Five Childless Years:My Husband's Secret Family Exposed

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At my twenty-fourth birthday banquet, my fianc's sponsored girl had a miscarriagebecause she drank the fruit wine I'd given her.

That was the day I learned the filthy truth: they'd slept together.

I insisted on breaking off the engagement. Damian Ashford dropped to his knees right in front of me, with both sets of parents watching, and begged me to forgive him.

Under the weight of their persuasionand the five-billion-dollar partnership between our familiesI caved.

Three days after the wedding, he was in a car accident. It damaged him below the waist.

To protect his dignity, I told the world I was childfree by choice. That I simply didn't want children.

Four years later, on a foreign variety show, I saw my husbandDamian Ashfordplaying games with a little boy.

The investigation that followed ripped everything wide open. Four years ago, Damian had set up a home overseas with Edna Fox. They had a son together. And Edna was pregnant again.

I stormed into his office to confront himbut stopped short when I heard him talking to someone inside.

"You faked a car accident and didn't touch her for four years, all to punish her for one glass of wine she gave Edna? You're something else." That was David Walker's voice.

Damian was lounging in his executive chair, a cold smirk curling his lips.

"She made Edna miscarry. This is her lesson."

"Once Edna's son is older, I might bring him back and let her play mother. She's got the Ashford name and a free sonshe should be grateful."

My entire body went numb, as though I'd been plunged into a vat of ice. Four years of consulting every doctor and praying at every temple. Four years of swallowing my humiliation, crawling on top of him, trying to coax his body to respond. All of itpunishment. For one glass of wine.

Fine. Then this arranged marriage could go straight to hell.

The conversation inside continued.

"Damian, your wife's been genuinely good to you. A pampered heiress, and she spent years tracking down specialists, even knelt her way up a mountain to pray for your recovery."

David paused, his tone careful. "Don't you think this is a little cruel? Making her live like a widow her whole life, growing old with no children? It's a bit..."

A derisive scoff cut him off.

"That's the price she pays for hurting Edna."

"So what if she's some rich man's daughter? Does that give her the right to bully someone with no one to turn to? I'm letting her taste what it feels like to sufferso she never thinks she can push people around again."

David sighed.

"Aren't you worried she'll find out and tear the whole marriage apart?"

Damian's gaze sharpened instantly. "David. You didn't go soft and tell her, did you?"

David shook his head and stared down at his tea, saying nothing.

Damian's voice turned glacial.

"Don't ruin this for me. I spent six months planning every detail."

"I promised Edna I'd never touch that woman again. Promised her children would be my only heirs. I won't let Edna down."

Every word dripped with warningas if the only catastrophe he could imagine was his precious Edna being disappointed.

My mind dragged me back to those humiliating nights. How I'd pressed myself against him, mimicking techniques I'd found in videos, desperate to arouse him.

How he'd turned red-faced and rigid, clenching every muscle to suppress his body's response.

I'd thought he was flushed with shame and frustration. He was gritting his teeth to stay faithful to his mistress.

I stood outside that door, listening, and every word drove through my chest like a shard of ice.

It wasn't just betrayal. It was crueltydeliberate, calculated, and vicious.

Four years of high-society whispers. Four years of swallowed pride. I'd endured all of it with my jaw locked shut.

My knees still bore the scars from kneeling at temple steps, praying for his recovery. On rainy days, they ached.

I remembered draping a blessed sachet around his neck with trembling, reverent hands.

And what had he been doing?

Rolling between the sheets with his sponsored girl, lost in ecstasylaughing at how stupid I was. How pitiful.

Then he let his friends size me up with those pitying, mocking stares.

I wiped my tears, turned, and walked out. The first thing I did was cancel the appointment I'd made for Damian with the American specialist.

The receptionist on the other end sounded bewildered.

"Ms. Calloway, you pulled every string imaginable to get Professor Kemistry on board. Why the sudden cancellation?"

I let out a bitter laugh.

