I Was in Love With a Married Man

I was in love with a man who was already married to another woman. When he divorced her and married me, I thought I had won, only to find out later I was a tool he had been using to produce his heir, his wife couldn't. By the time I saw his true face, I was already pregnant with his child. But he isn't going to get his hands on my baby. I won't let it happen. Later he forced me to stay at his mother's residence while he was busy in spending time with his ex-wife. Despite my desperate pleas against his abusive mother, he rejected all my calls. And by the time he returned, holding hands of his ex-wife, it was too late. The child he was so desperately waiting for... was gone. Chapter 1 I was in love with a married man, Julian Walton. He asked me to be his mistress. He promised me luxury, discretion, and his heart. But I refused. I had too much pride to be a secret kept in the dark, a shameful footnote in his grand life. So, I walked away. I thought that was the end of it, but Julian shocked everyone. Within months, he did the unthinkable: he divorced Clara, weathering a massive public scandal and a brutal financial hit, just to come back to me. When he got down on one knee with a ring that could buy a small island, he told me I was the only woman he ever truly wanted. He legally made me his wife. I thought I had won. I thought love had conquered all. Then came tonight. I was heading down to his private study to bring him a cup of tea. I was going to use the quiet moment to tell him the news that had made my heart soar just hours earlier—that I was finally pregnant. But as I reached the heavy mahogany door, I realized it wasn't fully closed. A sliver of light cut across the dark hallway, and with it, a voice that made my blood run cold. Clara. "How much longer do I have to play this ridiculous game, Julian?" she asked, her voice laced with sharp impatience. "Watching you parade around with that... woman is humiliating." I froze, the teacup trembling in my hands. "Just hold on a little longer, Clara," Julian’s voice replied. It was smooth, calm, and utterly devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for me. "You know the doctors said you can't carry a child to term, and my family's estate requires a legal heir. The prenup with my father ensures we lose everything if I don't produce one." "So you married a nobody," Clara sneered. "Exactly," Julian said, and I could hear the smirk in his tone. "She was too proud to be a mistress, so I gave her the title. It’s a temporary investment. The moment she gives birth and the child is legally mine, she’s out. I’ll kick her to the curb with a standard settlement; we'll file for sole custody, and you and I can remarry. Just let her hatch the golden egg, darling. Then she's gone." The teacup shattered against the hardwood floor. The sound of the shattering porcelain exploded in the silence of the hallway, a sharp, violent punctuation to the death of my life as I knew it. Inside the room, the voices abruptly cut off. For a single, agonizing second, I couldn't breathe. The air in my lungs had turned to shards of glass. The man who had knelt before me, who had weathered a public storm to claim me, was a phantom. A construct of calculated malice. I wasn't his victorious love; I was a biological incubator, a "nobody" brought in to hatch his golden egg. Footsteps hurried toward the door. Panic, cold and visceral, seized me. My hand instinctively flew to my stomach. They want my baby. They didn't just want to break my heart; they wanted to steal the life growing inside me and throw me to the curb. Before my mind could process the shock I had just received, the door was pulled open. In between the doorframe stood Julian and his ex-wife, Clara. Panic flared in his eyes as he asked, “What are you doing here, Izzy?” “You should have been resting. You had a fever today, didn't you?” he quickly managed to speak, adjusting his expression from panic to normal and then finally to a loving and caring husband. I didn't hesitate and pointed my fingers at Clara. “It's my home. I can go wherever I want. But what is she doing at our home?” He turned to look at her. His face showed feigned disdain as he said, “I have settled all the payments for our alimony. Do not show up here ever again.” Clara then walked out. She didn't forget to spare me a malicious look as if I were merely a joke to her. Not long after, Julian walked me to our bedroom. Making me sit, he held my hands and said softly, “You shouldn't exhaust yourself, darling. You still need to carry my child in your fragile womb for nine months. Remember?” So, all the love he showered me with, the protective shield he provided me, was an