The Secret Heir's Choice

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Harlan Sterling, the heir to the Sterling empire, was suddenly exposed as having a secret marriage and a daughter.

He immediately issued a public clarification.

No secret marriage, and certainly no daughter.

As everyone knows, I have been single all these years.

I watched his cold face on the TV.

Then I looked at our daughter, who was crying secretly, feeling wronged and confused.

My years of obsession suddenly dissolved completely.

When he came home, I didn't greet him at the door with our daughter like before.

Nor did I look forward with excitement to our reunion after a short separation.

Instead, I opened the messages I had received again.

A vasectomy report from six days ago, and a sentence:

"As long as you are willing, Lily will be my only child from now on."

With tears streaming down my face, I replied: "Come pick me up. I don't want to stay in the Sterling house anymore."

I stared at Harlan Sterling's handsome, indifferent face through the camera lens.

For a moment, I was in a daze.

He was known for his cold personality, deep scheming, and poker face.

But contrary to the rumors of him being an ascetic workaholic, Harlan had a high libido.

Before his business trip, ignoring my tears and pleas, he tied my wrists with his tie and pinned me down, taking me four times.

I couldn't help but bite his neck; the mark should still be there.

The navy blue tie with the subtle pattern he wore was an anniversary gift I hand-picked.

This is the fourth year of our marriage.

We have a lovely daughter who just turned three.

But now, my nominal husband, Harlan Sterling, just clarified to the media in the coldest, most serious tone.

"No secret marriage, and certainly no daughter."

"As everyone knows, I have been single all these years."

He pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses on his high nose bridge.

The cold light in his deep eyes was palpitating.

It felt like he was looking through the lens, straight at me with a chilling gaze.

"I advise those with ulterior motives to stop their wishful thinking and embarrassing themselves."

After saying this, Harlan stood up abruptly.

His bodyguards and personal assistant immediately dispersed the crowd, escorting him to his car.

I stiffly turned off the TV.

The living room plunged into darkness.

Only the floor lamp in the corner emitted a faint, cold light.

Suddenly, I heard a low sob.

I turned around sharply and saw my little daughter.

Her face was tear-stained, full of grievance and confusion, standing there frozen.

"Lily?"

I quickly got up and hugged her.

"Why aren't you sleeping? Why did you sneak downstairs?"

Lily buried her wet face in my chest.

Her small mouth pouted as she asked chokingly.

"Mommy, why did Daddy say he doesn't have a daughter?"

"If he doesn't have a daughter, what is Lily?"

My heart twisted in pain instantly.

Harlan was usually stern and taciturn.

Although he loved Lily, he spent little time at home and rarely smiled.

Lily adored him but was also a bit afraid of him.

Because of this, she was more sensitive than other children.

As tears poured down again, it seemed the obsession that had supported me for so many years suddenly dissipated into dust.

I wiped the tears from my daughter's face.

"Lily, do you want to leave here with Mommy?"

"Where are we going?"

"Will we come back home?"

I looked down and smiled: "No."

"This isn't our home."

I looked at Lily and answered with utmost seriousness: "This is your Uncle Harlan's home."

"We've stayed for a long time and disturbed him enough."

"So, it's time to leave here and go to our own home."

Lily nodded, seemingly understanding, and replied in her milky voice.

"Lily listens to Mommy. Where Mommy goes, Lily goes."

"Good girl."

I carried her back to her room and kissed her cheek lovingly.

"Sleep. Mommy will stay here with you."

Lily fell asleep.

My gaze fell on the photo frame on her bedside table.

It was a photo of our family of three.

The only photo of the three of us.

In the photo, Harlan sat upright with his usual distant expression.

I held one-year-old Lily, smiling shyly and happily, leaning slightly towards Harlan.

But he didn't lean towards me.

Lily was fast asleep.

I took the frame and quietly left the room.

When I cut the photo, I suddenly realized.

The gap left between our bodies back then was meant for today, so I could easily cut along it.

A week later, Harlan returned from his business trip.

It was already 10 PM.

In the past, my daughter and I would wait for him no matter how late.

But tonight, Lily had bathed and fallen asleep long ago.

I wasn't in the master bedroom but in the guest room on the second floor.

When the familiar engine sound rang out, I was on the balcony, staring blankly at the message received six days ago.

The vasectomy report still stung my eyes and brought tears.

"Marianne, just nod your head if you're willing."

"I will treat Lily as my own."

"From now on, she will be my only daughter, no, my only child."

I stared at those lines for a long time.

Until the screen went dark.

Until Harlan's footsteps came upstairs.

