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My husband, the tech billionaire Jackson Watkins, was perfect. For two years, he adored me, and our marriage was the envy of everyone we knew. Then a woman from his past appeared, holding the hand of a pale, sick four-year-old boy. His son. The boy had leukemia, and Jackson became consumed with saving him. After an accident at the hospital, his son had a seizure. In the chaos, I fell hard, a sharp pain shooting through my abdomen. Jackson ran right past me, carrying his son, and left me bleeding on the floor. I lost our baby that day, alone. He never even called. When he finally appeared at my hospital bed the next morning, he was wearing a different suit. He begged for forgiveness for being absent, not knowing the real reason for my tears. Then I saw it. A dark hickey on his neck. He had been with her while I was losing our child. He told me his son's dying wish was to see his parents married. He begged me to agree to a temporary separation and a fake wedding with her. I looked at his desperate, selfish face, and a strange calm settled over me. "Okay," I said. "I'll do it."
Chapter 1
My husband, the tech billionaire Jackson Watkins, was perfect. For two years, he adored me, and our marriage was the envy of everyone we knew.
Then a woman from his past appeared, holding the hand of a pale, sick four-year-old boy. His son.
The boy had leukemia, and Jackson became consumed with saving him. After an accident at the hospital, his son had a seizure. In the chaos, I fell hard, a sharp pain shooting through my abdomen.
Jackson ran right past me, carrying his son, and left me bleeding on the floor.
I lost our baby that day, alone. He never even called.
When he finally appeared at my hospital bed the next morning, he was wearing a different suit. He begged for forgiveness for being absent, not knowing the real reason for my tears.
Then I saw it. A dark hickey on his neck.
He had been with her while I was losing our child.
He told me his son's dying wish was to see his parents married. He begged me to agree to a temporary separation and a fake wedding with her.
I looked at his desperate, selfish face, and a strange calm settled over me.
"Okay," I said. "I'll do it."
Chapter 1
The clean, antiseptic smell of the clinic filled my nose. I sat on the edge of an examination table, watching a nurse neatly bandage the small cut on my hand. A stupid slip with a kitchen knife.
It was nothing, really, but Jackson insisted I get it checked.
The clinic door burst open and he rushed in, his expensive suit a little wrinkled.
"Eleanor, are you okay?"
His eyes, the same ones that commanded boardrooms, were wide with worry. He hurried over, ignoring the nurse, and took my uninjured hand.
"Jackson, I' m fine. It' s just a tiny cut."
He didn' t seem to hear me. He examined the fresh bandage as if it were a major wound, his thumb gently stroking my wrist.
"You have to be more careful," he murmured, his voice low and full of a familiar, possessive concern that always made my heart flutter.
The nurse, a young woman with a kind face, smiled at us.
"You' re a lucky woman. He must love you very much."
I smiled back, a warm feeling spreading through my chest. "I know."
We were the perfect couple. Eleanor Bernard and Jackson Watkins. The former mixologist who gave up her career for the tech billionaire who adored her. Two years of a marriage that was the envy of everyone we knew.
Suddenly, a child' s heart-wrenching cry cut through the quiet clinic. It was a sound of pure pain, followed by a woman' s desperate, shushing voice.
The sound came from the room next door. My smile faded.
The nurse sighed, her expression turning sad. "Poor little guy. He' s in for his chemo."
"Chemo?" I asked, my own small injury forgotten.
"Leukemia," she said quietly. "Only four years old. It' s just awful."
A wave of sympathy washed over me. I couldn' t imagine the pain that child and his mother were going through.
"That' s terrible," I whispered.
Jackson squeezed my hand, his tone dismissive. "It' s sad, but it has nothing to do with us, Ellie. Let' s go home."
He was always like that-focused, a little cold when it came to things outside our perfect world. He started to help me off the table, ready to leave.
But then the door to the next room opened. A woman with tired eyes and cheap clothes walked out, holding the hand of a small, pale boy.
The boy was crying softly, his face tear-stained. The woman looked desperate, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Jackson.
She froze. Then, her face twisted with a mix of shock and something else I couldn't name.
She took a step forward, pulling the little boy with her.
"Jackson?" she said, her voice trembling. "Jackson Watkins?"
Jackson' s body went stiff beside me. He didn' t turn. He didn' t speak.
The woman took another step. "It' s me. Karly. From Vegas? Four years ago."
I looked from her to my husband, my heart starting to beat a little too fast. I felt a cold dread creep up my spine.
The little boy, Leo, looked up at Jackson. And in his small, pale face, I saw it. The same sharp line of his jaw. The same deep-set eyes. He was a miniature version of my husband.
