Chapter 165

The matching sneakers gleamed under the store lights as Isabella tugged at Evelyn's sleeve. "What are family shoes?" she asked the sales associate with wide, curious eyes.

"Let me show you, sweetheart." The young woman returned moments later with four pristine white shoeboxes.

She arranged the identical sneakers on the floor—one pair for Dominic, one for Evelyn, and two smaller versions for Alexander and Isabella. "See? The whole family matches. Isn't that special?"

Isabella's face lit up. She turned to Evelyn and whispered, "One for Daddy, one for you, one for me, and one for Alexander."

Alexander studied the wall advertisement featuring a celebrity family in matching outfits. "If we wear these, everyone will know we belong together, right?"

Evelyn's fingers pressed against her temple. The shoes were this season's flagship product, plastered on every display. A single pair cost more than her weekly groceries.

More importantly, she wasn't legally their mother yet.

The sales associate kept pushing. She'd recognized Dominic's expensive watch and tailored suit. Children's whims were golden tickets to wealthy parents' wallets.

Evelyn opened her mouth to clarify she wasn't their mother, but the words dissolved on her tongue. Biologically, these were her children. That truth was unchangeable.

Isabella nudged Alexander. "You ask Daddy. He never says no when you use your sad voice."

Dominic lounged on a leather sofa, flipping through a financial magazine. He looked up when Isabella barreled into him, confiscating his reading material with sticky fingers.

"Done shopping?" He lifted her effortlessly, ignoring the sales staff's lingering stares. The way this stern man cradled his daughter made the associate double-take. His sharp features looked eerily familiar—hadn't she just seen that face on Forbes?

"Daddy, can we get the family shoes?" Isabella buried her face in his shoulder preemptively.

The associate launched into her pitch. Dominic's gaze flicked to Evelyn, who shook her head almost imperceptibly.

Twenty minutes later, four shopping bags landed in the trunk. When Dominic turned, the sight punched him in the chest—Evelyn, Alexander, and Isabella, all wearing identical white sneakers.

A smirk tugged at his lips. To any passerby, they were unmistakably his family. He hadn't worn sneakers since college, always opting for polished leather in the boardroom. Yet here he was, matching them stride for stride.

At 10 AM, Sebastian texted the aquarium tickets. With hours until the 2:40 PM showtime, Alexander tugged Evelyn toward the parking lot. "Can we go to the playground first?"

The pleading looks from both children forced Evelyn to approach Dominic. "They want to play before lunch."

His brow furrowed. "Why do you look like someone stole your favorite pen?"

She gestured to their shoes. "If paparazzi see us like this, the tabloids will have a field day."

Last week's headlines still haunted her—billionaire bachelor spotted with mystery children. Every socialite in the city was now vying to become their stepmother.

Dominic's expression darkened. "Which part bothers you more? Being labeled my mistress, or having the world know you're their birth mother?"

Evelyn hesitated.

He lit a cigarette, exhaling sharply. "Or is it your husband seeing these pictures?"

Jealousy laced his words, that familiar blend of desire and irritation she always provoked.

"That's not—"

"Good." He cut her off, tapping ash away. "Keep those shoes on. Take them off, and you lose visitation rights."

Evelyn gaped.

After the playground, she slipped away to the hospital.

Meanwhile, twenty minutes across town, Maxwell Lockwood's phone buzzed. His mother's cheerful voice chirped, "Remember you promised family time? I bought three aquarium tickets for 2:40. Your father and I are waiting."

The recent argument with his father still hung between them. This was clearly his mother's peace offering.