I brought my four-year-old triplet sons to my billionaire ex-husband’s wedding — and the reaction from his family was colder than ice.

“We’re only here to watch, sweetheart. Keep moving.”

I completely ignored Table 27 near the kitchen entrance.

Instead, I walked directly toward the front row reserved for immediate family members.

A nervous wedding coordinator rushed toward me.

“Ma’am, I apologize, but these seats are reserved for close relatives only.”

I glanced down at my boys before looking back at her.

“I assure you,” I replied coolly, “nobody here is more closely related to the groom than his biological sons.”

Then I sat down gracefully beside my children while the ceremony began collapsing before the music had even started.

Minutes later, Eleanor stormed downstairs.