Until he came down from the third-floor master bedroom and stood outside the guest room.

Then, a knock.

"Marianne, open the door."

I wiped my tears hastily and hid the phone under the pillow.

"I'm sleeping. Let's talk tomorrow..."

But before I could finish, he opened the door from the outside.

I was stunned at first, then quickly sobered up.

This is Harlan's home, Harlan's house.

He naturally has 100% sovereignty.

"Why did you move to the guest room?"

He seemed displeased, his voice colder than usual.

I slowly sat up and looked at him.

He looked tired from the long flight, rubbing his brow as he spoke.

His voice was hoarse.

Ignoring the last trace of heartache, I looked away. "I haven't been feeling well these days. Didn't want to infect you."

"I don't mind. Move back."

Seeing me still sitting on the bed without moving, he frowned slightly. "Marianne?"

"I want to sleep. You should rest early too..."

Harlan didn't respond but walked straight to the bed.

He bent down and picked me up.

"It's been a week. Don't you want it?"

He lowered his head to kiss me.

But I turned my face away.

He was surprised, and soon his expression turned displeased.

"Marianne."

"What tantrum are you throwing?"

In four years of marriage, I had never rejected him.

He had high needs. Except for my period or business trips, we did it almost every night.

If it were before, after a week-long trip, I wouldn't have slept all night.

Back then, I was happy, even blissful.

Because only in bed did I feel like he liked me.

Normally, I was afraid of him getting angry.

But privately, during our intimacy, I secretly wanted him to get angry.

Because when he was angry in bed, he was so different from his usual self.

Once, we had a disagreement, and I ran off to stay with my best friend for a week.

Harlan personally came to pick me up in Hong Kong.

That day, in the most luxurious penthouse suite, he coldly unbuckled his belt with one hand and pinned me against the massive floor-to-ceiling window.

I cried until my voice was hoarse, but he wouldn't stop.

At the end, he gritted his teeth and whispered in my ear.

"Marianne, if you dare play the runaway game again, I'll kill you in bed."

"Crying won't help."

Maybe I had a bit of a weird fetish.

His cold, slightly angry look easily got to me.

I liked that he lost control of his emotions because of me.

But now, my body felt closed off.

It was calm, like a pool of dead water.

Just like my heart.

I struggled out of his arms.

"Harlan, let's separate."

I looked at him calmly, then suddenly laughed at myself.

We have a child, yet I can only say "separate."

Harlan and I, apart from a piece of paper agreement, don't even have a marriage certificate.

He was stunned at first, then asked in a deep voice.

"Because I clarified the marriage to the media?"

I wanted to say, not just because of the clarification.

If it were just that, I might have found hundreds of reasons to comfort myself.

But he denied our daughter's existence.

These past few days, whenever I close my eyes, I see my daughter's aggrieved and confused look.

I can't accept it.

"Yes."

"You know that was just to deal with the media."

Harlan looked at me with a distant and serious expression.

"I'm very busy. I don't have time to soothe your emotions over such a small matter."

I tried to look at him calmly, but my hands hanging by my sides couldn't help trembling.

My eyes felt like they were being pricked by needles, but I held back the tears.

"I don't need your soothing."

"I'm serious."

"We can tear up the previous agreement. I just want Lily."

A hint of sarcasm seemed to flash in Harlan's eyes.

"Are you using Lily to force me to reveal your identities?"

"No..."

"I told you, that's impossible."

"At least for the next few years, absolutely impossible."

He interrupted harshly: "Marianne, I can indulge you in many things."

"But there's no room for negotiation on this."

He looked down at me like I was a stranger.

The room was constantly temperature-controlled, but I felt incredibly cold.

The chill seeped into my bones, making me shiver.

Before marriage, my best friend had subtly advised me against it.

But I was brave and unafraid.

"Even if Harlan is a stone, so what?"

"Water dripping day by day wears the stone away."

But now, I'm giving up.

I want to be free water, not a droplet confined under the eaves for a lifetime.

"Think about it tonight. Move back when you've thought it through."

Harlan turned and left the guest room.

The door closed with a heavy sound, unlike his usual controlled demeanor.

I pulled up the quilt and closed my eyes.

In a few days, Grandpa Sterling would return from his recuperation in the south.

He was the one who decided on Harlan and me back then.

As long as he nodded, I could leave with Lily.

The Sterling family valued sons over daughters.

Mrs. Sterling rarely looked at Lily directly.

She had her own preferred daughter-in-law, so naturally, she disliked me.

Now that I wanted to take my daughter and leave the Sterling family, it would probably suit them perfectly.