All Chapters of Married to the Cold Billionaire After Betraying Him: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Five years had passed since Theodore's birth, the Blackwood household now filled with the particular chaos and joy of two school-aged children Robin, seven and fiercely opinionated, already showing early signs of her mother's stubborn determination and her father's careful, analytical mind; Theodore, five and endlessly curious, forever trailing after his older sister with the devoted persistence only a younger sibling could manage. "Mom, Theodore ate my science project," Robin announced one morning, marching into the kitchen with the particular outrage only a seven-year-old could summon over such a catastrophe. "I did not eat it," Theodore protested, cheeks suspiciously full. "I was just testing if the baking soda volcano actually tasted like volcano." Amelia, pouring coffee with the weary efficiency of a mother well-practiced in managing exactly this kind of morning chaos, exchanged an amused glance with Damian across the kitchen island. "Theodore, sweetheart, we don't eat scien

Victor's recovery continued steadily through the following months, his speech gradually returning to something close to normal, his physical strength slowly rebuilding through consistent, dedicated therapy that Amelia watched him approach with a discipline she recognized from his earlier business career, now redirected toward a far more personal goal. "I want to walk Robin down the aisle someday," he confessed to Damian during one particularly grueling session, determination evident despite his obvious exhaustion. "Whenever that day comes, however many years from now. I want to be strong enough to actually be there for it." "You will be," Damian said, genuine conviction in his voice. "I have no doubt about that." The milestone that finally marked Victor's full return to independent living arrived nearly eight months after his initial collapse a quiet Sunday dinner at his own home, hosted for the first time since the stroke, Victor insisting on personally preparing part of the mea

They decided to have the conversation with Theodore two weeks later, choosing a quiet Saturday afternoon rather than waiting for circumstance to force the timing the way it had with Robin, determined this time to control the moment on their own terms. "We want to talk to you about something important," Amelia said, settling onto the living room couch with Theodore, now seven and considerably more easily distracted than his older sister had been at the same age, currently more interested in the toy dinosaur clutched in his hands than any impending serious conversation. "Is this about the contract thing?" Theodore asked, surprising both his parents with his casual, unbothered tone. "Robin already told me. She said you and Dad started as fake married but became real married because you fell in love, and Grandpa Victor did something bad but now he's good." Amelia exchanged a startled glance with Damian, both of them processing the fact that their careful, planned conversation had app

Robin was fourteen when she experienced her first real heartbreak not the dramatic, world-ending devastation of teenage romance gone wrong exactly, but something quieter and more painful in its own way: her closest friend since childhood, a girl named Sophie, had begun drifting toward a different social circle, the kind of gradual, aching separation that felt, to a fourteen-year-old, like genuine loss. "She didn't even save me a seat at lunch today," Robin said, storming into the kitchen after school with the particular fury only adolescent hurt could produce, dropping her backpack with more force than strictly necessary. "We've been best friends since kindergarten, and she just... replaced me. Like I didn't matter at all." Amelia set aside the foundation paperwork she'd been reviewing, recognizing immediately that this moment called for full attention rather than divided focus. "That sounds really painful, sweetheart. Do you want to talk about it?" Robin's frustration cracked sl

Theodore, thirteen now and navigating early adolescence with a different temperament than his older sister's confident directness, had spent years quietly watching Robin's evident passion for the foundation's work without ever expressing much interest in following the same path himself. "I don't think I'm like Robin," he confessed to Damian one evening, the two of them working together on a model rocket kit that had become their regular father-son project over recent months. "Everyone always talks about how she's going to run the foundation someday, or do something meaningful like that. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Damian set down the rocket component he'd been carefully assembling, giving his son his full attention. "You're not supposed to do anything specific, Theodore. Your path doesn't have to look like Robin's, or like mine, or like anyone else's. What actually interests you? What makes you lose track of time when you're doing it?" Theodore considered the question