Godmother To His Son Then I Took His Kingdom Chapter 15
Graham waited outside Mara’s company building for three days.
On the afternoon of the third day, she finally appeared. A man was walking beside her, and the two of them were talking about an upcoming exhibition. A faint, easy smile curved her lips—a look of peace Graham hadn’t seen on her face in years.
His eyes burned. He rushed forward and grabbed her wrist.
“Mara—I finally found you!”
The smile vanished from her face, replaced by pure disgust.
The man, Eli, stepped between them. He took hold of Graham’s hand and calmly but firmly pried his fingers loose.
“Don’t touch her.”
Graham stared at them, his voice choking. “Leo isn’t mine. Evelyn lied to me! She used your phone to trick your parents into going to the villa—the car accident was her fault. At the gala, she hid the child and tripped you on purpose, and your parents’ ashes—”
Smack.
Mara slapped him, hard.
Graham’s head snapped to the side. Tears streamed down his face. “I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know she would do those things. I was just trying to protect you. I didn’t want you to have to deal with—”
“You were protecting yourself!”
Mara’s voice shook, but her eyes were dry and cold.
“My parents were driven into a blizzard because of your affair. While I was miscarrying our child, you stayed with her. While my parents’ ashes were being scattered in the harbor, you were still covering for her. And now that you’ve lost your trust fund, your reputation, and your so-called son, you come running to me with the truth?”
She looked straight at him, her words like ice. “Your repentance is for your own comfort. It doesn’t change a single fact. Between us, there is nothing left but hatred and legal proceedings.”
“If you’re truly sorry, tell it to a judge. Don’t tell it to me.”
Graham’s face went chalk-white. He suddenly clutched his chest, staggering as he bent over, gasping for breath.
“Mara… my heart… it hurts…”
Eli started to pull out his phone, but Mara raised a hand to stop him.
She looked at Graham with cold disdain.
“If you were really having a heart attack, you wouldn’t have the strength to clutch your own chest. Stop performing, Graham. Compared to the act you put on when you stepped in front of a car for me eight years ago, this is just pathetic.”