Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress

A sharp, piercing cry sliced through the sterile air of the delivery room, followed immediately by another.

Chloe Hayes's vision swam. Sweat pasted strands of hair to her temples. The exhaustion was a physical weight, pressing down on her bones, but the sound of her babies' cries was a tether to life. Tears, hot and thick, blurred the already hazy lights above her.

With a kind expression on her face, the midwife placed the two warm little babies on Chloe's chest. The weight was surprisingly solid. A tiny, thumping heartbeat pulsed against her own exhausted one. A wave of love, so fierce it felt like a physical blow, crashed over her, stealing what little breath she had left.

The midwife 's voice a soothing balm. "You gave birth to a pair of adorable boy and girl twins . Both perfectly healthy."

She smiled weakly, trying to look at the two babies surrounded by the midwives.

Outside the delivery room, a nurse held the baby and cried out, "Where's Chloe Hayes's family? Where are Chloe Hayes's parents?"

She called out again and again, but no one responded.

On the hospital bed, Chloe's face turned even paler at the sound.

Had Julian really not come?

Even though they were divorced, he was still the child's biological father. So before entering the delivery room, she called him.

She lay in the hospital bed, completely exhausted and weak.

The doctor and nurse quickly took her to the ward.

However, she wasn't taken to the private VIP ward that Julian had promised her, but rather an ordinary multi-person room.

There were many people in the ward. Besides her, there were also pregnant women lying in the other three beds. Each of them was attended to by several family members.

Some were taking care of their wives, some were leaning over the baby cribs to watch their children, and there were also new dads holding their babies and comforting them. Everyone had a happy smile on their face.

This scammer. It doesn't matter where she lives, but has he ever thought about the children at all? A sense of icy humiliation swept through her entire body.

Chloe gave birth suddenly, and now there's no one to take care of her. She's unable to care for the baby on her own, and the nurses can't help all the time. So, she decided to call Julian for help.

A nurse handed Chloe her phone. Her trembling fingers fumbled across the screen until she found Julian Sterling's name in the contacts. The sharp-looking business photo he used as his profile picture seemed to mock her from the screen.

She took a deep, shaky breath and pressed the call button.

The sound that answered wasn't his voice. It was the cacophony of a party-loud music, the clinking of glasses, a swell of laughter.

Then, his voice, sharp and impatient. "Chloe? What is it? I'm busy."

The coldness in his tone was a familiar ache. She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the words out. "Julian, the babies... have been born. "

A beat of silence on the other end. Just long enough for a sliver of hope to flicker in her chest.

Then it was extinguished. "Okay. Send the details to my assistant."

Before she could form a reply, a woman's laugh, high and melodious, echoed close to the receiver. It was a laugh she recognized from countless celebrity news segments. Amelia Hayes.

Julian's voice returned, layered with a dismissive politeness that was worse than outright anger. "I have to go. We're celebrating Amelia's new movie deal."

The line went dead.

The dial tone buzzed in her ear, a relentless, mechanical sound that felt like it was drilling into her skull. Chloe's hand fell limp, the phone slipping from her grasp onto the starchy white sheets.

The tears finally came. Not loud, hysterical sobs, but silent, wracking tremors that shook her entire body. She curled onto her side, facing the wall, pressing her face into the thin pillow to muffle the sound. She couldn't bear the thought of the woman on the other side of the curtain hearing her.

The curtain was pulled back on the other side of the room. Visiting hours. A boisterous family spilled in, their happy chatter filling the small space. Chloe pulled her own curtain tighter, a flimsy barrier against their joy.

But the voices carried.

"Look at the one in the next bed," a middle-aged woman said, her voice a stage whisper. "So pitiful. Gave birth and her husband isn't even here."

A younger girl replied, "Isn't that Chloe Hayes? The one who married into the Sterling family."

"That's the one!" the woman confirmed, her voice dropping conspiratorially. "The papers are saying Julian Sterling is going to divorce her for that actress, Amelia Hayes."

"I heard Amelia's pregnant too," the girl added. "This is going to be some drama."

Each word was a fresh cut. Pity and malice, a cruel cocktail served by strangers. Chloe clamped her hands over her ears, but she couldn't block them out. She squeezed her eyes shut, the darkness behind her eyelids a welcome relief.

A gentle squeak of wheels broke through her misery. A nurse was pushing a clear, plastic bassinet towards her bed, then another. The two sleeping infants were placed beside her.

Chloe's sobs caught in her throat. She pushed herself up, her sore muscles protesting, and gazed at her children.

Their faces were so new, so perfect. The boy had her brow, a serious little frown even in sleep. The girl had a delicate nose that was an exact replica of Julian's.

She reached out a hesitant finger, her nail bitten and short, and gently stroked her daughter's cheek. The skin was impossibly soft.

In that moment, something shifted inside her. A foundation of steel began to form where only rubble had been. She was no longer just a wife, waiting for a man who would never love her.

She was a mother.

She wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand. Her gaze, once filled with despair, now held a new, hard-edged resolve. For them. For these two tiny, helpless beings, she had to be strong.

She picked up her phone again. Not to call Julian. She scrolled through her contacts, a desperate search for a friend, a lifeline. Her finger swiped past business contacts for the Sterling family, past numbers for caterers and florists from a life that was no longer hers.

The scrolling stopped. The screen glowed with the names of people who were not her people. She had spent years trying to fit into Julian's world, and in the process, she had erased her own.

She was utterly, completely alone.