Triplets of the Fallen Billionaire

Chapter 4

FAYE

I didn’t remember leaving the office the first time. I didn’t remember the elevator ride down, or the lobby, or the cold air outside. All I remembered was Cedric’s silence. Not anger, confusion or disappointment.

Just… doubt. He doubted me.

He believed his mother. He believed I could betray him.

On my birthday.

I sat in my car for a long time, staring at the steering wheel, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest. I should have driven home. I should have walked away.

But I couldn’t. Not without answers.

So I went back upstairs. Back to his office. Back to the place where everything fell apart.

When I stepped inside, Cedric was there — standing behind his desk, rubbing his temples like he was the one who’d been wronged.

Heather sat in the same chair as before, legs crossed, posture perfect, expression sharp.

She looked up first.

“Faye,” she said, voice clipped. “I told you. You shouldn’t be here. Leave us.”

I ignored her.

Cedric looked up next, startled. “You came back?”

“Yes,” I said quietly. “We need to talk.”

Heather stood. “Anything you have to say to my son, you can say in front of me.”

I swallowed. “No. This is between me and Cedric.”

She didn’t move. “I’m not leaving.”

I turned to Cedric. “Can we have a moment? Please?”

He hesitated. And that hesitation hurt more than any accusation.

“I’d prefer she stays,” he said finally.

My stomach twisted.

Of course. He trusted her more than me.

I took a slow breath.

“Fine,” I said. “Then I’ll ask in front of both of you.”

Cedric frowned. “Ask what?”

“Where were you last night?”

Heather stiffened. Cedric’s eyes narrowed.

“I told you,” he said. “I was out.”

“At a party?”

His jaw tightened. “Yes.”

“With who?”

“My friends.”

I nodded once. “Really? Was Gretchen there?”

The room froze.

Cedric’s eyes flickered — guilt, recognition, something he tried to hide.

Before he could answer, a voice floated from the doorway.

“Did I just hear my name?”

I turned.

Gretchen stepped inside like she belonged there.

Perfect hair. Perfect makeup. Perfect smile.

Cedric’s mother lit up like Christmas morning.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said warmly. “It’s so nice of you to come and see us on a Saturday.”

“Of course,” Gretchen said, stepping further in. “Aren’t we going for lunch at the country club? I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

She turned to me with wide, innocent eyes.

“Are you coming too, Faye?”

My stomach twisted.

“No,” I said quietly. “I wasn’t invited.”

Gretchen gasped softly. “Oh, I'm sorry. I’m sure Mama can add another guest. Wouldn’t you?” She looked at Cedric’s mother with a sweet smile. “Come with us. It’ll be fun.”

Fun.

Lunch with the woman who sent me a photo of herself on my husband’s lap.

Lunch with the mother‑in‑law who accused me of betraying the company.

Lunch with the man who didn’t defend me.

I shook my head. “I’d rather not.”

Cedric’s voice cut through the room.

“Don’t be rude, Faye. She’s being nice to you.”

Something inside me cracked.

Not loudly or dramatically.

Just quietly. Like a hairline fracture in glass.

I turned to him slowly.

“Nice?” My voice was steady. “You think she’s being nice?”

Cedric frowned. “Faye—”

“No,” I said, holding up a hand. “Let’s talk. Just you and me.”

I looked at his mother. “Can you give us a moment?” I asked again.

“No,” she said immediately. “This concerns the family.”

I swallowed. “This is between me and my husband."

She didn’t even blink. “Your husband is my son."

My chest tightened. I waited for Cedric to say something.

But Cedric didn’t say a word.

So I turned back to him.

“You didn’t come home,” I said. “You didn’t call. You didn’t remember my birthday. And when I asked where you were, you lied.”

Cedric’s jaw clenched. “I didn’t lie.”

“You said you were at the office.”

“I was.”

“Then why was she with you?”

Silence.

Heather stepped forward. “Faye, this is inappropriate—”

“Oh, now it's inappropriate?" I chuckled. "No,” I said, turning to her. “What’s inappropriate is accusing me of betraying your company without proof and without proper investigation. What’s inappropriate is barging into our marriage and treating me like I'm the mistress. What’s inappropriate is pretending Gretchen is some innocent visitor when she’s been sending me photos of her on Cedric’s lap.”

Gretchen’s eyes widened. “I never—”

“Don’t,” I said. “Just don’t.”

Cedric looked between us, confused. “What photos?”

I handed him my phone. He stared at the screen. His face changed. Not with guilt or shame. But with something worse.

Resignation.

“Faye,” he said quietly, “it’s not what it looks like.”

I laughed. A small, broken sound.

“Of course it is,” I whispered. “It’s exactly what it looks like.”

His mother stepped beside him. “Cedric, sweetheart, you don’t have to explain yourself to her. She’s the one who—”

“Stop,” I said, my voice shaking. “Just stop.”

I looked at Cedric.

“Do you believe I leaked your company’s data?”

He didn’t answer.

“Do you believe I would betray you?”

Silence.

“Do you believe I’m capable of something like that?”

His eyes dropped.

And that was it. Silence means yes.

That was the moment something inside me shattered so completely it could never be put back together.

I straightened my shoulders.

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

Cedric’s eyes flickered — guilt, maybe. Or pity. I didn’t care.

“I came here to fix us,” I whispered. “To try. To fight. To save what’s left.”

My voice steadied, even as my heart broke.

“But I’m done explaining myself to people who decided I’m guilty before I even spoke.”

The room went still. Gretchen looked away. Heather smirked. Cedric opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

And for the first time since we got married, I didn’t wait for him to speak. I turned and I walked out of his office.

I didn’t look back.