My husband was firm about staying child-free, so I made a choice—I got my tubes tied the day we got married.

Twenty years later, I saw two names on the Ceppetelli Co. share agreement.

I secretly dug into it, and that’s when I found out—they were my husband's kids! Twins he had fathered 10 years ago!

My retired in-laws had been raising them all this time!

The revelation hit me like a thunderclap. Enraged, I confronted him.

He simply explained, “I just did it to fulfill Shalane’s filial wish.”

Tears burned in my eyes as we fought harder than ever before, so much that even friends and family tried to step in to reason with me.

“You’ve been married for 20 years! It’s just a couple of kids! If Brent didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t have hidden them from you, right?”

“You haven’t been able to conceive all these years, but Brent stayed with you. Besides, the Ceppetellis’ company needs an heir eventually.”

I looked at Brent, my heart aching. Despite being in his forties, he was still tall, his blonde hair untouched by age.

“If you stop seeing them, I won’t file for divorce. That’s my final compromise.”

Brent stood up and silently removed his wedding ring.

“They are my blood, Cammie. I can’t abandon them. I am their father, too.”

He looked at me—without a hint of guilt.

“If you can’t let this go, then I’ll move out for now.”

I clenched my fists, losing all hope.

“Then let’s get a divorce, Brent!”

——

It was then that my father shot up, and his big hand landed on my face.

“Brent has been such a good husband to you, and you dare divorce him? I could put you in a wheelchair right now!”

My cousin chimed in frantically, “Camryn, do you know how much Brent has done for us? It’s just a couple of kids! He’s not even asking you to spend a dime to raise them! How could you throw away your marriage for such a small matter?”

As everyone tried to convince me to stay, Brent’s face darkened.

He frowned and finally spoke.

“Cammie, that’s not what I meant.”

Pain stabbed through my chest. I lifted my head, forcing back the lump in my throat.

“It doesn’t matter what you meant anymore, Brent. You broke our vows.”

His expression turned cold and unreadable.

“We’ve been through so much together, Cammie. After all these years, I thought you’d understand me.

“I was just keeping a promise I made to Shalane back then. There’s nothing more to it. They are out of responsibility, not out of love! Why are you being so jealous over something that doesn’t even matter?”

His voice was calm, almost resigned as if I were the unreasonable one.

But to me, it was bitter beyond words.

All these years, my patience and understanding had only made him feel entitled to disregard our marriage.

For a moment, I closed my eyes.

Twenty years ago, back in college, I was falsely accused, bullied, and cast out. Brent was the one who stood up for me, and from that moment on, I fell for the noble, righteous man he was.

I thought we were destined to remain parallel lines, close but never crossing.

But a year after graduation, his family’s business was on the verge of collapse. His stepbrother had colluded with a conman, forging contracts and stealing assets.

As Ceppetelli Co. collapsed, I didn’t even think twice—I quit my job and threw myself into saving his family’s company.

For years, Brent and I ran around begging for investors, swallowing our pride, drinking glass after glass just to secure deals.

It took five grueling years, but we finally brought Ceppetelli Co. back to life.

On our wedding night, he told me he never wanted children—his step-brother’s betrayal had scarred him too deeply. Without hesitation, I got my tubes tied.

A year later, when our parents started pressuring us for kids, I stood firm. I let them believe I was infertile, even showing them a medical diagnosis.

From that moment on, they forced endless herbal remedies and supplements on me.

One night, as I forced myself to swallow yet another bitter cup of tonic, Brent pulled me into his arms, his voice full of concern.

“Cammie, I should tell them the truth before this harms you.”

I looked up at him intently.

“Are you sure you can handle the pressure? Not wanting kids and not being able to have them aren’t the same thing.

“No matter what you decide, I’ll support you.”

Brent hesitated.

Back then, I told him that if he ever stopped being afraid—if he truly wanted a child—I’d go through surgery again so we could have our own baby.

And he agreed.

Ten years ago, his parents suddenly stopped pushing us. His mother stopped rolling her eyes at me and stopped forcing me to take meds.

They moved to London to enjoy their retirement, leaving the family villa to Brent and me.

All along, I thought they had finally let it go.

Turns out, the Ceppetellis already had an heir. Twins, in fact.

That was when I found out that all those times Brent traveled to London, it wasn’t for business. He was with Shalane Shepley and their children.

I swallowed my emotions, pushing down the tightness in my chest.

“Do you even know the difference between responsibility and love, Brent? Don’t you think I’m pathetic? Like a complete fool?”

He looked at me, guilt flashing across his face.

“I’m so sorry, Cammie. I never wanted you to go through surgery—I just… I just wanted to experience being a father.

“She and the kids don’t interfere with our lives. I’ve done my duty to Shalane, and if you’re willing, they’ll treat you with respect—like a mother.”

I let out a cold laugh.

“So my husband cheats, and I’m supposed to be grateful that I now have children who will be filial to me? Otherwise, I’d just die alone and miserable?”

Brent looked uncomfortable, his voice rising slightly.

“Come on, why do you have to put it like that? It wasn’t cheating! It only happened once,” he muttered. “And it was for—”

Maybe even he couldn’t bring himself to finish that sentence. Instead, he drove everyone out of the room.

“Camryn, I know you’re upset, but try to understand. I’m forty-two. I just… didn’t want to have regrets.

“If you really love me, you’d accept the kids. Shalane takes care of them well—you wouldn’t have to do anything. Isn’t that a good thing?”

