Chapter 5 Revelations and Rebranding

# Chapter 5: Revelations and Rebranding

The first night at Ted's guest house was surreal. The sprawling "guest" accommodation was larger than our entire apartment and equipped with more technology than a small research facility. The triplets were beside themselves with excitement, running from room to room, discovering hidden panels and voice-activated features.

"Mommy! The refrigerator talks!" Oliver called from the kitchen.

"And the toilet has buttons!" Ethan added from the bathroom.

Lily, ever the practical one, was already testing the security system. "It has facial recognition and fingerprint scanning. Not bad, but I could probably hack it."

"Please don't," I called out wearily. "We're guests here."

Ted leaned against the doorway, watching their excitement with barely contained joy. "The house is programmed to recognize all four of you. Any preferences or customizations, just tell the system."

"Can I have my room painted purple?" Lily asked immediately.

"Done," Ted nodded. "The walls are programmable displays. Just tell it what color or pattern you want."

The children disappeared again, no doubt to experiment with their new living quarters. I sank onto a plush sofa, the events of the day finally catching up with me.

"You look exhausted," Ted observed, keeping a respectful distance.

"That tends to happen when your carefully constructed life implodes in twenty-four hours," I replied, but there was no real bite to my words.

"I've arranged for all your belongings to be packed and brought here," he said. "Professional movers, very discreet. And I've hired additional security for the compound."

I nodded, too tired to argue about the presumption. "Any news about Margaret's petition?"

His expression darkened. "My lawyers are handling it. With our joint filing, she doesn't have a legal leg to stand on. But that won't stop her from trying other angles."

"What did she say when she found out about the children?"

Ted's jaw tightened. "She called them 'unfortunate complications' and suggested I offer you a settlement to 'disappear again.'"

The casual cruelty didn't surprise me. In the few times I'd met Margaret Preston during my relationship with Ted, she'd made it clear that I was merely a distraction her stepson needed to outgrow before taking his "rightful place" in society.

"She never changes," I murmured.

"No," Ted agreed. "But I have." He hesitated, then added, "I should have stood up to her five years ago. If I had..."

"We can't change the past," I cut him off, not ready for that conversation. "All that matters now is protecting the children."

He nodded, respecting my boundary. "You should get some rest. I'll come by tomorrow to help get everyone settled."

After he left, I checked on the triplets, finding them already adapting to their new surroundings with the resilience only children possess. Lily had programmed her room walls to display a space theme, complete with moving constellations. The boys had opted for an underwater scene and a dinosaur landscape, respectively.

"Do you like it here?" I asked, sitting on the edge of Lily's bed.

She nodded enthusiastically. "Dad says we can build a robot together tomorrow."

The casual way she called him "Dad" still jarred me. "You seem very comfortable with him already."

Lily gave me a look that was far too perceptive for her five years. "He has your picture by his bed. We saw it on the security camera feed."

"You hacked his bedroom security camera?" I gasped, torn between horror and reluctant admiration for their skills.

"We wanted to make sure he was nice," she explained, as if this was perfectly reasonable. "He looks at your picture before he goes to sleep. And he has our birthday marked on his calendar."

I didn't know how to respond to that. The thought of Ted keeping my photo all these years, marking a birthday he didn't even know belonged to his children... it complicated the narrative I'd constructed to protect my heart.

"Just because someone seems nice doesn't mean they are," I said finally. "People are complicated, Lily."

"Is that why you're afraid to like Dad again?" she asked bluntly.

Leave it to my daughter to cut straight to the heart of the matter. "It's not that simple, sweetheart."

"It could be," she insisted. "He signed our contract."

I smiled despite myself. "Let's see how things go, okay? This is a big change for all of us."

The next morning brought another surprise. Ted arrived early, carrying breakfast and newspapers. The headline of the business section made me choke on my coffee: "PRESTON TECHNOLOGIES UNDERGOES SURPRISE REBRANDING."

