She Stole My Billionaire Husband,Now She's Begging Me to Spare Her Daughter

Jim Winfield was the rugged type of handsome.

Morris was too.

“The boy has the same look as you, Mr. Winfield.

“But that look isn't exclusive to you.

“Mr. Winfield, you're really reading too much into this.”

Jim sighed：

“Fine.

“I'll take the loss.

“I can marry you.”

I froze.

He looked at me：

“Julia, if that's what you're after, then I accept.

“We can go get legally married right now. What do you say?”

I was so thrown I couldn't speak for a long moment.

“My heart probably won't ever belong to you, but I'll do everything I can to fulfill a husband's duties.”

I'd had enough.

“Show him out.”

“Julia Manning!”

Jim frowned：“Do you have to make things difficult for Ella and Linda?!”

I stared at him, ice-cold：

“Show him out!”

Jim looked at me like I was the unreasonable one.

My people removed him.

I pinched the bridge of my nose：

“If anyone else comes looking for me, turn them away at the door!”

But the next day.

My assistant came in to report：

“Ms. Manning, there's a visitor outside who insists on seeing you.

“She says she's your mother.”

More than twenty years had passed.

My mother's eyes were still just as cold when she looked at me.

She walked in.

First, she scanned the room, taking in my surroundings.

A scoff：

“These twenty years, you really have been holding your breath for this.”

“Mrs. Manning, why don't you just say what you came to say.”

My mother looked at me：

“You spent twenty years lying in wait, all for today. Am I right?”

I frowned.

She stepped closer：

“Daughter, you are my daughter.

“I understand you hate me.”

And with that.

She stood right in front of me.

And dropped straight to her knees.

I stared at her, stunned：“Mom?”

“If this will make you feel better, your mother can kneel.

“Warmie.”

She looked up at me：“I still prefer the name your mother gave you.”

My outstretched hand stopped in midair.

Her eyes locked onto mine, unblinking：

“What happened back then was my choice alone.

“I don't regret it, but I'll take responsibility.

“I owe you an apology.”

I looked at her with a bitter smile：

“For your little sister, you'd actually go this far.”

“Yes.”

I quietly pulled my hand back：

“Mom, there's one question I've never understood.

“Can you answer it for me?”

“What?”

“How is it that you can be a world-renowned philanthropist, helping all those children in need?”

My voice cracked：“And yet you could never bring yourself to treat me fairly?”

My mother went still.

I looked at her through burning eyes：

“I even secretly got a paternity test done.

“I am your child. Isn't that right?”

My mother lowered her head.

“Mom, say something.”

“I'm sorry.”

She looked at me, her gaze unwavering：

“But I can't bear to see Ella suffer.”

I laughed.

She couldn't bear to see Ella suffer.

So it was fine to let me suffer instead?

My laugh turned cutting：

“Get up.

“I will never forgive any of you.”

“Warmie!”

I said nothing.

“Julia……”

Her voice was almost a plea.

I stood by the window：“Show her out.”

My mother looked at me, eyes red.

The sorrow in them slowly gave way to bitterness.

And then to resentment. Even anger.

She slammed the door on her way out.

I stood by the window, watching her retreating figure.

I gave the order：

“Arrange a matchmaking gala for Morris. No restrictions on background. Anyone with good character and the right age is welcome to attend.

“Except Linda Harding.”

“Yes, ma'am!”

The gala came together quickly.

Morris was dressed impeccably.

“Setting up something like an arranged marriage for you. Will you resent me for it?”

“No.”

Morris looked out at the young women：

“I've never forgotten that you raised me on your own.

“It's time I did something for this family.”

I smiled：

“If there's someone you like, it doesn't matter if her family has nothing.”

Morris turned to me：“As long as I like her?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Of course. Even someone who isn't here tonight. You can choose her too.”

“In that case.”

Morris stood up.

He raised his arm.

The champagne tower, two stories of crystal, crashed to the floor in a single sweep.

Glass shattered everywhere.

Every girl in the room shrieked and stumbled back.

Champagne splashed across my clothes.

I looked up.

Morris had a white-knuckle grip on the hand of Linda Harding, who had just walked through the door.

“I'm sorry, Mother. I know you don't like Linda.

“But I'm going to marry her.”

Linda looked down at me.

She leaned into Morris, her body pressed against his：

“Sorry, Auntie. Looks like your word doesn't really count for much after all~”