I stared at him for a long time before my voice finally came out, hoarse.

“And what if I don’t accept them?”

“I know this is hard for you right now. It’s okay—I’ll give you time.

“But Shalane and the kids… I will keep seeing them.

“Next week is Dad’s 70th birthday. Shalane’s bringing the kids. Once you meet them, you’ll love them.”

And with that, he closed the door and left.

I sat there quietly, unlocked my phone, and opened the file from the private investigator.

Thousands of photos and videos—Brent at every doctor’s appointment with Shalane, from the first ultrasound to the birth of their children. Every milestone, every family moment.

There was even a stock transfer agreement.

Twenty years of marriage. And all those “business trips” outside the U.S.? He was with them!

And I never even questioned it!

The perfect happy family photos felt like a knife stabbing my eyes.

I had given up everything to marry into Brent’s family. I stood by him through every storm. I became the woman behind his success.

And in the end, I was nothing more than a stranger in his life.

Feeling numb, I closed my phone and made a call.

“I’ll take the offer to expand the northwest market. And find me the best divorce lawyer you can.”

At my father-in-law’s birthday party, Shalane arrived in a custom dress, her face glowing and perfectly maintained.

She whispered something that made my in-laws burst into laughter.

The twins, dressed in crisp navy suits with matching ties, looked elegant and adorable.

Regina, my mother-in-law, held their hands, her eyes filled with affection.

Afraid they’d be hungry or thirsty, she had the hotel servants bring out Michelin-star pastries.

When Regina saw me, she barely acknowledged my presence with a grunt and tossed the gift I brought onto the pile without a second glance.

She had never liked me. In her eyes, I was never good enough for her son—just a woman as useless as a hen who couldn’t lay eggs.

Meanwhile, Shalane handed the old woman a pearl bracelet with a sweet smile, and my mother-in-law’s face instantly lit up. Regina slipped it onto her wrist, admiring it as she beamed.

“Oh, Shalane, you always know what I like! I love pearls—it makes my mood light up!”

Then, she turned to me with a sneer.

“Not like some people, always looking like they’re at a funeral. Even their gifts bring bad luck.”

Just then, Brent’s grip on my hand loosened. The moment he saw the children, he let go completely and rushed toward them.

“Galvin! Devin! Did you miss Daddy?”

He knelt and pulled them both into a tight hug.

Shalane watched them with a soft, satisfied smile—like a wife watching her husband with their children. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, she reached out and kissed my husband’s cheek.

Brent’s hand lifted to brush aside the loose strands of hair at her temple as he asked gently, “Was the flight exhausting? Were Galvin and Devin well-behaved?”

And then, as if suddenly remembering his actual wife was still standing there, he cleared his throat, took the little boy’s hand, and led him toward me.

“Camryn, this is Galvin. He’s the big brother.”

The boy looked almost exactly like Shalane, with just a faint resemblance to Brent in the shape of his thin lips and almond eyes.

The boy took one look at me and scrunched up his face in disgust.

“You’re ugly! Not even a little bit as pretty as my mom.”

Then he turned back to Brent, tugging at his sleeve.

“Daddy, you promised me a big gift for my 10th birthday. What is it?”

Brent’s lips twitched at his rudeness, but he still answered patiently, “It’s already prepared. But you need to mind your manners—this is Aunt Camryn. Say hello.”

The boy immediately lifted his chin, glaring at me defiantly.

“I know who you are. You’re that shameless woman who stole my dad. We don’t like you. Go away!”

Brent froze, caught off guard. He was just about to scold him when Shalane stepped in with a gentle laugh.

“Brent, he’s just a kid. He doesn’t mean it. Don’t be too harsh. He barely gets to see you—of course, he’d feel upset.”

Brent’s face tightened with guilt. He crouched down, smoothing the boy’s hair.

“Galvin, be good. Daddy will spend more time with you from now on, okay?”

Then, as if to prove his words, he stood up and clapped his hands. Immediately, a line of servants approached, each carrying a carefully wrapped gift.

“Shalane, this is the villa I bought for you and the kids. This time, don’t go back to London.”

With a flourish, he lifted the first red silk cover—a property deed.

Then the second—a Rolls-Royce Cullinan key and registration.

And finally, the third—a custom-made, no-limit black card.

I had never seen Brent this thoughtful before. From jewelry to cars to their favorite meals—every little detail, accounted for.

What was supposed to be a birthday party had turned into a damn luxury showcase.

Brent, still smiling at Shalane and the kids, nodded at the lawyer beside him.

The lawyer picked up the mic and cleared his throat.

“On behalf of Mr. Brent Ceppetelli, I hereby announce the following agreement: 40% of Ceppetelli Co.’s shares will be gifted to Galvin and Devin Ceppetelli. Additionally, 10% of Ceppetelli Co.’s shares will be granted to Miss Shalane Shepley. This agreement has been notarized and is effective immediately.”

The whole room went silent.

Fifty percent of Ceppetelli Co.—that’s billions of dollars in assets!

Then, all at once, the guests erupted in congratulations, swarming around Shalane.

I just stood there and laughed.

What a joke!

I gave this company 20 years of my life! And not once did Brent ever mention giving me shares.

But Shalane? He was so worried about her future, he made sure she had 10%—just in case.

It couldn’t be clearer. Who he cared about, and who he didn’t.

Brent finally turned to me, as if realizing for the first time that I was still here.

“Camryn, don’t overthink this. Giving shares to Galvin and Devin is just to secure their future.”