"Because my husband made a full recovery. Even fathered a big, healthy baby boy."

That evening, when Damian came home, I nearly lost control. I wanted to lunge at him, tear him apart.

I wanted to grab him by the collar and demand answers. Why? Why would you deceive me like this?

Was it really all because I'd handed Edna a glass of fruit wine?

Four years. Four years of agonygrief bleeding into worry, worry hardening into resignation. I'd made peace with spending the rest of my life by his side in celibacy. And all of it had been a joke.

I watched Damian stroll into the living room as if nothing in the world weighed on him. He pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss to my forehead.

"Babe, that new technique you learned tonightwhy don't we try it? Maybe it'll work this time."

My gaze locked onto his face, searching for even a flicker of guilt, a crack in the composure.

In the end, I clenched my jaw and nodded.

"Fine."

Later that night, Damian showered and stretched out on the bed, bare. I'd changed into what he requesteda scrap of fabric that belonged in a nightclub, not a bedroom.

He arched a brow and gestured for me to get on my hands and knees.

A cold smile tugged at my lips. I studied his expression, followed the line of his gazeand finally saw it.

On the massive wedding portrait across from the bed, right where his eyes were in the photo, a faint pinprick of light.

It hit me all at once. That was why he'd been so willing to "try" all those times.

Before I could react, Damian grabbed my wrist and pulled me down.

The thought of who might be watching on the other side of that tiny camera

A wave of nausea slammed into me. I gagged, and everything came up, splattering across Damian's chest.

He recoiled instantly, face twisted in disgust, shoving me away as he leapt off the bed.

"Serena! If you're that repulsed by me, just say so. You don't have to be this revolting about it."

"From tonight on, you sleep in the guest room. No need to force yourself anymore."

Beforethe old meI would have swallowed my pride, coaxed him back, and submitted to the humiliation all over again. Anything to keep trying.

Not this time.

I stood. Looked at him with eyes drained of everything. Said one word"Fine"and walked toward the door.

Damian froze.

Then a teacup exploded against the floor behind me.

"Serena! I knew ityou never really loved me. It's only been four years and you're already disgusted with me. Aren't you?"

I stopped mid-step. Turned slowly. The smile on my face was razor-thin and aimed at myself.

"Damian. Doesn't it disgust you?"

He stared at my expressionthe quiet, knowing look in my eyesand something in him faltered. The fury on his face seized up. His gaze darted sideways, unable to hold mine.

"What are you talking about? We're husband and wife. There's nothing disgusting about that."

I slammed the door shut. I couldn't stand the sight of him for one more second.

The man I'd once admiredall that cool, aristocratic composurewas nothing but a mask over something vile and shameless.

The next morning, the moment he left for work, I called a private investigator.

When the PI laid the files and footage in front of me, my legs gave out. I sank into the chair, and for one blinding moment, all I wanted was a knife.

Damian Ashford. How could you do this to another human being? Aren't you afraid of burning in hell?

Fine. Every sin you've committedI will repay double.

I shut myself inside the house for three days straight. I couldn't face those videos. I couldn't bear to imagine how many people had already seen them.

When Damian finally came home, he found me slumped by the window, reeking of liquor, too drunk to stand.

He walked over and pulled me into his arms with a sigh.

"Serena, I'm sorry. Has someone been running their mouth again? If it's too much for you... we can get a divorce."

He looked so pained. So devoted.

I calmly pushed him away and stared straight into his eyes, searching for even a shred of genuine sorrowsome small proof that all the years I'd poured into this marriage had been worth something.

"Damian, I haven't done anything wrong. Why are you doing this to me?"

Damian froze for a moment, then his eyes reddened with what looked like hurt.

"Serena, I'm not... a real man. I understand if you look down on me. But I really don't want to leave you." His voice cracked, and he pulled me close, burying his face against me as he cried.

In that moment, I caught a glimpse of the Damian from ten years ago.

