The Ex-Wife's Billion Dollar Comeback - Chapter 25: Chapter 25

~ Soraya ~
Angela’s green eyes were clear as day. They sparkled with unfiltered joy. She was all smiles as Soraya lathered shampoo on her hair.
Soraya was helping her in the bathtub.
This was supposed to be the job of Angela’s nanny, but the little girl insisted that Soraya bathe her.
Angela suddenly pointed behind Soraya.
Soraya looked back and saw yellow duckling toys around. She asked Angela, “Do you want to play with the ducks?”
Angela nodded.
“Say, Aunt Soraya, can I play with my toys?” Soraya encouraged.
Angela took a deep breath. She said, “Mommy, can I play with my toys?”
Soraya: “...”
‘Where did the ‘Mommy’ come from?’ Soraya smirked. The little girl was so cheeky.
Still, Soraya rewarded Angela for her efforts. She took the basket of small yellow ducks and spread them across the bubble bath.
Angela’s words were still not perfectly clear. There were certain letters she could not pronounce correctly, but they were understandable.
In between bathing Angela, Soraya kept reminding her, “If you need to tell me something, you need to say it.”
When Angela merely nodded, Soraya reminded her, “Say, yes, Aunt Soraya.”
Angela: “Yes, Mommy.”
Soraya: “...”
There were some things she couldn’t force, especially with a four-year-old child. Since Jacob had made it clear he wasn’t bothered by Angela addressing her as ‘Mommy,’ she let it be... for now.
Jacob wasn’t home.
Dante told her he was on a business trip and would be back on Saturday evening. He did, however, leave Soraya a contract for their arrangement.
The contract was simple and had no complications. Part of the deal included staying overnight at Jacob’s house on Fridays and Saturdays. Soraya signed it, and Dante gave her a check for $200,000.
It was easy money. Soraya still couldn’t believe it.
The best part was how she earnestly enjoyed her time with Angela.
That night, Soraya watched Angela fall asleep. Tucking her to bed reminded Soraya of the days she had spent with Sage.
She found herself wondering how her daughter was, but at the same time, she recalled how Sage favored Rose.
“Control, Soraya, control. Feelings pass. Feelings pass. Control,” she reminded herself before leaving Angela’s side to make money on stocks.
The next morning, Soraya took Ruth’s place and accompanied Angela to her therapy.
The little girl held her hand proudly as they entered the therapy center, her tiny fingers wrapped tightly around Soraya’s like she didn’t want to let go. In the lounge, they waited for their turn. Around them, other children with special needs lingered with their parents—most seated on laps, sharing snacks, or being gently comforted.
“Hi Angela!” some kids greeted, waving with familiarity.
One particular child, a girl with pigtails and a bright pink dress, suddenly turned to her mother and said, “Mommy, hug, please.”
Angela’s eyes followed them. Then, as if processing what just happened, she turned to Soraya, walked up close, and raised both arms. “Mommy, hug!”
Copying behaviors were common for children with Asperger’s syndrome. Soraya knew this well. She went through the same stage herself as a child.
But somehow, Angela’s actions felt different.
Angela hugged her tightly and lingered. She buried her face in Soraya’s neck and sighed—not the kind of sigh that came from simple mimicry, but one that seemed to whisper, ‘I’ve been waiting for this.’
When it was time to go in, Angela didn’t let go. She held Soraya’s hand all the way into the room and introduced her proudly: “I have Mommy now!”
To the therapists: “This is my mommy!”
To the receptionist: “Mommy is pretty!”
To a little boy in a red hoodie: “Look, I have a mommy too!”
Angela would hug her at random moments, lean on her shoulder, pressing gentle kisses on her cheek, and keep her hand curled in Soraya’s even during therapy games.
It became more than imitation.
With every cling, every smile, and every declaration, it became clear to Soraya: Angela wasn’t pretending.
She truly wanted a mother.
Soraya was not needed throughout Angela’s session. During the little girl’s one-on-one with her therapists, Soraya waited outside.
It was during that moment when Soraya felt a tear run down her cheek.
Angela had been left behind by a mother who never looked back. And Soraya… she had been left standing still, watching her daughter choose someone else.
Soraya and Angela were not two peas in a pod.
They were different, but they fit together in the empty spaces of each other’s lives.
Soraya wondered, ‘Maybe we’re not what we lost… but maybe we’re exactly what we need.’
After the session, Angela’s therapist walked up to Soraya with a smile.
“Angela was amazing today. She followed every instruction, cleaned up after the activity, and even helped another child. That’s the most responsible I’ve ever seen her,” the therapist said.
“Really?” Soraya asked, surprised.
The therapist nodded. “Yes. She was calm, focused, and proud. I asked her what changed, and she said, ‘Mommy came today.’”
Soraya’s heart skipped a beat. She stuttered, “Um—ew—about that—”
But Soraya did not get to explain because the therapist added gently, “You being here… it clearly makes her feel safe and proud. That kind of presence can’t be taught.”
Soraya looked through the glass window at Angela, who was carefully putting away her toys with a happy grin.
Her heart tightened.
She was happy for Angela. But the truth was, she wasn’t her mother. And no matter how much the child clung to her, that fact remained.
‘Is it right to play this role?’ she wondered.
Then Angela turned, spotted her through the glass, and waved with a beam so wide it reached her eyes.
Soraya waved back, thinking, ‘Maybe this isn’t about pretending to be someone I’m not… Maybe it’s just about being kind and showing up for someone who needed me.’
Later that evening, after Angela fell asleep, Soraya set up two laptops on her desk. One showed real-time stock charts, and the other displayed live forex prices. She studied the patterns, tracked price movements, and checked her stop-loss settings. The market was unpredictable, but Soraya stayed focused.
A soft chime on her screen signaled the close of a trade.
She had just earned $19,300 that night.
Just then, a knock came on the door.
Jacob’s deep voice followed. “You’re still awake?”
Soraya turned and saw him standing by the door, relaxed yet striking in his own effortless way. His sleeves were rolled up, collar slightly loose, revealing the quiet strength in his frame. His gaze flickered to the glowing screens.
“Are those stock and forex charts?” He asked.
She nodded. “I trade when the world sleeps.”
He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his usual cool expression hard to read. “How much did you earn?”
“Not much tonight. Just $19,300,” Soraya replied casually.
Jacob didn’t react right away. He stared another second, then exhaled through his nose.
“That’s your definition of ‘not much’?” he said flatly. “Remind me never to play poker with you.”
She shrugged.
Jacob’s brows pulled together slightly. “Just who exactly are you, Soraya Azar?”
“You know what, Mr. Steel, I’ll tell you more about me if we start talking about Angela’s mom.” She closed her laptops. “It’s now or never.”
Jacob tilted his head slightly. “And if I choose never?”
Soraya crossed her arms in reply.
He sighed. “Fine. Let’s have tea while we’re at it.”
Jacob and Soraya talked until the early hours of the morning. She listened, quietly taking in every word, and by the end of it, she finally understood why he had hated her before.
It wasn’t really about her. Jacob’s hatred was born from his own experience of betrayal.
The result… was Angela Steel.