On the night of the annual family dinner, my husband, who openly disliked children, casually mentioned how “cute” a cousin’s toddler was. I took it as a sign. A signal. I immediately ordered ten packets of expensive, complex fertility herbs to regulate my body. I spent three grueling months dragging him through a high-intensity baby-making routine. My abdomen remained stubbornly, cruelly empty. The truth dropped like a bomb: I found his vasectomy report tucked away in his bedside drawer. Right next to it, I found photographs of his secret twins. A boy and a girl. Four years old. The resulting fight was cataclysmic. 1 The older generation and our friends rallied around me, urging caution. “Carlisle finally agrees to an heir, why make a scene? The Carlisle Group needs a successor.” “The children must have been an accident. Damon probably felt obligated. Why not just raise them as your own, Anna?” I looked at Damon Carlisle, my husband of three years, who stood before me—aristocratic, cold, and emanating the severe authority of a man used to getting his way. “I will agree not to divorce you, on one condition: you never see them again. That is my maximum concession.” Damon stood up, slowly removed his wedding ring, and placed it gently on the glass coffee table. “Vera suffered the ten months of carrying my children. I am their father. It is my responsibility to care for them.” “She won’t challenge your position as Mrs. Carlisle. Why are you being so relentlessly aggressive?” Hearing his cold logic ripped the last remnants of hope from my chest. I finally abandoned the fantasy of things ever returning to normal. “If that is the case, then we are getting a divorce.” BAM! A teacup smashed near my feet. My father, Mr. Welles, his face mottled purple with rage, pointed a trembling finger at me. “Dare to divorce him, and I will break your legs!” “Since when is a small scandal not commonplace in the upper echelons of society? Why must you be so dramatic?” My mother-in-law rose to pull my father back, but her eyes held a distinct look of displeasure when they met mine. “Anna, you are a Welles, a daughter of a respectable family. How can you stoop to the level of those lower-class women who fight over men?” “Look at the chaos you’re causing. If this gets out, it will damage the Carlisle reputation.” The voices of everyone in the room became a chorus of disapproval. My tears finally streamed down my face and landed on my hands as I asked the question that still burned worst of all: “Damon, why did you have a vasectomy behind my back?” Years ago, we had agreed that if I accidentally became pregnant, and he still didn’t want a child, I would respect his decision. I had thought, naively, that a surprise might trigger his paternal instinct, that his preferences might change. But for three years, there was never a single accident. I spent two years believing it was my body, enduring endless appointments and drinking bitter herbs. I was trying to fix myself, when he had already made me redundant. A flicker of guilt crossed Damon’s face. He let out a heavy sigh. “Anna, I had no choice.” He walked over and gently put his arm around my shoulder, his voice now a low, earnest murmur. “Vera grew up poor. She suffered so much abuse and hardship. How could she compete with a Welles heiress? And how could her children ever compete with one of yours?” “I didn’t want them to suffer the same way she did, to be pointed at and humiliated.” “We’ve been in each other’s lives since we were kids, Anna. Surely you can understand my position.” He spoke of the unfortunate necessities of the world, asking me to accept his arrangement. In my heart, all I heard was a tidal wave of shock and revulsion. He loved her deeply enough to plan their entire future—a future that required him to betray me. I was nothing more than a sacrifice for his true love. I shoved his arm away, taking three shaky steps back. I looked at him with utter desolation. “Damon Carlisle, you are truly disgusting.” “We are done. I refuse to share a life with a liar.” Damon’s face hardened, the shame immediately masked by anger. “Anna Welles, as children of elite families, we all have obligations. Why can’t you be gracious and accommodating?” “You were born with the wealth and privilege Vera will never have. I have given you the status and respect of being Mrs. Carlisle. She just wants to be a simple, ordinary woman. Do you really need to force me to abandon her?” 2 He looked past me to my father. “Dad, I don’t want this affecting the merger. Take Anna home and talk some sense into her.” He then grabbed his car keys and strode out, calling his mother and the other guests with him. He was even kind enough to close the door behind him. Instantly, my father’s roar was deafening. “You ungrateful girl! Haven’t you embarrassed me enough? Now I have to take you home for a ‘talking to.’ How did the Welles family raise such a coarse, disrespectful person?” I scoffed. “Poor genetics, I suppose. I’m not just coarse, I’m selfish and cold-blooded, too.” He married into my family and then kept a mistress and had secret children, driving his wife to suicide. I was only asking for a divorce. My father was clearly worse than me. My father flew into a rage. “Anna Welles, you are just as narrow-minded and foolish as your mother! Why can’t you just live a good life? Do you have to cause chaos just to feel satisfied?” He glared at me, his voice icy and menacing. “If you won’t think of yourself, think of Franklin. He’s in his senior year. He’s always been an honor student. You don’t want to force him to drop out of high school, do you?” My shoulders slumped. I collapsed onto the sofa. I couldn't gamble my younger brother's future against them. When our mother jumped, he was barely one year old. He was so tiny, just holding my hand and laughing with those clear eyes, having no idea he would never see her again. Since he turned one, he’d been poisoned three times, bitten by a snake, had his ribs broken in a car accident, and almost suffocated from a severe allergic reaction. I had protected him through hell and back. How could I destroy his one chance at a future? My father ultimately slammed the door shut and left. When Damon returned late that night, he found me sitting on the floor, weeping and blurry-eyed from too much liquor. He said nothing, simply picking me up and moving me to the sofa, then taking a cloth to gently wipe my face. He brought me a glass of lemon water and held me, feeding it to me, sip by sip. For a brief, sharp moment, I was transported eighteen years back, to when our affection was true. My mother had just died, and my father immediately moved his mistress in. They forced me to kneel and call her ‘Mother.’ I hid in the attic and cried until my throat was raw. Damon was the one who held me, wiping my face and feeding me water, just like this. He held me and told me he had me, that everything would be okay, and to trust him. The thirteen-year-old boy then knelt before his own father and begged for a shred of protection for me, strategically using the Welles family cooperation to prove my worth. How could I not have loved that boy? The brief, artificial warmth was shattered by a long, heavy sigh. “Anna, I’m not leaving you. The twins were truly just an accident.” I clung to his neck, my voice breaking. “Damon, you know I can’t accept this. I won’t end up like my mother, struggling and suffering until I break.” “Please, send them overseas. We can support them financially forever.” “Why didn’t you make her get an abortion? Why didn’t you talk to me when you suddenly wanted a child?” After a long, cold silence, Damon finally spoke, his tone utterly indifferent. “The Carlisle-Welles merger grand opening is tomorrow. Prepare yourself. You must not be absent. It will only cause speculation.” Watching his tall, unyielding frame walk away, my heart sank to the bottom of the ocean. The next day, Damon sent over a gorgeous gown and the expensive Queen’s Chandelier necklace he had bought at auction. His secretary nervously watched me. I changed and applied a perfect, polished coat of makeup. Damon was right. The business cooperation could not be destroyed. Franklin wasn't grown up yet. I still had a responsibility to reclaim everything my maternal grandfather left behind. 3 The grand opening ceremony was grand. All the Oakwood Hills elite were present. Stepping onto the grounds of the exclusive estate, my eyes landed immediately on Vera Jenkins. She was wearing a pearl-white silk dress, looking demure and graceful, exuding an air of gentle, maternal warmth. Damon had his arm around her waist, navigating the room and greeting guests. Vera smiled politely, perfectly composed. My mother-in-law was holding the little boy, chatting happily with a group of society matrons. Everyone complimented the child, calling him "a blessing," "a future titan of industry." The moment I stepped into the ballroom, the noise instantly died. Every single eye swiveled to me. Damon released Vera, walked over to me with an unnerving ease, and took my hand. “Anna, come see the baby. He really is adorable.” He led me to his mother and gently placed the child in my arms. Looking at the healthy, plump baby, a wave of bitter longing washed over me. I gently touched his soft cheek. If only he were mine. I knew I could have given Damon a child, too. The surrounding looks were a dizzying mix: pity, thinly veiled ridicule, and cold detachment. Vera quickly rushed forward, her hands outstretched, a hint of urgency in her expression. “Sister, Astra is heavy. Please let me hold him.” I froze, looking at her in disbelief. “You… you named him Astra?” “Astra Carlisle. Damon said it symbolizes the way our hearts are forever linked.” A piercing cry erupted. My hands suddenly dropped. I was falling into an endless abyss, consumed by a paralyzing cold. He gave our name to them. He wanted their hearts to be forever linked. Astra. I was eighteen, celebrating my birthday, the first night I gave myself to him. He had held me tight and vowed that our first child would be called Astra—a testament to our souls being eternally bound. Before I could voice the furious question that was choking me, a sharp smack echoed through the vast room. I blinked, realizing I had dropped the baby. He was on the floor, a trickle of blood seeping from his forehead. Damon was instantly kneeling, clutching the child, his eyes blazing with pure hatred directed at me. Beside him, Vera was sobbing hysterically. “Sister, even if you hate my children, you can’t drop him in public like this! He is Damon’s son, too. How could you be so cruel?” She struggled to pull the baby from Damon’s