My wife—the CEO who was born infertile—was drugged by mistake and ended up spending the night tangled in bed with the underprivileged student I had sponsored.
Two months later, she was pregnant with his twins.
His eyes were red as he begged her to get an abortion.
“That night was already a betrayal to Garland. I can’t hurt him any more than I already have. I can’t keep these babies!”
But Cherity Windermere had always longed to have a child. And when life had handed her one, she got obsessed with keeping the babies.
She even spent billions building a private villa and locked him away there, telling the world he had gone abroad.
She covered her tracks perfectly—until the day I crashed the twins’ full-month celebration.
My wife didn’t even look at me. She just motioned for her assistant to throw the divorce agreement at my feet.
“Sign it, Garland. I’ll give you ten villas in exchange.”
The longer I refused to divorce her, the more she raised the stakes.
And then she did the unthinkable—she kidnapped my younger brother, my only family. She strung him up like a piece of meat, suspended above an industrial mixer.
“Sign it, or watch him turn into a pile of bloody meat! Your call.”
I lunged for the control panel like a madman. But the machine roared to life before I could reach it.
In an instant, blood sprayed like red pulp across my body.
My brother was gone in an instant!
Just as I screamed and lost control, I slipped and fell straight into the machine myself.
When I opened my eyes again… I was back—in the past!
I didn’t hesitate this time. I signed the papers, erased my identity, and vanished to a foreign land.
But after I disappeared without a trace… Cherity lost her mind trying to find me.
——
Garland’s POV
“Sir, I’ve tracked Ma’am Cherity. She’s at the Valora Estate. Looks like she’s hosting a one-month party for a baby.”
That exact report from the private investigator… It had happened before.
I was trembling all over, realizing… I had been reborn!
In my past life, I’d started getting suspicious—Cherity sneaking off at night, leaving without a word.
That was why I hired a private investigator to track her.
What he uncovered shocked me: she had secretly bought the Valora Estate a year prior and built a private villa there—just to hide and trap her lover in luxury.
The detective’s voice turned cautious when he noticed my silence. “Sir, do you… want to go now? If you show up now, you’ll catch them red-handed—she’ll have no way to talk her way out of it.”
“No need,” I replied instantly.
Just remembering my brother’s death—how he was crushed in front of my eyes—made my body tremble uncontrollably.
I couldn’t go through something like that again.
“You’ve done enough. From now on, stop all investigations on her. As for everything you found… forget it ever happened,” I said.
I pulled out a half a million check and handed it to him. “And don’t let her find out I was ever watching her,” I warned.
The investigator’s eyes lit up, nodding immediately.
Once the villa returned to its usual quiet, I slowly got to my feet and took down the wedding photo hanging on the wall.
In it, Cherity and I were both smiling brightly, gazing into each other’s eyes that were full of love.
It had already been eight years…
But I still remembered our wedding day clearly. The way she kissed the back of my hand so gently and made her vow.
“Garland, no matter what happens in this lifetime—sickness, old age, death—I’ll only ever love you.”
But life had other plans.
Two years into our marriage, we still hadn’t conceived.
A hospital visit confirmed our worst fear.
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said gently. “Your wife has a 99% chance of being infertile. I hope you both can come to terms with it.”
We both loved children. We wanted to build a family to continue our legacy.
The news was, without doubt, a heavy blow.
But for a woman, hearing she could never bear a child—it cut her particularly more deeply.
After that, Cherity started drowning herself in alcohol.
Even when we made love, whenever she remembered what the doctor said, the fire in her eyes would quickly die out.