Below was a photo of the Preston Technologies headquarters with its new sign being installed: "WILONA GREENWOOD'S ATM."

"What did you do?" I demanded, shoving the paper toward him.

Ted had the grace to look slightly abashed. "I may have made an impulsive decision."

"You renamed your entire company? A company worth billions of dollars?"

"Technically, it's just a promotional campaign," he admitted. "Though the board is... concerned."

"Concerned? They must think you've lost your mind!"

The triplets, attracted by the commotion, crowded around to see the newspaper.

"Cool!" Ethan exclaimed. "Dad made his company Mommy's bank!"

Ted smiled at their reaction. "I wanted to make a statement. About priorities."

"By turning a Fortune 500 company into a joke?" I was still struggling to process the sheer audacity of the gesture.

"By showing the world—and you—that none of it means anything compared to family," he replied quietly.

The sincerity in his voice silenced my protest. This wasn't a publicity stunt or a grand romantic gesture for show. This was Ted, the man who had built an empire from the ground up, publicly declaring that empire less valuable than the family he'd just discovered.

"The board will get over it," he continued, more lightly. "Our stock is actually up this morning. Apparently, the public finds the whole situation rather charming."

Before I could respond, my phone rang—an unknown number. I almost declined it, but something made me answer.

"Is this Wilona Greenwood?" a smooth, female voice inquired.

"Yes, who's calling?"

"Margaret Preston. I believe we should talk."

My blood ran cold. I looked at Ted, mouthing "Margaret" silently. His expression hardened immediately.

"Put her on speaker," he whispered.

I complied, placing the phone on the table between us. "I'm listening, Mrs. Preston."

"I'll be direct," Margaret said, her voice as coldly elegant as I remembered. "This situation has gotten out of hand. Ted is clearly experiencing some sort of... emotional crisis. The company rebranding is just the latest evidence."

Ted rolled his eyes but remained silent, letting her continue.

"I'm prepared to offer you a very generous settlement," she continued. "Enough to provide comfortably for you and the children somewhere discreet. In exchange, you'll relinquish any claim to the Preston name or fortune."

"The children are Prestons," I replied evenly. "That's not something I can change, nor would I want to."

"Blood isn't everything, Ms. Greenwood. The Preston legacy is about more than DNA. These children—raised in hiding, without proper education or connections—they're hardly suitable heirs."

I felt a surge of protective rage. "My children are brilliant, kind, and more capable at five than most adults I know. They don't need your legacy."

"Perhaps not," Margaret conceded. "But consider this—if you insist on pursuing this connection, I will be forced to ensure a full investigation into your parenting. Your mysterious disappearance, the false death certificate, the multiple identities... one might question your stability."

The threat hung in the air. Ted, who had been listening with growing anger, finally spoke up.

"That's enough, Margaret. Your custody petition has already been countered. You have no standing here."

A brief silence followed. "Theodore. I should have known you were listening. This misguided loyalty is beneath you."

"What's beneath me is allowing you to threaten the mother of my children," he replied coldly. "The same way you threatened her five years ago."

Another pause. "I don't know what she's told you—"

"I found the accident report," Ted cut her off. "The one that mysteriously disappeared from police records. The black SUV registered to Preston Holdings that ran Wilona off the road when she was pregnant."

My head snapped up in shock. Ted hadn't mentioned finding evidence of the accident.

"Accidents happen," Margaret said dismissively. "Especially when young women drive while emotionally distressed."

"The Preston era under your guidance ends now," Ted stated with quiet authority. "The board meeting tomorrow will be interesting. I've prepared quite a presentation on your management of family assets."

"You wouldn't dare," she hissed. "I built that company after your father died!"

"And I've quadrupled its value since taking over," he reminded her. "The board knows who the real asset is. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be, Margaret."

The call ended abruptly. I stared at Ted, processing what I'd just heard.

"You found proof of the accident?" I asked.