grasp. “Damon, please, just let me go! I love you, and I was willing to be a secret, but I cannot risk my children’s lives! How can she do this? Is it just because I have no one to protect me? Can she just try to kill Star right here, in front of everyone?” Her cries were heartbreaking. Damon was frantic, holding both her and the screaming child tightly. “Vera, look at me. Astra is our baby. I will never let anyone hurt him. I love you both, and I will protect you with my life.” “Don’t worry. I will give you justice. I will make her kneel and apologize to you. I will give you whatever guarantee you need.” Every word Damon spoke was a stab to my heart. He was demanding that I, his wife, bow and apologize to his mistress, and give her a guarantee. What about my guarantee? Was it all just a sick joke? The image of a brilliant, hopeful young man flashed in my memory: “Anna, I love you. I will protect you forever. Anyone who tries to hurt you, I will fight to the death.” Damon grabbed the collar of my gown and with a sudden jerk, flung me toward Vera. “Kneel! Apologize to Vera and Astra.” “And swear on your late mother’s memory that if you ever try to cause trouble or harm Vera and her children again, your mother’s soul will suffer the eternal torment of fire and agony in the afterlife!” I stared at Damon in horror. My mother had treated him like her own son. He had once knelt at her grave, calling her ‘Mom.’ Now, for his mistress, he was willing to curse her so viciously. 4 I wiped the tears from my face and straightened my spine. “Damon Carlisle, I will never kneel and apologize to your mistress. You will have to kill me first.” Damon’s eyes narrowed. He motioned with his hand. Two bodyguards rushed forward, seizing my shoulders. One delivered a powerful kick to the back of my knees, sending me crashing to the floor in front of Vera. I didn’t get a chance to even lower my head before the noise of the crowd surged. “Oh my God, the Welles heiress is kneeling to the mistress. That’s a new low for women.” “She might as well die. Live any longer, and it’s just public disgrace. Her late father must be rolling in his grave.” I raised my chin stubbornly, my eyes bloodshot as I looked at Damon. “Damon, how could you forget the promise we made under the Sycamore tree?” Damon’s gaze was hard and unrelenting. He squeezed my jaw with brutal force. “Anna Welles, I have never forgotten. You are the one who is aggressive, insisting on driving Vera and the twins away. Today, you deserve this lesson.” He forced my head down, slamming my forehead hard against the marble floor. Warm blood immediately trickled down my face and into my eyes, blurring my vision. As Damon prepared to smash my head down a second time, a small, thin figure surged forward. He punched Damon squarely in the face. “Don’t you dare hurt my sister!” Through the haze of my own blood, I saw my brother, Franklin Alexander, standing between us, his body trembling, his arms wide open in fierce protection. Damon recovered his stance, wiped the blood from his lip, and looked at Franklin with cold contempt. “Move.” “No.” “Damon, you can’t do this to my sister! You promised you would protect her forever! Why are you making her kneel to this… this vixen?” Damon’s eyes narrowed further. He spoke in a chillingly low voice. “Franklin, you’re too young to understand. I’m doing this for your sister’s own good, to stop her from harming innocent people.” “That’s a lie! My sister would never hurt anyone! You’re framing her!” “I’m eighteen now, Damon. I’m not a child. If you won’t protect my sister, I will.” The boy’s young face was contorted with grief and outrage. He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me to my feet and away. Damon waved his hand. The bodyguards blocked our path. “Anna, you must face the consequences of your actions. You haven’t apologized to Vera.” Franklin furiously pushed at the bodyguards, but they seized him and pinned his arms behind his back. Seeing them grab my arm, the boy screamed. “Don’t touch her! I’ll apologize! I’ll take the beating, whatever you want!” With that, Franklin collapsed to the ground, facing Vera, and began to slam his head against the floor in a desperate kowtow. “I’m sorry! I’ll pay for my sister’s mistake! Don’t do this to her! She’s a woman! Don’t humiliate her!” Tears sprang from my eyes. I kicked out violently at the bodyguard’s leg, scrambling forward to pull Franklin into my arms. “Franklin, I’m so sorry. I failed you. I’m useless. I’m so sorry…” Franklin’s tears soaked my neck. His voice was hoarse and broken by sobs. “Sis, I’m the one dragging you down. I’m quitting school. Let’s just leave.” The guests watched with complicated expressions. In the upper class, everyone was an expert strategist; they all knew the truth about the Welles family history. But no one dared to speak up and risk offending a powerful business partner. Seeing the tension mount, my father finally stepped forward, his voice cold and commanding. “You embarrassing trash! Fighting over a man and ruining a great day for the merger!” He raised his hand and slapped Franklin hard across the head. “You’re supposed to be a man! Instead of advising your sister, you join her foolish chaos! How can I ever hand the Welles Group over to you looking like this?”
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