SECRET HEIR

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.

"Please, just kill me! I'm filthy!" she screamed. I tried to calm her down, looking into her tearful eyes as I spoke.

"Who was it? Do I know him?" I feigned ignorance. My wife shook her head repeatedly, tears streaming down her face.

"I don't know... I thought it was you coming home last night. I opened the door for him," she cried uncontrollably once again. I embraced her, holding her tightly.

"It's okay, love. Don't be afraid. I won't leave you," I whispered, and her cries grew louder.

"I'm not worthy of being your wife anymore. Another man touched me last night. Please report him to the police-he must be punished! Or... I should just leave this world," she pleaded. I could only stroke her head gently.

"Calm down, love. Don't cry. We will report this to the police," I said, trying to reassure her.

Three months passed, and my wife remained deeply traumatized. Since that day, she refused to leave the house and couldn't even smile. She was solely waiting for news from the police about whether the man had been caught, as she was terrified he might return someday. Since then, she also refused to be alone at home. Our house was quite secluded, far from residential areas-a legacy from my mother, built in the middle of her garden. It was a 200-meter distance to the nearest populated area, which facilitated my plan at that time.

I found the young man at a club. Knowing I needed good genes, I chose an attractive man, hoping to have a good-looking child. It sounds absurd, but it was an act of desperation due to my inadequacy as a man. Now, all I could do was wait for news of Rania's pregnancy while trying to comfort her so she could return to her former self.

However, this morning, I was shocked because Rania got her period.

"Honey, did you get your period?" I asked upon returning from the bathroom, having seen a sanitary pad wrapper in the trash. She nodded weakly, with a faint smile.

"Yes, thank goodness. I was so scared before," she said. I smiled awkwardly in response. Rania stood up and hugged me.

"Thank you for staying with me," she said, crying into my chest. I gently stroked the back of her neck.

"Yes, dear. I've reported it to the police; they will search until they find him," I said briefly, sighing again.

"My world feels like it's stopped. If you're burdened and can't handle it, you can discard me. Or just kill me," she sobbed. I remained silent, stroking her head.

What should I do? Rania isn't pregnant from that night. It's all gone too far, and my plan didn't work. Should I execute this mission again? But she hasn't even recovered from this trauma, I thought to myself.

But it's too late. This mission must succeed; Rania must get pregnant, no matter what!