He nodded grimly. "I've had investigators working since I discovered you were alive. Traffic camera footage, witness statements that were never officially recorded... Margaret made it look like a single-car accident caused by driver error, but there's enough evidence to prove otherwise."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," he sighed. "There just hasn't been time for all the conversations we need to have."

The triplets, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during this exchange, finally spoke up.

"Is that lady going to take us away?" Oliver asked, his voice small.

Ted immediately knelt to their level. "Absolutely not. No one is taking you anywhere."

"She sounds mean," Ethan observed.

"She is mean," Lily stated flatly. "We should hack her email."

"No hacking," Ted and I said simultaneously, then shared a brief smile at the parental unity.

"Though I appreciate the thought," Ted added with a wink that earned him a giggle from Lily.

After breakfast, Ted took the children to see his home laboratory as promised, giving me some much-needed time alone to process everything. I wandered through the guest house, trying to imagine our lives here—so different from the modest existence we'd known.

My phone buzzed with a news alert, another headline about Preston Technologies' rebranding. Social media was having a field day with hashtags like #BillionaireATM and #RelationshipGoals. The public was eating up the story of the tech mogul who renamed his company for the long-lost mother of his children.

What they didn't see was the complicated reality behind the headlines. The pain and fear of the past five years. The trust that had been broken and would not easily be repaired.

I was still scrolling through news articles when a soft knock came at the door. Ted stood there, without the children.

"They're with my housekeeper, building a volcano in the kitchen," he explained. "Perfectly safe, completely supervised, minimal chance of actual eruption."

Despite everything, I smiled. "Where did you find a housekeeper who can handle three hacking prodigies?"

"Former NASA engineer. Career change after retirement." He hesitated. "Can we talk?"

I nodded, leading him to the living room. We sat across from each other, the coffee table a neutral zone between us.

"I owe you an explanation," he began. "About five years ago."

"Ted—"

"Please, I need to say this." His voice was strained. "The day I pushed you away was the worst day of my life. Until I thought you died—then that became the worst day."

I remained silent, letting him continue.

"Margaret threatened you directly after my father died. The company was in transition, and I was set to take over. She made it clear that if I didn't comply with her vision—including the merger with Chen Technologies—there would be consequences. I didn't take her seriously at first."

"What changed?" I asked quietly.

"She showed me what happened to my mother."

I frowned in confusion. "Your mother died when you were a child. A car accident."

"That's what I was always told," Ted said bitterly. "But Margaret had evidence—photos, police reports—showing that it wasn't an accident. My father had been planning to divorce her, and suddenly my mother was dead."

The revelation chilled me. "She confessed to murder?"

"Not explicitly. Just made it clear that 'accidents' happen to women who interfere with Preston family plans." He ran a hand through his hair. "I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away. I planned to deal with Margaret legally, gather evidence, then come back to you when it was safe."

"But then I 'died,'" I finished for him.

He nodded. "The accident report came just days after our breakup. I thought—" his voice broke. "I thought she'd killed you anyway, as punishment for my hesitation about the merger. And I believed I was responsible."

The raw pain in his voice broke through some of the walls I'd built. "Why didn't you just tell me the truth?"

"I was arrogant," he admitted. "I thought I could handle it alone, protect you without your knowledge. I didn't want you living in fear." A humorless laugh escaped him. "Instead, I drove you to fake your own death and live in hiding for five years."

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of missed opportunities and misunderstandings between us.

"I found out I was pregnant two weeks after we broke up," I finally said. "I was driving to your office to tell you when the black SUV ran me off the road."

Ted closed his eyes, pain etched on his features. "If I had known..."

"Would it have changed anything?" I asked.

"Everything," he answered without hesitation. "I would have taken you far away, somewhere safe. Company, fortune, name—none of it would have mattered."

I wanted to believe him. Part of me did. But five years of looking over my shoulder, of building a life around protecting my children from the Preston name and all it entailed, couldn't be undone in a day.

