Mark was a man blinded by the allure of money. Three years ago, he kicked his wife, Rhea, out of their home.
At that time, Rhea was a simple housewife: thin, always in a house dress, with no money of her own. When Mark was promoted to manager at a company and met Angelica (the daughter of a wealthy socialite), he felt that Rhea was no longer on his “level.”
“Rhea, go,” Mark told her then as he threw Rhea’s clothes out the door. “We’re not compatible anymore. Look at you: you smell like cooking. You’re an embarrassment to take to parties. Angelica is the woman who’s right for me.”
Rhea left crying. Penniless. With nowhere to stay. And what Mark didn’t know… Rhea was pregnant that very night.
Three years passed. Mark was about to marry Angelica. It was going to be the Wedding of the Year.
Because Mark wanted to rub it in Rhea’s face how lucky he was and how miserable the life she had left behind must be, he sent her an invitation.
He wrote on the back of the card:
“Come so you can at least eat something decent. Don’t worry, there will be food even for beggars. Come and meet the woman who replaced you.”
Rhea accepted the invitation. She wasn’t angry. She just smiled
Wedding day. It was celebrated at the Grand Palacio Hotel, the most expensive place in the city.
Everything was sparkling. The guests wore formal gowns and tuxedos. Mark stood at the altar, feeling like a king. Angelica was in the preparation room, getting ready.
“Do you think your ex-wife will come?” Mark’s godfather asked.
“Probably,” Mark laughed. “She’s hungry anyway. She’ll definitely come back to get some food to take home. She’ll probably arrive in flip-flops. I’ll seat her in the back, near the kitchen.”
They all laughed. They were waiting for the arrival of a pathetic woman they could mock.
The VIP guests began to arrive. BMWs, Mercedes-Benzes, and Land Cruisers filled the entrance.
But suddenly, chaos erupted outside the hotel lobby.
“Oh my God! Whose car is that?!”
“I’ve never seen one like that in real life!”
Mark and the guests looked out into the enormous glass windows.
Pulled up to the entrance was a midnight blue Rolls-Royce Phantom: a car fit for billionaires and queens. It was worth more than Mark’s entire wedding.
The uniformed driver got out and opened the door.
First came a foot wearing Christian Louboutin heels.
Then a woman appeared.
She wore a red velvet dress designed by a famous Parisian designer. A diamond necklace sparkled around her neck, visible even from afar. Her hair was elegant, her skin flawless and clear, and her aura radiated power.
Era Rhea.
She was no longer the woman who “smelled like cooking.” Now she looked like the CEO of an empire.
Mark froze. “R-Rhea?”
But the surprise wasn’t over.
Rhea turned towards the car and helped two children out.
Two young children. Twins.
They wore matching custom-made tuxedos. They were adorable, like little princes.
Holding their hands, Rhea entered the hotel lobby as if it were a red carpet.
As they walked down the aisle, the guests held their breath.
Not because of Rhea’s beauty.
But not by the twins’ faces.
Their eyes… their noses… the shape of their faces…
They were identical to Mark.
They were like photocopies of Mark as a child. No doubt about it. No DNA test was needed. Those children were the boyfriend’s flesh and blood.
Rhea stopped in front of Mark.
The church fell silent, like a graveyard. Even the priest was frozen in place.
“Hello, Mark,” Rhea greeted him, her voice soft but cold. “Congratulations. Thank you for the invitation. You said I should come so I could eat something nice. So I brought my children.”
Mark paled. His hand trembled as he pointed at the children.
“W-who are they?” he asked hoarsely.
Rhea looked at the twins. “Kids, say hello to Uncle Mark.”
“Hello,” the twins said in unison. Their voices sounded exactly like Mark’s.
“Rhea…” Mark whispered. “Are they my children?”
Rhea smiled bitterly.
“Yes, Mark. The night you threw me out in the rain… when you threw my things away and called me trash… I was pregnant. Two months along.”
The guests gasped.
“Was she pregnant when he kicked her out?!”
“I had nowhere to go,” Rhea continued calmly. “I slept on the sidewalks. I worked as a laundress while my belly grew. I almost lost the babies to starvation.”
“B-but…” Mark stammered. “How did you get rich? How did you raise them?”
“With anger,” Rhea replied. “Anger became my fuel. I worked hard. I sold home-cooked meals. They became popular. I opened a small diner. It grew into a restaurant. And now… I own Rhea’s Cuisine, a restaurant chain with 50 locations nationwide.”
Mark froze.
The restaurant that Angelica always boasted about eating at… belonged to Rhea.
“So thank you, Mark,” Rhea added. “If you hadn’t fired me, I might still be your servant today. Thanks to what you did, I became a multimillionaire.”
Suddenly Angelica appeared, already in her wedding dress, coming out of the elevator.
“What’s going on here?!” he shouted. “Rhea? Why are you here? And who are those children?!”
Angelica looked at the twins… then at Mark.
He paled.
“M-Mark…” she said, trembling. “You have children?!”
Mark couldn’t answer. He was frozen, staring at the twins—seeing himself in them—and at Rhea, now beautiful, rich, and powerful.
Regret crushed him.
Angelica’s family? Deeply in debt. He married her for status.
But Rhea… Rhea was now a self-made billionaire. And they had two children together.
“Rhea…” Mark stepped forward. “They’re my children. I have rights! Let’s get back together! We can be a family! Let’s call off this wedding!”
The guests erupted.
“Is he going to leave his girlfriend?!”
Mark took Rhea’s hand.
She let go immediately.
“Rights?” Rhea laughed. “You lost those rights the moment you chose that woman over the wife who truly loved you.”
He turned to the twins.
“Luke, Liam, have they seen it?”
“Yes, Mom,” the twins replied.
“He is your father. Look at him closely. Because this is the first—and last—time you will see him.”
“Rhea! No!” Mark shouted.
“Let’s go,” Rhea said.
She turned around, her dress billowing gracefully, and walked back towards the door with the cufflinks.
“Rhea! They’re my children! Luke! Liam!” Mark shouted as he ran after them.
But Rhea’s bodyguards—strong as walls—blocked him.
Mark fell to his knees.
Angelica screamed at the altar. “You’re a bastard, Mark! You’re leaving me for your ex?! It’s over!”
He slapped him in front of everyone and ran away.
Mark was left standing in the middle of the church: without a wife, without a rich girlfriend, watching his children and the woman he had rejected drive away in a Rolls-Royce he could never catch.
That day, Mark learned the most painful lesson of all:
The trash you threw away before… was the gold you’re now desperately searching for.
