Chapter 306
Audrey had planned to tell Lucia about the pregnancy after the wedding. She was nearly three months pregnant. Now that Lucia had asked, she simply
nodded.
Admitting it outright risked Lucia blabbing at others, inviting endless fussing from people who would treat her too cautiously.
Worse yet, with triplets, the stakes were higher. Audrey couldn’t afford complications.
Lucia hesitated, then forced a smile. “Yann, why don’t you go greet the guests? I’ll stay with Audrey.”
Yann glanced at Audrey for confirmation. Only after she nodded did he hand her a cup of warm milk and leave
Lucia quickly shut the door and sat down next to Audrey on the sofa. “Audrey, listen to me. Don’t have a baby this early,”
Audrey tilted her head. “Why?”
Lucia’s gaze dropped to Audrey’s belly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “When a woman is pregnant, it’s when men cheat the most.”
She had heard enough high–society gossip. Wives were left vulnerable while carrying their husbands‘ heirs, only for those same men to stray.
Some women turned a blind eye, confident in their status. Others made scenes. A few even arranged mistresses for their husbands–better a controlled
variable than some disease.
Lucia said, “You know that A–list actor? The one everyone called ‘Husband Goals‘? The second his wife got pregnant, he started cheating behind her back, and the paparazzi even caught him red–handed.”
She went on to share several more stories of marriages that had ended in public fights.
If a woman came from a weaker background than her husband, she would lose her child and then be abandoned. The man could continue his life as if nothing happened and start a new relationship.
For equal–power couples, wives would cover for husbands, only quietly divorcing once the assets were split.
If the woman held all the cards, the man might issue a public apology, and together, they would blame everything on the mistress, pretending to clean
up their act.
But once a cheater, always a cheater. There was always a second or third time.
“You…” Lucia almost blurted out that Audrey was already in her second marriage. And if she divorced again, how could she ever remarry? But today
wasn’t the day for such gloom.
She knew Audrey had zero tolerance for betrayal–hence the split from Clayton.
If Yann ever strayed, Audrey would never let it slide. And without family backing, the fallout would be disastrous.
Lucia pressed on. “Audrey, listen to me. Even if you want kids, wait until your position is secure, at least until you’ve got enough to support yourself and a child for twenty years. A single mother would have a hard time.”
Audrey stayed quiet. The advice was grating but well–intentioned. “I know.”
If she didn’t respond, Lucia would start talking about how difficult it had been raising her alone, dramatically painting herself as some kind of saintly mother figure.
“One more thing.” Lucia seized Audrey’s rare compliance to shift gears. “Your ex, Clayton, appeared at the wedding.”
Audrey stiffened, halfway to her feet.
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Lucia stopped her. “Relax. I had him removed. He wore a security uniform and sneaked into the inner venue. If he had stormed the stage and spouted nonsense, your wedding would have become the biggest joke in high society. Where would the Winifred family’s dignity go then?
“Yann adores you, but he can’t shield you from everyone’s ridicule. You think you’d survive that fallout?”
Audrey had once thought she and Clayton were done for good. His life, for better or worse, was no longer her concern. But now, with him stirring up trouble like this, she had to settle things once and for all.
She was certain Clayton wouldn’t dare cause a scene at the ceremony, but Lucia’s preemptive measures were still appreciated.
“Thank you,” Audrey said sincerely.
Lucía studied her face, a pang of bitterness rising in her chest. “Audrey, you haven’t called me Mom in so long.”
Ever since George’s death, Audrey had stopped calling her Mom. She only used Lucia’s name or just said “hey” when addressing her.
Part of the reason Lucia had insisted on joining the stage for photos was the hope of hearing that word again–proof that she still mattered as a mother, not just a name.
Audrey’s lips parted slightly, but the word lodged in her throat, unspoken.
Just then, Lena pushed the door open with a bright grin. “Audrey, time to greet the guests.”
“Alright.” Audrey stood, smoothing her dress before following Lena out.
“Everything’s taken care of. Don’t worry,” Lena whispered as they walked.
It wasn’t until they entered the banquet hall that Audrey understood.
Owen, the groomsman, was sporting a sash like those worn by event hostesses, emblazoned with: [Groomsman on duty. Drinks on Me.]
Audrey shot Lena a sideways glance. “Your doing?”
“He insisted on being the groomsman. This is his job,” Lena retorted, rolling her eyes before looping her arm through Audrey’s to guide her toward Yann. Suddenly, something caught her eye.
Owen slipped an identical sash over Lena’s shoulder, this one reading: [I’m the bridesmaid. Sip at your own risk.]
Lena blinked in surprise. “Wait, when did you even get this?”
“Just now,” Owen said smugly, adjusting his sash. “Best man and maid of honor have to match.”
“You…” Lena pouted.
Yann took Audrey’s hand, leading her toward a cluster of distinguished guests. He carried a champagne flute for appearances. Audrey, empty–handed, smiled and greeted politely as Yann made introductions.
The grand banquet hall held only twenty tables. Every guest was a titan of industry or old–money aristocracy.
Reporters were sequestered in an adjacent room with two tables of their own. Yann didn’t bring Audrey over, but each received a lavish gift bag.
They were permitted to take pictures of the venue setup and describe the wedding process, but photographs of key guests, and especially the bride, were strictly forbidden.
The next day, Audrey’s wedding gown, reportedly worth millions, went viral. But that was a story for another time.
Audrey noticed something else. Her stamina wasn’t what it used to be.
Back when she was managing projects, she could shuttle between construction sites and the office multiple times a day, entertain clients over late
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dinners, and still get up the next morning bursting with energy.
Today, though, she had only gotten up early for the wedding, put on her dress, and sat most of the day.
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After arriving at the wedding venue by car for the ceremony, she rested for half an hour. Yet as soon as she stepped out to great guests, her back already
ached.
But every guest here was important. She wanted to push through and avoid any negative impressions.
She discreetly kneaded her waist. Lena, chatting beside her, missed it, but Yann noticed mid–conversation.
“Go rest,” Yann murmured, a hand steadying her back.
“It’s fine. Only five tables of guests left,” Audrey insisted.
“Be good.” Yann’s tone brooked no argument. With a glance at Sylvie, he signaled for her to escort Audrey away.
Sylvie and Hugo immediately stepped forward to assist.
“Excuse me for a moment.” Audrey nodded to the guests before heading to the lounge. Sinking onto the sofa, she exhaled hard.
Sylvie fetched an ottoman and helped Audrey take off her shoes. “Your feet are swollen.”