investment to him– just to get a child in return? I looked into his eyes and said, my voice firm. “Don't worry, I’m strong enough to carry my baby not just for nine months but for eternity.” The person who will not be able to carry the baby is not me but you, Julian Walton, I thought. I slipped the paternity test reports lying on the side table so that he could not know, and when he asked me what I was doing, I said, “Next time you meet Clara, please ask her not to wear Lavender perfume. I’m allergic to it.” “I’m moving to the guest room. I can't sleep with that smell lingering all over your body.” Having said that, I made my way out of our room without turning back to look at his expression. Julian Walton, I’m done with you, and so is my baby! Chapter 2 The door of the guest room clicked shut, and with it, the last fragments of the woman I used to be fell away. I locked it. I leaned my back against the wood, sliding down until my knees hit the plush carpet. My hands, still trembling, came down to clutch my stomach. Paternity test reports. My mind raced back to the papers I had hastily shoved into my robe pocket. Hours ago, before my world shattered, I had gone through Julian’s personal filing cabinet looking for our medical insurance cards to register for my first prenatal appointment. Instead, I had found an old, misfiled medical file from his early twenties—a comprehensive fertility panel conducted during a brief, forgotten medical scare. The diagnosis had been clear, stamped in cold, sterile ink: Severe oligospermia with genetic abnormalities. The doctors had given him less than a one percent chance of ever conceiving naturally. Julian didn't know I had found it. He thought his secret was safe. But it wasn't. The child in my womb was probably his only chance, the doctors mentioned to him. Now I understood why he had taken me to several medical tests before actually marrying me. My fertility rate was higher than that of an average woman. This was the sole reason he actually married me– to be successful in producing his heir. The feeling of being used hurt me more than his betrayal. I forced back my tears. I couldn't afford to cry. Crying was a luxury for people who had time. I had a countdown. The moment Julian realized I wasn't the submissive, fragile incubator he thought he bought, the gloves would come off. Walking over to the vanity, I pulled out my burner phone—the one I had kept from my old life, before Julian had upgraded me to a sleek, tracked smartphone. I dialed a number I knew by heart. It rang three times before a deep, steady voice answered. "Izzy? Is everything alright? It’s late." Hearing Liam's voice almost broke my resolve, but I clenched my fists, drawing strength from the anger burning in my chest. "Liam," I whispered, looking out the window at the sprawling, dark grounds of the Walton estate. "I need you to help me disappear.” *** The next day, Julian told me his mother had invited us to a family dinner. His family resented me after he divorced Clara and married me. They didn't spare a single chance to bully me. Every time I complained to him, he would ask me to bear with it. According to him, it was the bare minimum to tolerate in comparison to the loss he had gone through because of our marriage. It was only now that I realised that it was not that he could not help me, he just didn't care at all. I wanted to refuse the dinner. But Liam had asked me to wait for a week as he was currently out of the continent, and in this time span, I did not want to offend Julian or do anything that could create doubt in his mind for me. So, I just smiled and said, “Okay.” Later that night, as we arrived at the Walton Main House, my eyes darted at Clara sitting leisurely on the dining chair next to Julian's mother, Brinda. “If she is already here, why bother inviting me then?” I whispered. In his response, Julian only tightened his grip over my arms and said through gritted teeth. “I didn't know Mom had invited her as well.” “It's just dinner, Diana. Mom likes her. So, try to be mature. Don't ruin it because of your jealousy,” he spat as he dragged me to greet his mother and Clara. Brinda hugged her son and even threw Clara into his arms for greetings, and when our gaze met, she only smirked. “You came as well? Fine, let's eat first.” Brinda intentionally made Julian sit next to Clara, and as if nothing had happened, Clara kept pushing food into Julian's plate. He smiled every time and praised her for still remembering his taste. She blushed all this while. It wasn't looking like I was Julian's legal wife, and she was just his ex-partner. It looked like they were still married, and I was just his mistress, looked down on by everyone. I was about