After Getting Pregnant, the Grandson of New York’s Richest Man and My Fiancé Bet on Whose Child I’m Carrying

On my wedding day, the shocking revelation came: I was responsible for my fiancé’s father’s death. He publicly called off our engagement and, in front of everyone, placed the ring on my cousin’s finger instead. Shamed by the crowd, I made my way down the aisle, not in celebration, but in disgrace.

Then, the grandson of New York’s wealthiest man stepped forward, offering a villa as a dowry to marry me, silencing the crowd’s murmurs. Touched by his bold gesture, I accepted.

Three years later, with joy in my heart, I brought my ultrasound report to his office, only to stumble upon a conversation between him, his friend Beckett, and my cousin.

“So, who do you think the father is? I’m dying to see her reaction.”

It turned out I was nothing but a pawn in their cruel game.

Wiping away my tears, I called his business rival. “I have something you want, along with a multimillion-dollar proposition. Are you interested?”