The Billionaire's Filthy Forgiveness

12: Mitchell’s Baby Bombshell Shocks the Office

Lilian ~

I’m staring at my phone screen like it’s about to bite me. The Slack notification hangs there, bold and red:

**New upload in #general**

**From: Mitchell Pearse**

My thumb freezes. Mitchell. Edwin’s ex-wife. The name alone makes my stomach drop through the floor.

I tap it before I can think.

The file opens. Not a video of me riding Edwin’s fingers. Not the blurry stills Daniel took.

It’s photos. Bright, happy, hospital-bed bright. A newborn baby wrapped in a pale blue blanket. Tiny fists. Little red face scrunched up like he’s already mad at the world. Mitchell’s holding him close, smiling straight into the camera. Her hair’s messy, eyes tired but shining.

Caption under the first one:

**The heir of Ed-Pearse Holdings is finally here. Edwin, meet your son. We need to talk.**

Then the second photo: closer shot of the baby’s face. Same caption, pinned again.

Third photo: Mitchell kissing the baby’s forehead.

**He looks just like you, Ed. Come see him.**

Fourth: her hospital wristband clearly visible. Baby’s full name typed out in the file name itself.

**Edwin Pearse Jr.**

My knees go soft.

The whole #general channel is already exploding.

**Katie:** Wait what

**Finance-Mark:** Is this real??

**Intern-Sam:** Holy s**t the ex-wife just dropped a baby bomb

**Someone anonymous:** LMAO Edwin got a secret kid??

**Another anonymous:** This is why he called that meeting today huh

I can’t breathe right. My chest feels crushed.

Edwin. A dad. A secret baby. With *her*.

The woman who cheated on him. The one who broke him so bad he still keeps that old wedding photo in his desk like a wound he can’t stop touching.

And now she’s saying this little boy is his.

My phone keeps vibrating. Messages piling up. I don’t read them. I just stare at that tiny face again.

He does look like Edwin. The shape of the nose. The dark eyebrows already thick. Or maybe I’m seeing things because my brain is short-circuiting.

I look up.

Daniel is watching me from across the open-plan floor. Not smirking. Not angry. Just… blank. Like he’s waiting to see how badly I break.

He doesn’t post my photos. He doesn’t need to anymore.

Mitchell just detonated a bigger bomb.

Someone in the kitchen area laughs - nervous, too loud. A printer starts spitting paper like nothing’s wrong. Normal office sounds feel obscene right now.

I stand up on shaky legs. Walk straight to Edwin’s office. Don’t knock. Push the door open.

He’s standing at the window, back to me, hands in his pockets. Phone pressed to his ear. Voice low, clipped.

“…I don’t care what the IT logs say. Find out how she still has access. Fix it. Now.”

He ends the call. Doesn’t turn around right away.

I close the door. Lock it.

“Edwin.” My voice comes out small.

He finally turns.

His face is gray. Not angry. Not cold. Just… empty. Like someone hollowed him out in the last ten minutes.

“You saw it,” he says. Flat.

“Yeah.” I swallow. “Everyone saw it.”

He nods once. Slow. Like it costs him something.

“Is it true?” The question rips out of me before I can stop it. “Is that baby yours?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Just looks at me. Really looks. Like he’s trying to memorize my face in case this is the last time.

“I don’t know,” he says finally. Voice scraped raw. “She says he is. But we were already divorced when he was conceived. She was with...” He stops. Jaw flexes. “With him. My ex-best friend. You know the story.”

I do. I read every disgusting email. Saw the photos she sent him to taunt him. Her legs wrapped around another man in their bed.

“So why is she saying it’s yours?” My voice cracks. “Why post it to the company channel? Why use *our* platform?”

“Because she still has credentials,” he says quietly. “Tech never fully deactivated her account after the divorce. She was still listed as a director. Big f**k-up. They’re fixing it now, but…” He spreads his hands. Useless. “Too late.”

I step closer. “What are you going to do?”

“What can I do? Either I’m the father or I’m not. If I am, then she trapped me. If I’m not, she’s lying to hurt me. Again.”

My throat hurts. “And if you are?”

His eyes meet mine. Dark. Tired. Scared in a way I’ve never seen.

“Then I have a son I didn’t know about. And she’s going to use him to crawl back into my life, into the company, into everything. It won’t work. Lilian, I walked in on Mitchell and Javi in my bed - raw, no condom. Nine months ago. That baby can’t be mine.”

I feel sick.

He steps toward me. Stops. Like he’s not sure he’s allowed to touch me anymore.

“Lilian.” My name sounds like a plea. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”

“I believe you,” I whisper. And I do.

But that doesn’t stop the panic clawing up my throat.

Because if that baby *is* his, everything changes. Mitchell will have a claim. A legal claim. A public claim. She’ll parade that little boy in front of cameras, in front of investors, in front of the board. She’ll say she’s the mother of the heir. She’ll act like the wronged wife coming home.

And me?

I’ll be the side piece who f****d the CEO on his desk. The girl who thought she was special.

Daniel was right about one thing.

Edwin *will* drop me. Not because he wants to. But because he’ll have to.

A child changes the math.

I feel tears coming. Hot. Fast. I blink hard.

He sees them anyway.

He crosses the room, pulls me against his chest. Arms tight. Chin on top of my head.

“I’m not letting her take anything else from me,” he mutters into my hair. “Not you. Not this.”

But his voice shakes. Just a little.

And that tiny shake breaks something inside me.

I push back so I can look at him.

“You don’t know yet,” I say. “You need a test. You need proof.”

“I will.” He nods fast. “I’ll demand it. Court-ordered if I have to.”

“But until then…” My voice cracks. “Everyone’s going to think you have a secret kid. And that she’s coming back.”

He doesn’t deny it.

Because we both know it’s already happening.

I can hear it through the door - people talking louder now. Phones ringing. Gossip spreading like fire.

Mitchell’s probably smiling somewhere.

She hit him where it hurts most. Not his money. Not his company.

His future.

And she dragged me into the blast zone.

I step back. Wipe my face.

“I need air,” I say. “I can’t think in here.”

He reaches for me again.

I shake my head.

“Please,” I whisper. “Just… give me a minute.”

He drops his hand. Looks like I slapped him.

But he nods.

I unlock the door. Step out.

The hallway feels too bright. Too loud.

I keep walking. Past staring faces. Past whispers. Past Daniel, who’s leaning against a wall now, arms crossed, watching me like he already won.

I don’t stop.

I push through the glass doors.

Down the elevator.

Out onto the street.

My phone buzzes again.

Slack.

Another upload from Mitchell.

A selfie this time.

Her and the baby.

Her cheek pressed to his tiny head.

Caption:

**We miss you, Daddy. Come pick us.**

I stare at it until my vision blurs.

Then I turn my phone off.

Because if I keep looking, I’m going to cry.