Back then, he followed me everywhere, calling me his "little Serena," pressing the finest pastries into my hands. When he took me hiking, he carried me on his back all the way to the summit.

Under a sky blazing with stars, the boy's eyes shone brighter than any of them. He held my hand so tightly it almost hurt. "Serena, I never want to leave younot in this lifetime. Let's be together forever, okay?"

I'd believed we would have that forever.

Until the day Damian and I went traveling in the mountains and came across a fourteen-year-old girl named Edna Fox.

Several men had her pinned to the ground, trying to hoist her onto the back of a three-wheeled cart. She was on her knees, thrashing, begging through sobs.

"Dad, please don't give me away. I can go up the mountain to chop firewood, I can work the fields, I can earn money"

Tears and dust caked her dark, gaunt face. Her hair was a wild, brittle tangle.

From the murmurs of the onlookers, I pieced together what was happening: her own father was selling her to a fifty-year-old man for enough cash to build a house.

Pity surged through me. I shoved the men back and pulled her behind me.

After a heated argument, Damian handed over all the money we'd budgeted for the trip to Edna's father. He saved her. He promised to sponsor her education.

What none of us expected was that the moment Edna graduated from college, she'd come straight to Riverton to find Damianand stay by his side as his assistant.

She played the victim at every turn, meek and cowering whenever I was around, as though I were the one mistreating her.

More than once, Damian told me Edna was timid by nature, that I should soften my tone with her, be gentler.

I assumed she was simply the kind of person who couldn't handle social situations. It never occurred to me that she'd been carefully, methodically digging a trap beneath my feet.

Until my birthday.

I handed her a glass of fruit wine, meaning nothing by it.

"Edna, let me introduce you to some friends. You should spend more time with them."

She took two sipsthen clutched her stomach and screamed that I'd forced her to drink, that I'd done it on purpose to hurt her.

She wailed until her voice gave out, doubled over and crumpling into Damian's arms. The look he turned on me was laced with venoma poisoned arrow aimed straight at my heart. He said nothing. He just scooped her up and ran for the hospital.

I was furious that day too. I fought with Damian, screamed at him, demanded we call off the engagement.

In the end, his pleading and pressure from both sets of parents wore me down. I was naive enough to believe the whole thing would simply blow over.

But the seed of hatred had already taken root.

Damian decided I had deliberately killed his child, and he set out to punish me for the rest of my life.

I lifted my hand, numb and detached, and rested it on top of his head. A cold laugh escaped my lips.

"Damian, if you had to choose between me and Ednawho would you not be able to leave?"

Panic flashed through his eyes.

"Serena, why bring her up out of nowhere? Did someone say something to you?"

"She and I haven't been in contact for a long time. Don't overthink this."

I lowered my gaze, wiped the tears from my face, and stood up without a word.

"Nobody said anything."

"I was just feeling sentimental. If I hadn't let Edna drink that fruit wine back then, maybe your child would already be four years old."

Damian's expression visibly tightened. His spine went rigid, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them.

"Serena, how could I possibly have a child with that worthless girl? I'd rather die alone than have a child with her."

I let out a cold laugh, bracing myself as I slowly made my way toward the bedroom. My fingers were clenched around the message Edna had just sent me.

"Serena, do you know what Damian says about you? The high-and-mighty heiressworse than a whore."

"Oh, and to prove his devotion to me, every time you stripped down to seduce him, he made sure to video-call me. I figured I shouldn't let it go to waste, so I set up a livestream. Over a million viewers tuned in. Everyone said you really know how to put on a show."

Damian Ashford, if you betray me, I will not rest. I will make you pay for every last thing.

I deleted every message in silence. No confrontation. No screaming.

Because I knewif screaming solved problems, the world wouldn't be ruled by tigers. It would be ruled by donkeys.

The five-year joint venture between our families wrapped up on schedule.

I deliberately chose Blueberry Hills Estate and invited every relative, friend, and business partner to celebrate together.

That day, I prepared a special gift for Damian. He grinned and asked what I had in store.

