Chapter 2
PART 2
Blake looked like a man whose entire world had tilted beneath his feet, his eyes fixed on the three boys clinging to me as if he were trying to force reality to rearrange itself into something less devastating, but the resemblance was too obvious, too cruel, and too undeniable for even him to ignore.
“How old are they?” he asked quietly.
“Four.”
His face drained of color.
Four.
Exactly four years and eight months after our divorce.
“No,” he whispered. “That’s impossible.”
I almost laughed because five years ago he had called me a liar without hesitation, yet now he desperately wanted me to deny the truth standing in front of him.
“Mom, who’s that?” Noah, the oldest, asked while peeking around my arm.
Before I could answer, the youngest boy, Liam, looked straight at Blake and frowned.
“Why does he look like us?”
The question hit Blake harder than any accusation ever could.
His mouth opened, but no sound came out.
At that moment, our driver stepped forward.
“Mrs. Winters, Mr. Bennett is waiting at the house.”
Blake snapped his head toward me.
“Bennett?”
I nodded.
The name clearly meant something to him.
Everyone in Chicago knew Alexander Bennett—the billionaire venture capitalist who had quietly become one of the city’s most influential men.
Blake’s expression darkened.
“You married him?”
“No.”
“Then why are your children living in his house?”
I hesitated.
Because the answer was dangerous.
Because the truth behind those messages five years ago had never involved an affair.
And because Alexander Bennett was the only person alive who knew why I had vanished without explaining a single thing.
Just then, another black car stopped beside us.
Alexander stepped out.
Tall. Calm. Silver-haired.
And the moment Blake saw him, genuine terror flashed across his face.
Because Alexander Bennett wasn't my husband.
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