Triplets for the Billionaire novel (Oliver Gusto) novel Chapter 42

The moment Oliver dashed out of Katherine's room, he went downstairs to the bar area that was beside the living room. He searched through the available alcoholic wine and settled for the strongest one. He reached for it and poured himself a full cup which he gulped down immediately.

Realizing he would be needing more of the drink, he reached for the bottle and the glass cup and made his way upstairs to the room.

Stepping in, he was relieved to know that Beatrice was no longer there. He placed the drink and glass cup on the nightstand after which he reached for his phone in his pocket and dialed a number. He waited patiently, hoping the person on the other end would pick up the call soon enough.

"Did you push me to come here on purpose because you couldn't tell me the truth yourself?"

"What do you mean, Son?" His father's confused voice came through.

"What truth? What are you talking about?"

"Don't play with my feelings, Dad?"

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You and Beatrice didn't discuss any truth before you pushed me away?"

"No, She didn't tell me anything."

"Nice!!!!!!" Ollie sighed.

'"What's going on? Is there anything I'm supposed to know?"

"Yeah! You're a grandfather."

There was silence between the duo, making Oliver regret not doing a video call.

"What grandfather?" Charles asked, trying to make sense of the whole situation.

"Beatrice's daughter has a child? She never mentioned anything about it."

"Yes, She has three children."

"Holy shit! That's wild!!!" Charles voiced out.

"What do you mean? Like she's too young to have kids?"

"No. Not really. If I remember correctly, she should just be a little over 25 so I'm wondering what she's doing with three kids. Perhaps she and her husband can't keep their hands off each other."

Oliver rolled his eyes at his father's theory.

"She had triplets."

"Wow!!! That's huge."

"That's really a lot." Charles stammered.

"I guess you've seen them already."

"That's not the point, Dad. The babies are mine."

Silence.

"What do you mean they are yours?"

Oliver ran his fingers through his hair. "You once saw us naked."

"Ollie," Charles mentioned, not knowing what else to say.

Charles rolled his eyes. "Don't be a pussy."

"I'm not being a pussy."

"You seem so happy about this."

"Am I meant to be sad about it?" Charles said as though he was missing something.

"Dad!!!" Oliver groaned.

"This is not my shit so I got nothing to be pissed about. You and I have worked so hard and have established so many companies and investments. Definitely, someone will have to take over and inherit them all."

"I had you. And it's okay for you to have children, probably build a family, train your kids to be good people and have a better future. Live a better life than mine. Having a family could be the sweetest thing you could ever get from life. It gives you a purpose and a new reason for living."

"You've literally spent 36 years enjoying life and doing shit. How about you take another route and give your new reality a chance?"

"I'm no saint and neither am I the best person to give advice but I think you should take responsibility. I know you're shocked, angry, pissed, devastated, and probably very confused but trust me when I say you'll figure it out. You're smart and you make the best decisions."

"So Beatrice and I would eventually have a lifetime connection. Grandparents to our grandkids. Life isn't so bad after all."

Oliver rolled his eyes. He could feel his father smiling. "Thank God I didn't fall for your kind words. You're just happy that you hit the jackpot.".

"No Son. Stop whining. I'm actually shocked because whether we like it or not, our lives can't remain the same again. Most especially for you. We've just got to face reality and adapt. Me having an everlasting bond with Beatrice is just an icing to the cake.

"I think I'll retire to bed now. I've got a terrible headache."

"Be good and call me if you need anything."

Oliver rolled his eyes at his father's sweet words as he cut the call.