A set of lingerie? Some new trick I'd learned?

I just smiled and told him it would be something he'd never forget.

Crystal chandeliers cast prismatic light across the gala as glasses clinked and laughter swelled. Damian took my hand and led me onto the stage.

Fireworks burst overhead, marking the success of the Calloway-Ashford partnership.

I smiled as I accepted the contract, securing the profits that rightfully belonged to my family.

As thunderous applause filled the room, I took the microphone and swept my gaze across every face in the crowd.

"Distinguished guests, dear friends and familytoday isn't just the successful conclusion of the Calloway-Ashford partnership. It's also the fifth anniversary of my marriage to Damian."

"Tonight, I have a very special gift for him. I'd like everyone here to witness Damian Ashford's five years of devotion to me."

The applause died down. Several bodyguards carried in two enormous crates, each wrapped in silk ribbon tied into elaborate bows.

I smiled softly and nudged Damian toward the crates, gesturing for him to open them.

The entire room went still. Necks craned. Every pair of eyes fixed on those oversized crates, wondering what extravagant gift could possibly be inside.

Damian gave my cheek an indulgent pinch, then reached for the latch. The clasp snapped open with a sharp click, and he threw back the lid.

Under his stunned gaze, a woman slowly rose from inside the crate. The instant her eyes landed on Damian, she burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"Honey! You scared me half to death! Didn't you tell me to bring our son back for the celebration?"

"We'd barely gotten off the plane before someone shoved us into a crateyou're awful! You can't scare people like that!"

Her tears dissolved into giggles as she wrapped her arms around Damian's neck.

Three seconds of dead silence.

Then the room erupted.

"What's going on? Why is this woman calling Damian her husband?"

"She has a son? I thought Damian couldn't have children!"

The color drained from Damian's face. He spun around and wrenched open the second crate. Inside, his son lay with his eyes shut tight, fast asleep.

Damian lunged forward and scooped the boy into his arms, shouting his name.

But the little one just slumped against his shoulder, limp and motionless.

Panic flooded Damian's eyes. He patted the child's back once, twice, three timesthen his gaze snapped to me.

"Serena, what did you do to Hugo?"

I walked forward with a cold smile, my gaze cutting into him like a blade.

"Damian, why are you so worked up? Don't tell me this is your son."

"Oh, rightI almost forgot. Our dear Mr. Ashford suffered that terrible car accident. He shouldn't be able to father such an adorable child."

As I spoke, I let the tip of my manicured nail trace lightly down the boy's cheek, leaving a thin red line.

Damian froze. Not even a full second passed before he forced a smile onto his panicked face.

"Serena, don't misunderstand. This child... this child is..."

In the scramble for an answer, even the great and cunning CEO Ashford couldn't produce a plausible excuse.

Then something seemed to click. He thrust the boy toward me without hesitation.

"Serena, this is Edna's little nephew. She knows we can't have children of our own, so out of gratitude, she offered him to usto raise as our son."

His voice steadied as he spoke, and he grew visibly pleased with himself for landing on such a convenient story.

"Serena, look how adorable he is. You've always wanted a child, haven't you? Good things come to good people. Edna was so grateful for everything we did for her that she gave us a child of her own."

Edna watched the boy pass into my arms and couldn't help herself. She lurched forward, but Damian caught her by the arm and shot her a warning glare.

I took my time, smoothing the boy's downy hair, letting the sharp edge of my nail drag across his soft cheek again and again, each stroke leaving a pale line on his skin.

I watched Edna's eyes rim red, tears pooling and threatening to spill. I savored the way Damian swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with every nervous gulp.

Then, in one swift motion, I closed my hand around the boy's throat and snarled:

"Edna Foxyou've already lost one son to a miscarriage. Do you want this one to die in my hands?"

Edna's face drained of color. A shrill scream tore through the banquet hall:

"Serena Calloway! That is Damian's sonyou can't hurt him!"