Married to My Protector: The Patriarch's Love

“My office monitor, usually a serene portal to the grand Vance estate gates, offered a peaceful view of my perfectly ordered life. As Mrs. Vance, managing this dynasty was my daily routine, a far cry from my past as a script supervisor. Today, the screen showed him: Ethan Vance Jr., the man who shattered my world three years ago. Three years since he' d abandoned me at our Malibu wedding, turning my fairytale into tabloid fodder. He looked almost the same, carelessly handsome, but beside him stood Chloe Monroe, her hand possessively resting on a visibly pregnant stomach. My intercom buzzed with the news: "Mrs. Vance, Mr. Ethan Vance Jr. is at the gate, demanding entry." He strode in, still full of that entitled swagger, proclaiming his pregnant girlfriend would bear the true Vance heir. Then, with breathtaking audacity, he smirked and demanded I "make him some coffee," as if I were a mere servant to be dismissed and ordered. He truly believed he could waltz back in and claim what he considered "his," including a subservient me, as if no time had passed. The sheer insolence of his return, his assumption that I was still the heartbroken girl he' d scorned, was almost comedic. My heart, however, thudded with a cold, hard resolve, not the pain of old wounds. He stood there, completely oblivious, ready to strip me of everything he thought I had. But he had absolutely no idea about the incredible, unexpected life I had built since he walked away. Just as his arrogant pronouncements threatened to consume the opulent living room, the immediate future of the Vance legacy ran towards me. Small feet pitter-pattered from the hallway, followed by a cheerful shout: "Mommy! Mommy, can we go to the park?" A two-year-old boy, with a shock of dark hair and the unmistakable Vance family blue eyes, ran straight into my waiting arms. "This," I calmly stated, looking directly into Ethan Jr.'s now horrified face, "is your half-brother, Leo Vance."”