Jackson finally turned, his face a mask of disbelief. "I don' t know you."
His denial was quick, too quick.
"The Venetian," Karly pushed, her voice gaining strength. "You were there for a tech conference. We... we spent the night together."
A memory surfaced, something Jackson had told me once, long ago. A drunken mistake in Vegas before he met me. He' d said it was a meaningless one-night stand, a stupid lapse in judgment he regretted.
My gaze fell back to the boy, Leo. Four years old.
The math was simple. The math was brutal.
The warm, happy bubble I lived in didn' t just pop. It shattered into a million ice-cold pieces.
I looked at Jackson, my voice barely a whisper. "Is it true?"
He wouldn't meet my eyes.
"We need a paternity test," I said, the words feeling foreign in my mouth. My own voice sounded distant, like it belonged to someone else.
The wait for the results was the longest hour of my life. Karly sat quietly, holding her son, her expression calm, almost victorious. Jackson paced the floor, his face grim, his charisma gone, replaced by a raw, simmering guilt.
I just sat there, my hands clenched in my lap, trying to hold myself together. I felt numb, like I was watching a movie of my life falling apart.
Finally, the nurse came back with a sheet of paper. She didn't have to say a word. The look on her face was enough.
The results confirmed it. 99.9% probability.
Leo was Jackson' s son.
Jackson stared at the paper, his face ashen. He looked at me, his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. He just looked lost, broken.
Karly started to sob, a calculated, pitiful sound. She pulled Leo closer.
"Jackson, he' s dying," she cried. "The doctors say he needs a bone marrow transplant. You' re his only hope. Please, he' s your son."
The word 'son' seemed to hit Jackson like a physical blow. He looked at the sick little boy, at the tears on his face, and something in my husband shifted. The guilt in his eyes was replaced by a fierce, desperate sense of responsibility.
He looked at me, but his gaze was distant. It was like he was already in another world, a world where I didn't exist.
"Eleanor," he said, his voice strained. "Go home. I' ll... I' ll handle this. Just go home and rest."
Go home.
The words echoed in my head. He was sending me away. In the first real crisis of our marriage, he was choosing them. He was pushing me out.
It was a judgment. A verdict. And in that moment, I knew I had lost.
I couldn't even find the anger to fight. I just felt a profound, hollowing sadness. This was the man who had promised to love and protect me forever. The man I loved with every piece of my being.
But he had a secret. A four-year-old secret who was now dying. And I couldn't hate him for wanting to save his child.
I stood up, my legs feeling unsteady. The world tilted slightly. I walked out of the clinic, leaving him there with his past, his son, and the woman who had just destroyed my future.
I got back to our beautiful, empty house. The huge wedding portrait in the foyer seemed to mock me. Our smiling faces, so full of hope. It made me feel sick.
A wave of dizziness hit me, and the world went black.
When I woke up, I was in my own bed. Our housekeeper, Maria, was looking down at me with worried eyes.
"Mrs. Watkins, you fainted. I called the doctor."
The doctor, a kind-faced man, was packing his bag. He smiled gently.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Watkins. You' re pregnant."
Pregnant.
The word hung in the air. A tiny spark of joy flickered inside me, immediately followed by a wave of crushing uncertainty. A baby. Our baby.
But did Jackson even want our baby now?
"Where is he?" I asked Maria, my voice weak. "Where' s Jackson?"
"He hasn' t come home, ma' am. He hasn' t called."
He was still at the hospital. With them.
I lay there, one hand on my flat stomach, the other clutching my phone, a storm of joy and fear raging inside me.
He stayed at the hospital all night. He never called. He never texted.
The next morning, as I sat alone at the huge dining table trying to force down some toast, my phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
I know you' re looking for your family. I think I can help.
I stared at the screen, my heart pounding. My family. The family I couldn' t remember. The family I thought was lost to me forever.
I typed back a single, shaky word.
Who is this?
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Chapter 1
18/08/2025
Chapter 2
18/08/2025
Chapter 3
18/08/2025
Chapter 4
18/08/2025
Chapter 5
18/08/2025
Chapter 6
18/08/2025
Chapter 7
18/08/2025
Chapter 8
18/08/2025
Chapter 9
18/08/2025
Chapter 10
18/08/2025
Chapter 11
18/08/2025
Chapter 12
18/08/2025
Chapter 13
18/08/2025
Chapter 14
18/08/2025
Chapter 15
18/08/2025
Chapter 16
18/08/2025
Chapter 17
18/08/2025
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