My Husband’s Mistress Returned With Triplets for Money

I opened the message without emotion.

[Ella, come home tonight. I have something to discuss with you.]

Knowing this conversation was inevitable, I typed a single-word reply.

[Okay.]

When I pushed open the door, I stopped short, my breath catching.

For a moment, I thought I had walked into the wrong house.

The crystal chandeliers and wall sconces bathed the room in warm light. An anime played softly in the living room, where three little boys laughed between bites of snacks.

The dining table was covered with steaming dishes, the air thick with the rich scent of red wine. In the center sat a towering three-tiered cake, its candles flickering. A bouquet of roses, fresh, vibrant, almost too perfect, rested beside it.

Hayden approached with a bright smile, effortlessly taking my bag from my hands.

"Ella, you’re back. Everything’s ready. We were just waiting for you to start dinner."

Noticing my frozen expression, he placed a hand on my back, gently guiding me toward the table.

"Today is the triplets' birthday. I thought this would be a good chance for you to meet them, to bond with them." His voice was light and casual, as if it were normal like this wasn’t ripping me apart.

"So, I arranged a little celebration at home."

Then, he called out, "Diego, Mateo, Bruno, come meet Aunt Ella. After you greet her later, she'll officially be your godmother."

I froze. This wasn’t just an introduction; it was a trap.

The three children barely spared me a glance, their attention fixed on the glowing anime projection. Only after Hayden coaxed them did they reluctantly shuffle over, dragging their feet.

I studied them, searching for something, anything, that resembled Hayden. But their round faces, small eyes, and short, chubby figures bore no trace of him. Especially their expressions, impatience, irritability, and complete uninterest. They carried none of the sharp, striking features he had in his youth.

The tallest boy eyed me with blatant disdain.

"So, you're Ella? You're really ugly, not even close to how pretty my mom is."

I barely had time to process the words before he turned, frowning.

"Mom, is this really the godmother you found for us? I don’t want her. She’s old and ugly."

The other two pouted in agreement.

"If Big Brother doesn’t want her, neither do I. Going out with her would be embarrassing. She dresses so poorly."

Hayden immediately covered the boy’s mouth, his voice firm but coaxing.

"Diego, don’t be rude. Have you forgotten what Dad told you? If you call her godmother, she’ll buy you big toy cars, a big house, and more toys than you can count."

Then, he turned to me, his expression calm, too calm.

"Ella, since the kids are willing to accept you as their godmother, it’s only fair you show some sincerity. I think three million per child from the relocation compensation sounds reasonable, plus another million for a four-bedroom apartment for Eulalie."

"Money is just an external thing. You don’t have children of your own, so sooner or later, it will all go to them anyway. If you win them over now, when you’re old, they’ll take care of you. I’m doing this for your own good."

The tallest boy, clearly the eldest, rolled his eyes before sighing dramatically.

"Mom said you don’t have kids, and that’s just pathetic. We’ll barely accept you as our godmother but don’t be stingy. You have to treat us well. Otherwise, when you’re old, I’ll make you pick up trash and lock you in a dark room to eat leftovers."

Hayden nodded approvingly.

"My son’s got a point. If their godmother treats them well, of course, they’ll return the favor, right?"

"Don’t worry, your godfather has money. Whatever they want, just let me know."

As he spoke, he grabbed my arm, his grip firm, his gaze full of unspoken meaning.

I sneered and shoved him away.

"Who said I wanted to take them as my godsons? Toy cars? Houses? Where’s your real mother? Why isn’t she buying them for you? What’s the point of dragging an outsider into this?"

The eldest’s face twisted with rage. Without warning, he slammed his head into my stomach, his tiny fists pounding against me.

"How dare you talk about my mom! You’re old and stingy; you deserve to be childless!"

"Asking you to buy us a house was just out of pity. Who’d want an ugly freak like you as a godmother?"

The other two sprang forward, clawing at my clothes, their voices sharp with childish cruelty.

"We don’t want you here, ugly freak! Get out!"