She Thought She’d Won—Then His Wife Walked In with Quadruplets (2 of 5)

Until the air shifted.

It started with silence—sharp and unnatural. Heads turned. Phones lifted.

Victor followed their gaze and froze.

At the far end of the hall stood Evelyn. No makeup. No pretense. Her face pale, her shoulders squared. But it wasn’t her that stopped him cold.

It was the four identical boys clinging to her skirt.

Quadruplets. His sons.

The purse slid from his arm and hit the floor. The sound cracked through the stillness.

Evelyn didn’t shout. She didn’t need to. Her eyes held him in place—not with fury, but something worse. Pity.

Cameras flashed. Murmurs swelled.

“Are those his kids?”
“Who’s the other woman?”

Nadia’s grip on her sunglasses faltered. Her polished facade cracked. She took a step back, as if distance could erase her from the scene.