His Ex-Wife’s Secret Baby:The Billionaire Who Lied About Our Son

Miss Harding?

Three years of marriage, and he still refused to acknowledge her as his wife.

Seeing the disgust in Miles's eyes, Molly knew that no matter what she said or did, he would never give her the brooch.

Disappointment settled over her as she wondered how she could possibly get it back from him.

On the way home, her car stopped at an intersection. On the giant LED billboard across the street, news footage was playing: "Miles Vance wins Master Dylan Parker's Promise Brooch for $20 million—rumored proposal to girlfriend Sibyl Edwards."

Molly turned her head just in time to see a breathtakingly beautiful woman throwing her arms around Miles, beaming like a child on Christmas morning.

And her handsome husband was playing along perfectly—leaning down slightly, his palm resting on the woman's back, a gentle smile on his lips, his eyes soft with tenderness.

Miles Vance, who was always so cold he barely seemed human, could actually look at someone like that...

Molly stared blankly at the screen, at the impossibly handsome man she had given her heart to.

So that's what the brooch was for. A proposal.

The Promise Brooch her father had designed for her mother—and Miles had used it to propose to his mistress.

Oh, Molly. What a joke you are.

She blinked slowly, brushed the tears from the corner of her eye with her fingertips, and dialed Miles's number.

"What is it?"

His tone was exactly as she expected—impatient, cold.

"Miles, just give me the brooch, and we'll divorce."

He didn't say a word. The line went dead.

Molly didn't call back. He found her tiresome enough already.

...

The next day, Miles finally came home around noon.

The house where he and Molly had started their marriage had become well-ordered since she moved in—every plant and piece of furniture arranged with care. To him, though, it felt like a stranger's home.

He had barely stepped into the foyer when the housekeeper approached. "Sir, Mrs. Vance sat in the living room all night. She only went upstairs a short while ago."

Miles acknowledged her with a nod and had the driver leave his luggage in the living room before heading upstairs.

The guest bedroom door was open. Inside, everything was neat and organized. Molly was still wearing yesterday's clothes, carefully placing books from the shelf into a cardboard box.

She heard him and turned around.

When she saw him, there was none of the eager delight that used to light up her face.

They regarded each other in silence for a moment. When she didn't speak, Miles couldn't be bothered to say anything either. He loosened his tie and retreated to his own room.

Even after marriage, they were strangers under the same roof.

Molly smiled bitterly to herself.

His affair with Sibyl had made headlines everywhere—he'd thrown the Harding family's dignity to the ground—and he hadn't offered her a single word of explanation.

Because she didn't matter. Because she wasn't the wife he wanted.

The Harding family had done the Vances a great favor. When Molly said she wanted to marry Miles, the Vance family had separated him from the woman he loved.

Maybe this is karma, she thought. Punishment for destroying his chance at happiness.

Three years ago, Miles had come to her and said, "There's someone in my heart. Whatever debt my family owes yours—I can repay it another way."

If she could go back to that moment, she would have agreed. Instead, she had said, "Miles, I only want you."

...

Once Molly had finished packing, she instructed the servants to load her things into her car. That's when Miles finally came downstairs.

He walked past her and settled onto the living room sofa. "Where are you going?"

Molly glanced at him. Miles was undeniably handsome, with an air about him that was almost impossible to put into words.

But the scent of Sibyl's perfume clinging to him cleared her head instantly. "I'll have my lawyer draft the divorce agreement."

Miles was reaching for a cigarette. He paused, looking up at her. "Haven't you caused enough drama?"

Drama?

He thought she was being dramatic?

So even when she said "divorce," he hadn't believed her—thought she was just playing games?

Molly let out a soft laugh. "I finally understand how you felt back then. I'm truly sorry, Mr. Vance."

Miles's hand froze mid-motion as he was about to light the cigarette. He looked up at her. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and there was a fragility about her—something broken—that he had never seen before.

It caught him off guard.

But before he could dwell on it, she had already turned and walked away.