Wedding Day.
The venue was extravagant. Flowers flown in from Europe. Ferraris and Lamborghinis parked outside. The guests were all politicians and business tycoons. Gerald stood at the entrance in a tuxedo worth half a million pesos, bragging to his friends.
“Do you think my squatter ex-wife will show up? She might even pack some spring rolls to take home later,” he laughed loudly.
Then—silence.
A convoy of five black SUVs parted the crowd. At the center stopped a Rolls-Royce Phantom, the car of billionaires.
“Who is that? Do we have royalty attending?” people whispered.
The door opened. A uniformed driver stepped out and rolled out a red carpet. Then I stepped out—wearing a custom-made Michael Cinco red gown, encrusted with Swarovski crystals. Around my neck was a diamond necklace worth as much as the entire wedding venue. The once “ugly” and “worn-out” woman now looked like a queen.
Next, two little girls stepped out—the twins. Bella and Ella, wearing matching designer silk dresses. They looked exactly like Gerald, except they had my eyes.
Gerald’s eyes widened. Guests gasped. A godmother dropped her glass in shock. We walked forward. The sound of my heels echoed like a countdown to Gerald’s end.
Gerald blocked my way, pale, trembling, drenched in cold sweat.
“A-Angeline? I-Is that you? H-How… and w-who are these children?” he stammered, as if he’d seen a ghost.
Beatrice, the bride, rushed over.
“Gerald! Who is this woman?! Why is she stealing the spotlight from me?! And why do those children look like you?!”
I removed my sunglasses and looked straight at Gerald with a victorious smile.
“Gerald,” I said loudly so the entire ballroom could hear, “thank you for the invitation. Let me introduce you to Bella and Ella.”
I leaned closer and whispered—but the videographer’s microphone caught every word.
“They are the children you threw out while they were still in my womb. The children you called a burden. And now—they are the heirs to my empire.”
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