Chapter 1
Concetta had a dirty secret.
She loved Alejandro so deeply that she lost herself, even resorting to dirty tricks.
To get her way, she devised a plan to get him drunk.
In a half-asleep, half-awake state, she gently stroked his eyebrows and eyes, and whispered pleadingly, “Please, love me once.”
Before she could finish her words, he gripped her chin and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. That night, both of them lost control.
Later, she found out she was pregnant with fraternal twins.
Out of a sense of responsibility, he proposed to marry her. But he still hated her for scheming against him and refused to give her any favor.
So she wore an ill-fitting wedding dress and married a man who didn’t have her in his heart at all. Relatives and friends privately said she was pitiful, saying she was just a substitute for her husband’s first love.
On the wedding night, just halfway through, the man was called away by his first love.
She didn’t cry or make a scene.
For years, the man took the children to fly to San Jose to visit his first love.
She kept silent about everything.
Until one day, she heard her son and daughter chatting unintentionally, “If Mom dies, can Aunt Sharon be our mom?”
A chill ran through her body. These were the children she had carried for ten months and worked hard to give birth to.
It turned out that they had long been raised as ungrateful wretches by the man and his first love. She calmly handed over the divorce agreement and left this home without looking back.
Three months ago, the day Concetta McFarland returned from Miami to San Jose was her third wedding anniversary.
She had caught the flu before leaving Miami, and she’d been coughing a lot.
But she hadn’t seen her husband, Alejandro Calderon, and their children for three months, so she insisted on going back.
The Calderons were locals in San Jose.
Two decades ago, their business expanded to Miami, so they moved there. But their old mansion was still in San Jose. When Concetta arrived at the mansion, a piece of news popped up on her phone, which read, “Mr. Calderon spent a lot hosting a bonfire party for the award-winning actress, Sharon McIntosh.”
Her smile died on her lips.
The housekeeper at the Calderon’s old mansion was a local. When she saw the news, she quickly comforted Concetta, “The local media often writes some nonsense. Mrs. Calderon, don’t take it to heart. Mr. Calderon is busy with work tonight.”
Concetta remained silent.
Before coming back, she had deliberately texted Alejandro.
But even now, it was still unanswered.
She wasn’t the sentimental type. But sometimes, she couldn’t help but wonder if Alejandro, the business tycoon in San Jose, was really that busy.
He seriously didn’t even have time to reply to his own wife?
Concetta didn’t wanna dwell on it anymore.
She took off her coat and went to the children’s area to see her son and daughter.
She hadn’t seen them for three months, and they seemed to have grown so much.
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Concetta smiled and squatted in front of the twins, who were playing house.
The two kids built houses with sand and then put two little figures inside. Concetta could tell at a glance that they were the two parents of the family.
She gently asked her daughter, “Sweetie, who are these two?”
Her daughter, Lynne Calderon, was playing with sand. Without even looking up, she answered, “Daddy and Auntie Sharon.”
“No.” Concetta’s son, Hyman Calderon, shook his head and corrected Lynne, “Auntie Sharon lives in my house. Mom lives in
yours.”
“But I want Auntie Sharon to be my mom!” Lynne pouted.
Concetta froze. She rubbed Lynne’s braided hair and asked, “Am I not good enough?”
“You are, but Auntie Sharon and Dad are a better match,” Hyman replied naturally.
Lynne nodded in agreement.
Meanwhile, she frowned and avoided Concetta’s hand, saying,”By the way, Mom, you have got a cold, so you need to stay a bit away from me. Also, don’t mess up my hair. Auntie Sharon did my braids. If they come undone, she’ll be upset.”
Concetta touched her mask, watching her daughter and son excitedly discussing how to make clothes for Sharon, while the little figure representing “Mom” was left in the corner.
Concetta’s heart sank, and a bitter taste rose in her throat.
Their “Auntie Sharon” was Alejandro’s unforgettable love.
The local media described them as the perfect match.
During the years when Concetta and Alejandro were secretly married, Sharon seemed to be the publicly recognized Mrs. Calderon.
But Concetta never expected that, after just a few months apart, even her children grew so close to Sharon.
Concetta lowered her eyes, watching her twins silently for a while. Then, after the nanny came and reminded her, she finally went upstairs to take a shower and rest.
Just then, Alejandro’s secretary rushed over, surprised to see Concetta.
Then he explained, “Mrs. Calderon, Mr. Calderon won’t be back tonight. He asked me to get the gift he prepared for Ms.
Mcintosh.”
“Okay,” Concetta replied.
The secretary left, but Concetta felt a sharp pain in her heart.
Her husband forgot their third anniversary, but he bought gifts for another woman.
She video-called Alejandro, and he soon answered.
“What’s up?” Alejandro asked, sitting in his exclusive lounge.
It was exquisite and luxurious, with dazzling lights, exuding the usual extravagance in San Jose.
Alejandro was wearing a five-figure handmade tailored suit, holding a goblet, half leaning on the sofa.
He didn’t look like a San Jose businessman with his demeanor, no hint of cunningness at all. His expression was noble and indifferent.
He was an existence that countless people looked up to and longed for.
And Concetta had loved him for six years.
Softening her tone, she said, “We haven’t seen each other for a long time. Tonight…”
“Alec…”
Before she could finish, a soft, honeyed voice interrupted from his end of the call.
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It was Sharon.