to get up from the table, unable to witness this obscene event, when Brinda suddenly called me out. “My friend saw you at the maternity centre, Izzy. Are you pregnant?” Chapter 3 The moment these words fell to Julian's ears, he quickly stood up from his chair. He pulled the chair and sat next to me. He grabbed my hands and placed them gently on his. “You are pregnant, and you didn't tell me about it?” He said, his voice laced with excitement and his eyes shining brightly. “Y-You shouldn't be sitting like this. You should be resting. Don't exhaust yourself. Let me feed you instead.” With that, he quickly poured the nutritious soup into my bowl and began feeding me with his hands. “You should eat more. Just look at your body, how thin you have been looking recently.” He first blew the soup before pushing the spoon into my mouth, making sure it was not too hot. Clara’s face instantly turned dark. Even the mask of feigned excitement on her face couldn't hide the jealousy beneath. “Congratulations, Izzy.” She said, “From now on, I’ll not go anywhere.” Julian began, “I’ll stay with you the whole day and take care of you.” A day ago, if he had whispered the same words to me, I would already have melted into his arms, telling him how lucky I was to have him as my partner. But today I knew his true face. The love and the care he was showering me with were only his investment for the golden egg. Inside my womb, he didn't see a symbol of our love, but a trophy to his inheritance. I gently pushed his hands off me as I turned to look at Brinda. “You are mistaken, Mom. I went there because of issues with my periods. That's it. No one is pregnant here.” The moment Julian realised I was not pregnant, the shift in his expression was visible. He became quiet, not even looking at me. Clara seemed to be satisfied with the news while Brinda charged at me. “You have been married to my son for three months, yet you are still childless. What's the benefit of freeloading you if you can't even give my son an heir?” “It would be better if he divorces you and brings someone else,” she spat. She was always like this, picking on me even if I breathed. After all this time, I grew to tolerate her. Occasionally, I felt bad after Julian’s calmness over her mother’s remarks. But after I decided to leave him, it didn't affect me anymore. When the dinner was finished and they had their family time, completely ignoring me as if I didn't even exist, Julian stood up to leave. I walked closely behind him, not that I was so attached to him, but I wanted to leave this place as soon as possible. But Julian stopped me in the middle. “I’m leaving for a business trip, Izzy. It will last for a whole week.” “Mom just told me she is feeling uneasy lately. You stay with her. I’ll come to pick you up when I’m back.” “Julian, No!” I refused, “You know how much your mother resents me, and you are leaving me to her?” At first, I thought it was good for me that Julian was leaving for his business trip. In that case, I could escape him easily. I didn't have to put up with the act of a foolish wife who had no idea about his affairs. But, I could not risk my life living with his mother, especially when I had a life within me. She would not spare a chance, making things difficult for me. “It's your time to win her heart, and you are throwing it away?” He seemed agitated. “Next time, don't complain; my mother doesn't like you if you put no effort into her.” No matter how much I tried to convince him, he just didn't listen and left me all by myself. Later that night, when Brinda had her time making me clean all the dirty dishes and her laundry, she offered me a servant quarter to stay. As I fell to the hard mattress lying against the cold marble, my phone began buzzing non-stop. It was Clara. Her audacity. She was sending me dozens of pictures. Wrapped in a silk robe, her chest was exposed, and she was lying above Julian. His hands seemed to be moving on her waist. She texted. [Julian is not on a business trip, sweetheart. He is with me, enjoying our third honeymoon after the divorce.] [Since you failed to give him an offspring, just pack your luggage. He is never going to pick you up.] [Oh, by the way! I have left a surprise for you. Hope you discover it soon.] Chapter 4 The next morning, as I woke up, I found the door locked from the outside. Panicked, I began calling Brinda. “Mom… Someone locked me inside. Please open the door.” For a few agonizing minutes, there was only silence. Then, the sharp, rhythmic click of Brinda’s designer heels echoed down the narrow hallway, stopping right outside. “Stop screaming like a wild animal, Izzy,” Brinda spat, her voice dripping with disdain. “You’re acting as if you don't