The Heir s Secret Obsession

POV Danu

This morning, before the sun had fully risen, I slowly stepped into the house with a heavy heart and an unbearable weight in my chest. I could hear my wife's sobs from inside. Motionless, I swallowed the deep pain within me.

Outside the house, my chest felt as though it were being torn apart, but I had to accept this risk because it was my decision.

At the front door, I hesitated, unable to bear hearing Rania's cries. I sighed and wiped away my tears.

"Coward..." I whispered, cursing myself.

I couldn't fathom how such a vile plan had ever crossed my mind. But it was too late now. All that was left was to wait for news of her pregnancy.

I am a sterile man. In four years of marriage, we have not been blessed with a child. I have often begged Rania to leave me-a useless man-but because she loves me deeply, she gets furious whenever I bring it up.

Three months ago, I received word from my family that I had an inheritance from my father's side-a father I had not heard from in years. My mother raised me alone all this time. It turns out that near the end of his life, he sought me out. My father, who turned out to be a wealthy man, had left a will stating that the inheritance would go to his male grandchild. However, since none of his children from his first wife were male, the condition was that I had to have offspring to claim it. Perhaps knowing I was sterile, they set this condition.

Of course, I couldn't let this opportunity slip by. My entire life, my mother and I lived far from comfort. Even after marriage, I had to work hard labor to provide for Rania.

"I'm sorry, Rania..." I murmured, tears streaming down my face. With a heavy heart, I pushed the door open and walked to the bedroom.

"I don't deserve to live anymore. I'd be better off dead," I heard Rania say from behind the bedroom wall. My eyes widened, and I hurried to her. My shock deepened when I saw her holding a knife.

"Rania!" I shouted. She turned to me, sobbing hysterically. I rushed to her and instinctively embraced her.

"Stay away from me! I'm no longer worthy of you!" she cried. I held her tighter, sighing heavily, burdened by an overwhelming sense of guilt. But I had to endure this.

"Leave! It's better if I just die!" she wailed again. I gently took the knife from her hand and spoke softly.

"It's okay, love. I'm here. Don't be afraid," I said, glancing at the disheveled bed. I squeezed her bare shoulder gently, my heart bleeding at the thought of what had happened on that bed-a bed I had offered to another man. I was nothing but a worthless coward. She continued to cry hysterically and tried to speak through her sobs.

"I was forced by a man," she stammered, gasping for air. I exhaled deeply while her sobs grew louder.