Triplets of the Fallen Billionaire

Chapter 3

FAYE

I woke up before the sun.

For a moment, I forgot what day it was.

Then I remembered.

My birthday.

I turned to Cedric’s side of the bed.

It was empty. He didn't come home last night. Again.

I stared at the pillow, the sheets, the hollow space where he should have been. I told myself not to cry — not today, not on the morning I was supposed to save my marriage.

I reached for my phone instead.

A single notification blinked on the screen.

Unknown number.

I frowned and opened it.

A photo filled the screen.

Cedric.

Smiling.

Relaxed.

Happy.

And Gretchen — sitting on his lap, her arm draped around his shoulders, her cheek pressed to his. They looked like a couple. A real one. A practiced one.

Behind them, people laughed, glasses raised, music lights blurring in the background.

They were at a party. That's why he didn't come home.

My stomach twisted.

Before I could breathe, another message appeared.

“Miss me? I’m back in New York.

And I’m reclaiming what’s mine.”

My hands trembled.

Another message.

“Cedric and I have been seeing each other for weeks.

You should’ve known he’d come back to me eventually.”

I stared at the screen, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Gretchen.

The woman who left for New York almost a year ago.

The woman who wasn’t ready to settle down.

The woman who didn’t want a baby — the very thing the Moore family demanded from me.

She was back.

And she was taunting me.

My throat tightened.

Is this why he hasn’t touched me?

Is this why he barely comes home?

Is this why I’m not pregnant?

Is someone else filling the space I’ve been begging for?

I didn’t reply.

I called Cedric instead.

The call rang once.

Then it was cancelled.

Cancelled.

On my birthday.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and typed:

Where are you?

His reply came seconds later.

Office.

Just that. On a Saturday?

No greeting. No explanation.

No “Happy birthday.”

I stared at the word until it blurred.

Then I stood up.

If he was at the office, then I would go to him.

I would confront him. I would save what was left of us.

I showered quickly, scrubbing away the ache in my chest. I chose a floral dress — soft, feminine, hopeful. Ballet flats. A cardigan. I tied my hair into a messy bun and applied a little makeup to hide how pale I felt.

I looked like a woman trying to hold herself together.

Because I was.

The Moore Corporation building loomed tall and glassy, reflecting the morning sun. I walked through the lobby, clutching my bag, ignoring the curious glances from some employees who weren’t used to seeing me here.

Cedric’s office was on the top floor.

I took the elevator up, my heart pounding with every passing second.

When the doors opened, I stepped into the quiet hallway and walked toward his office.

The door was slightly ajar.

I pushed it open.

And froze.

It wasn't Cedric I found. It was Heather Blackwell-Moore— my mother in law. She told me one time her family is as equally important as the Moores so she kept her maiden name and used a hyphen.

Heather sat across from his desk, reading a document with a tight, disapproving expression. She looked up the moment she heard me.

Her eyes swept over me — floral dress, cardigan, hopeful makeup — and something cold flickered across her face.

“Faye,” she said, voice clipped. “What are you doing here?”

I swallowed. “I… I came to see Cedric.”

“He’s busy.”

I glanced around. “He said he was here.”

“He stepped out.”

Her tone was polite, but sharp enough to cut.

I forced a smile. “It’s my birthday. I thought—”

“This isn’t a good time,” she interrupted.

The coldness in her voice made my stomach twist.

I took a step closer. “Is something wrong?”

She held up the document she’d been reading.

“Yes,” she said. “Something is very wrong.”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

She stood, smoothing her blazer. “We received an anonymous tip that someone in the Moore household has been leaking confidential information to a rival tech company.”

My breath caught.

“Leaking?” I whispered. “I don’t—”

She cut me off again. “The data came from inside the home network. From your devices.”

My heart dropped.

“My—? That’s impossible. I would never—”

“Wouldn’t you?” she said softly, dangerously. “You have the technical background. You know how to access our systems. You know how to hide your tracks.”

I shook my head, horrified. “I didn’t do anything. I swear.”

She stepped closer, her voice lowering.

“Cedric may be too blinded by obligation to see it, but I’m not. You’ve been… unhappy. Neglected. Desperate. Women in your position do foolish things.”

The words hit like slaps.

“I didn’t leak anything,” I whispered. “I would never betray Cedric.”

Her expression didn’t change.

“Then explain this,” she said, tapping the document.

“I can’t,” I said, voice cracking. “Because I didn’t do it.”

She studied me for a long, cold moment.

Then the door opened. Cedric walked in.

He stopped when he saw me.

“Faye?” he said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

I took a shaky breath. “I came to see you.”

Heather stepped aside, handing him the document.

“Show her,” she said.

Cedric looked at the papers, then at me.

“Mom thinks you leaked confidential data,” he said quietly.

“Thinks?” his mother snapped. “The evidence is right there.”

I stared at Cedric, waiting — begging — for him to defend me.

To say something. Anything. But he didn’t.

He just looked at me with a strange, unreadable expression.

“Faye,” he said slowly, “is there something you want to tell me?”

My heart shattered.

“You think I did this?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. And that silence hurt more than any accusation.

I stepped back, feeling the room tilt.

“I came here,” I said softly, “to spend my birthday with my husband.”

Cedric’s eyes widened slightly — as if he’d forgotten.

Heather's lips tightened.

I swallowed the lump in my throat.

“I came here to save our marriage,” I whispered. “But I walked straight into its funeral.”

The room went silent.