know exactly why you're in there.” “Mom, what is the meaning of this?” I gasped. “To teach a useless, barren freeloader her place,” she sneered, leaning closer to the grate. “Three months you’ve been married to my son, living under his roof, burning through his money, and for what? You can’t even do the one job a woman from your background is good for. You’re infertile, Izzy. A broken vessel.” The irony of her words burned through me. If only she knew that her precious, golden son was the one who couldn't reproduce, and that it was my super fertile body that his son was breathing inside my womb. But I had to swallow the truth. I couldn't let her know. “Let me out, Brinda,” I demanded, dropping the facade of calling her 'Mom'. “This is unlawful. You can’t keep me here.” “I can do whatever I want in my own house,” she barked. “Julian left you in my care to learn how to be a proper, obedient wife. Consider this a week of reflection. Don't worry, a servant will drop off water once a day. If you're lucky.” With a harsh slam, the viewing window shut, and the sound of her heels faded away. Panic, cold and suffocating, flared in my chest. The water is once a day. My baby. I couldn't starve, and I couldn't be locked in this freezing, unventilated room. My phone! I dialed Julian’s number. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up. “What is it, Izzy?” his voice came through, loud and incredibly impatient. In the background, I could hear the faint, distinct sound of jazz music and the clinking of champagne glasses. Clara's text flashed in my mind: enjoying our third honeymoon. “Julian, you have to help me,” I cried, “Your mother... she locked me in the servant quarters! She’s keeping me trapped without food. Please, tell her to let me out!” There was a heavy sigh on the other end, and when he spoke, his voice was entirely devoid of the warmth he had used just the night before. “Are you seriously calling me during an international business merger to complain about my mother?” he scolded, his tone sharp and irritated. “Izzy, I told you to put effort into winning her over, and instead you’re creating hysterical drama.” “I’m not lying, Julian! I am locked in! She called me infertile and—” “Enough!” he snapped, cutting me off harshly. “My mother would never do something so archaic. You’re probably just throwing a tantrum because I asked you to stay there. Stop trying to manipulate me into coming home early. You couldn't even give me good news about a pregnancy last night, and now you're stressing me out with these ridiculous lies? Grow up, Izzy. Keep your head down, serve my mother, and I’ll deal with you when I get back in seven days.” The line went dead. For the next seven days, my life became a living hell. Brinda kept her promise; the door remained locked. A silent maid passed a single bottle of water and a bowl of stale rice through a small slot at the bottom of the door once a day, ignoring my pleas. I didn't call Liam. Not yet. I needed the Waltons to commit this crime fully. On the morning of the seventh day, the heavy iron locks on the door suddenly rattled. The door swung open, but it wasn't Brinda. Standing in the doorway, his tall, imposing figure casting a long shadow across the room, was Liam Vance. Behind him, two of his towering personal security guards stood, having completely bypassed the estate's security. "Izzy," Liam breathed, his voice cracking with a mixture of horror and rage as his eyes fell upon my frail, blood-stained form. Before he could step toward me, Brinda came rushing down the hallway, her voice shrill. "What is the meaning of this?! Who allowed you into my home? This is private property, Mr. Vance! You can't just—" Brinda stopped dead in her tracks as she looked past Liam and into the room. Her jaw dropped, her face turning a sickly shade of pale as she saw me slumped on the floor, surrounded by the blood staining my clothes. "Oh, my god..." Brinda whispered, stepping back in genuine shock. Liam didn't even look at her. He strode into the filthy room, dropping to his knees without a second thought for his expensive suit, and gently scooped my fragile body into his arms. "I've got you," Liam whispered fiercely against my hair, his chest heaving with emotion. "I'm so sorry I'm late." I pressed my weak face into his shoulder, my voice a barely audible rasp as I looked past him at a trembling, terrified Brinda. "Let's go, Liam," I whispered. He pulled me into his arms and rushed out. While he was placing me in his black SUV, Julian was coming back from his honeymoon with Clara. He caught a glimpse of me, and his face turned pale. “Izzy… what happened to you? Why are you bleeding so much? And this man…What is he doing here?”