Triplets of the Fallen Billionaire

Chapter 5

FAYE

My legs carried me down the hallway, into the elevator, through the lobby, out into the cold air — but I didn’t feel any of it. My chest was tight, my vision blurry, my breath uneven.

I wasn’t just heartbroken— I was angry. I was angry at the three of them, but at myself more for staying this long.

By the time I reached my car, my hands were shaking. I gripped the steering wheel and closed my eyes, trying to steady myself.

But the world tilted. A wave of dizziness washed over me. I pressed a hand to my forehead.

Maybe I’m just hungry.

I hadn’t eaten breakfast. And I barely ate yesterday evening. I didn't have the appetite.

My phone rang.

Lana.

I answered immediately.

“Happy birthday—” she began, but stopped. “Faye? What’s wrong?”

I swallowed hard. “Are you free?”

She didn’t ask another question. “Where do you want me?”

I drove to our favorite breakfast place — a small, cozy restaurant tucked between a flower shop and a bookstore. The Delacroix couple had owned it for decades. They knew us by name. They knew our orders. They knew our lives.

When I walked in, Mrs. Delacroix gasped softly.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she said, cupping my cheek. “You look pale. Sit, sit. I’ll bring your usual.”

Lana arrived minutes later, sliding into the booth across from me. Her eyes scanned my face, reading every crack.

“What happened?” she whispered.

I opened my mouth, but the words tangled. I wanted to tell her about Cedric and Gretchen sitting on his lap. About Heather trying to make me leave. But I couldn’t say any of it. Today was like a bad dream. What did I do to deserve this?

"Weren't you supposed to leave this afternoon for Paris?" asked Lana.

Before I could respond, Mrs. Delacroix returned with waffles, fruit, and warm syrup. The moment the plate hit the table, something inside me snapped open.

I was starving. I picked up my fork and ate like I hadn’t eaten in days.

Lana blinked. “Whoa. Slow down.”

“I’m hungry,” I muttered, embarrassed.

“You never eat like this.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My body felt like it was running on instinct, like it needed this food more than I understood.

Mrs. Delacroix laughed softly as she passed by.

“Look at you,” she said warmly. “You’re glowing. Eating like that… you remind me of myself when I was pregnant with my first.”

I froze.

Lana’s eyes widened.

Mrs. Delacroix continued, oblivious. “Oh, I had such an appetite. Ate enough for two. You be careful, dear. Sometimes the body knows before the mind does.”

She winked. “And since it’s your birthday, breakfast is on the house.”

I thanked her, but my voice sounded far away.

Lana leaned forward. “Faye… when was your last period?”

I blinked. “I— I don’t know.”

“Did you get it this month?”

I tried to think.

The cabinet. The unopened pack of sanitary napkins. The untouched wrapper.

My heart skipped.

“I… I haven’t used anything,” I whispered. “Not this month. Not last month either. I think.” And I'm a regular.

Lana’s eyes softened. “Faye.”

I stood abruptly. “I need to go.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

I shook my head. “No. I need to do this alone.”

She didn’t argue. She just squeezed my hand. “Call me.”

I didn’t go home.

I drove thirty minutes out of the city to a small clinic I’d never been to before. I didn’t want Cedric’s family doctor. I didn’t want anyone who knew the Moores.

I wanted privacy. I wanted truth.

The clinic was quiet. I filled out the forms with shaking hands. A nurse led me to a small room. A test was done. Then another.

I waited.

Finally, the door opened.

A woman in her early thirties stepped inside, smiling gently.

“Mrs. Moore?” she said. “I’m Dr. Kendall.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

She sat across from me, her expression warm.

“Congratulations,” she said softly. “You’re pregnant.”

The world stopped. My breath caught.

“You’re about six weeks along,” she continued. “Everything looks healthy. We can do an ultrasound today if you’d like. Do you have time?”

I nodded again.

The clinic wasn’t busy. They gave me water. I waited. After nearly two hours, they called me back.

The room was dim. The machine hummed. Gel touched my skin.

And then—

There it was.

A tiny shape.

A flicker.

A heartbeat.

My baby.

Dr. Kendall printed the image and handed it to me.

“Take care of yourself,” she said gently. "Let me know if you need anything or if you have questions. I'm sure your husband will be thrilled."

Honestly, I am not so sure about that.

When I left Cedric’s office earlier, I was ready to end the marriage. I was done. I was ready to walk away.

Gretchen was back. His mother hated me. Cedric didn’t trust me.

I was just done with all of them.

But now… Now there was a heartbeat.

A life. A child. Our child.

Did I want my baby to grow up without a father? I don't know.

I drove home slowly, the ultrasound photo clutched in my hand.

When I walked inside, the house was silent.

A stack of papers sat on the dining table.

My heart dropped when I saw it.

Divorce papers. Already signed. Cedric’s signature scrawled across the bottom. Fifty percent of everything.

The terms were generous but I didn't care about that.

A small note lay on top.

I’ll be away for a week.

When I return, I want you gone.

— Cedric



I stared at the words until they blurred. Then I looked down at the ultrasound photo. My hand trembled. My breath shook.

"I'm sorry, baby. Your Daddy do not want us. But that's okay. I promise to take care of you."