Mark’s eyes. Mark’s jawline. Mark’s expression.
There was no denying it.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as we walked down the aisle together.
Security moved toward us, but Tiffany’s father suddenly raised a hand. He recognized me—not as an ex-wife, but as a major investor in one of his newest hotel projects.
Mark looked seconds away from collapsing.
“Liza?” he stammered. “W-who are they? And where did you get that car?”
I didn’t answer him.
Instead, I turned to Tiffany, who had just arrived at the aisle, confusion written across her face.
“Tiffany,” I said clearly so everyone could hear, “I’m here because this man invited me to humiliate me. But I’m actually here to save you.”
I looked straight at Mark.
“You brag about wealth, but you never sent a single dollar for your daughters while we struggled. You left because you believed I couldn’t give you children. Here they are. Your twin daughters. And here is proof of the kind of man—and father—you are.”
Then I delivered the final blow.