The Billionaire Scientist's Revenge

When I slid three paternity test reports across the desk to my husband, he was in the middle of sending a voice note to his side piece. He was boasting about how he was going to "put that crazy bitch in her place."

Seven years of marriage. Three children. All his.

Yet he preferred to believe that the kids were bastards rather than trust hard science.

He screamed that I had forged the tests, that I had lost my mind, and that I’d stoop to anything just to get revenge.

What Julian didn't know was that I wasn't just a mother of three.