Everything okay?”
She didn’t speak. Just handed him the folder.
He flipped through the photos. The receipts. The emails.
And froze.
His jaw locked.
His hands shook.
“I—I never saw this,” he said hoarsely. “Edward told me you left. That you took the money. That you wanted nothing to do with me or the child.”
Arielle’s voice cracked. “I waited. I cried. I wrote letters that came back unopened. I thought you regretted me. That you regretted us.”
Damien sank to the bed, eyes glassy.
“He told me you vanished after Vegas. That it was a mistake you couldn’t bear.”
He looked up, fury climbing behind his grief.
“I believed him.”
Arielle sat beside him, tears tracing her cheeks. “He stole years from us.”
He pulled her close, burying his face into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve fought harder.”
The next morning, Damien stood in his office, facing the Kingston family lawyer.
“I want a full audit of Edward’s movements for the last decade. Pull every email. Every bank transaction. I want proof. And when we have it…”
He didn’t need to finish the sentence.
Because the war had started long ago.
But now, finally, they knew who fired the first shot.
And Damien was going to fire back.