"When I woke up in the hospital and found Margaret's note, I knew I had to disappear," I continued. "My friend from college—you remember Alex, the cybersecurity specialist? He helped create the death certificate, the new identity. He's been helping me stay hidden all these years."

"I'll have to thank him," Ted said sincerely. "For keeping you safe when I couldn't."

Another silence fell between us, less tense than before but still filled with unspoken words.

"The company name," I said finally. "It's too much, Ted."

He smiled slightly. "The board agrees with you. But I wanted to make a point."

"Which is?"

"That you—and our children—are more important than any company, any fortune, any name." His gaze held mine steadily. "I meant what I said, Wilona. Everything I have is yours. Not because I'm trying to buy your forgiveness, but because it should have been shared with you all along."

Before I could respond, a small explosion sound came from the main house, followed by children's cheering.

Ted winced. "That would be the volcano. Slightly more eruption than anticipated."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Welcome to parenthood."

"Best job I never knew I had," he replied with a smile. Then, more seriously: "I know I have no right to ask for your trust again. But I'm asking for a chance to earn it. For the children's sake, and maybe... maybe someday for ours."

The honesty in his eyes was undeniable. This wasn't the Ted who had coldly dismissed me five years ago. This was the man I had fallen in love with—the brilliant, passionate person who had been hidden beneath layers of family obligation and fear.

"I'm still processing all of this," I said truthfully. "Finding out you didn't just abandon us... that changes things. But it doesn't erase the past five years."

"I understand," he nodded. "We take it one day at a time."

The sound of running footsteps interrupted us as the triplets burst into the guest house, faces smudged with what appeared to be volcanic ash.

"Mommy! Dad! We made lava!" Ethan announced proudly.

"Real lava!" Oliver added. "Well, not real-real. But it bubbled and everything!"

Lily approached more cautiously, studying our faces as if gauging the emotional temperature. "Were you fighting?"

"No, sweetheart," I assured her. "Just talking about grown-up things."

She nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Dad showed us his lab. It's even better than the one at school. And he has robots!"

"Speaking of which," Ted said, checking his watch. "If you're up for it, I thought we could all go to the company today. There's an educational robotics program we run for employees' children. The triplets might enjoy it."

I hesitated. Going to Preston Technologies—now ridiculously renamed—meant stepping fully into the public eye. But the excited faces of my children made the decision for me.

"Alright," I agreed. "But no press, no photos."

"Agreed," Ted nodded. "Just family day."

Family. There was that word again, so simple yet so complicated in our context.

As we prepared to leave, Lily tugged at my sleeve. "Mommy?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Did you tell Dad about the accident? When we were babies?"

I froze. "What accident?"

Her eyes—so like Ted's—were serious. "The one you didn't think we remember. When I got sick and had to go to the hospital."

My heart sank. I had hoped they were too young to remember that terrifying time—when Lily's heterochromia had led to complications requiring hospitalization. The doctors had mentioned possible genetic factors, treatments that might be needed in the future...

"No," I admitted. "I haven't told him everything yet."

She nodded solemnly. "You should. He's sad that he missed stuff."

Out of the mouths of babes. I knelt down and hugged her tight, marveling at the emotional intelligence of this tiny human I'd created. "You're right. I'll tell him."

As we drove to Preston Technologies in Ted's spacious SUV (complete with built-in booster seats for the triplets), I watched him in the driver's seat—pointing out landmarks to the children, answering their endless questions with patience and enthusiasm. He was a natural father, despite having the role thrust upon him without warning.

The thought I'd been suppressing finally surfaced: Maybe we could be a family after all. Not the way we would have been without the lost years and broken trust, but something new. Something built on honesty and the shared love for three remarkable children.

And as we pulled up to the gleaming building with its ridiculous new sign—"WILONA GREENWOOD'S ATM" in massive letters—I couldn't help but laugh. It was over-the-top, inappropriate for a major corporation, and exactly the kind of grand gesture that the old Ted would never have made.

Maybe he really had changed. Maybe we both had.