Untouched for Three Years, I Carried His Rival’s Heir

My husband, Kieran, is the heir to the Thompson family.

In the three years of our arranged marriage, he has never once touched me.

I told myself he was just cold and guarded, that I could find a way into his heart, little by little.

Then one day he came home drunk, pinned me to the bed for the first time, and called out his first love's name.

"Camilla, all these years... I've thought of you every second of every day..."

That was when I knew. All the passion and love he possessed was already spent on another woman.

I pushed him away, burned every photo of us, and went to a high-end club in New York full of handsome male models.

Nine months later, I walked into the airport with my newborn baby in my arms.

Later, Kieran searched the world for me, his eyes bloodshot.

He asked in a trembling voice why I never told him I was pregnant, why I wouldn't let him see our baby.

I glanced at him and gave a light, breezy smile. "Who said the baby was yours?"

Seven months pregnant, and Kieran brought his first love back to the estate. I felt nothing. After all, seven months ago, I had gotten pregnant with another man's baby.

In a way, it made us even. And soon, I would be free to leave.

Today was a routine prenatal checkup. At the private clinic, the doctor held a stack of reports, his brow furrowed as he studied my barely-there belly.

"Mrs. Thompson, you're due in about two months, but you're too thin and barely showing. You must pay attention to your nutrition."

"You've come for so many checkups, but the Underboss has never accompanied you. The baby you're carrying is the family heir. He should..."

Even for a doctor in the underworld used to seeing irresponsible husbands from arranged marriages, it was just a casual question.

Before he could finish, I cut him off, my voice light and unbothered.

"He couldn't make it. And the baby isn't his. Thank you for the reminder, I'll watch my diet."

I left him with that, walking calmly away as he stared in shock.

Even a doctor who had seen his share of this bloody business was stunned. He stood there, wide-eyed, for a long moment.

I was, after all, the wife of the Thompson family heir, a prominent figure myself.

He didn't snap out of it until his next patient came in. He managed a dismissive smile, thinking Mrs. Thompson must have fought with her husband and was just trying to provoke him.

After leaving the exam room, I gently stroked my small baby bump and set a countdown on my phone.

Two more months until this baby was born. Then, I could finally be free of Kieran Thompson and this damn alliance.

Watching the numbers on the screen tick down, I gripped my phone, a surge of strength flowing through me.

I was about to leave the clinic when I overheard two nurses whispering.

"Who is this Camilla, anyway? For a simple cold, the Underboss shut down an entire floor for her and had the chief physician see her personally."

My heart tightened at the name, but I didn't slow my pace.

Back at the estate, I came across two familiar figures at a turn in the rose garden.

Camilla was sitting on a stone bench, her cheeks slightly flushed, while Kieran knelt on one knee before her, his long, deft fingers holding her slender wrist.

His expression was intent as he carefully removed a tiny splinter from her hand.

The tender, protective way he held her was a bitter irony, considering his complete ignorance of my seven-month pregnancy.

His face, usually so stern, was now unusually gentle, a smile playing on his lips.

After removing the splinter, Kieran brought Camilla's finger to his lips and gently kissed the insignificant wound.

His focus broke only when I approached. He quickly dropped her hand and slowly stood up.

The moment his eyes met mine, the tenderness in them vanished.

He explained coolly, "Camilla wasn't feeling well last night, so I brought her over to get checked out. She just got a splinter, and I was helping her with it."

Hearing this, I stroked my belly and laughed bitterly to myself.

I was seven months pregnant with a baby he knew nothing about, yet he was so worked up over a tiny splinter in Camilla's hand.

But it didn't matter anymore. The baby wasn't his anyway.

I gave a slight, unconcerned smile and murmured, "I see."

Kieran frowned, his thin lips parting slightly. Before he could speak, I beat him to it, reciting the line he always used.

"I know. Camilla's family is in some trouble. She needs your protection."

My calm smile seemed to unsettle him.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me sharply.

He must have found my composure strange. I used to fight with him constantly over Camilla.

But now, my indifference was absolute, extending not just to Camilla, but to Kieran himself.

His gaze made me uncomfortable. My hand trembled, and the test results in my hand scattered across the floor.

I immediately bent to pick them up, but he had already seen the corner of one. "Test results? What are these?"

"Nothing. Just a routine check-up report," I said, stuffing them into my purse.

Kieran stared at me, searching for a flicker of panic or any other crack in my composure.

But my heart was still. I felt nothing.

Suddenly, Camilla clutched his hand, her voice soft and delicate. "Kieran, my hand still hurts a little. Will you walk me back so I can put some medicine on it?"

Kieran turned to see Camilla's pitiful, innocent face, and his expression instantly softened. "Alright," he agreed.

Of course. Between Camilla and me, his choice was never me.

"Scarlett. Go on ahead. I'll find you later."

Without another glance at me, he turned and helped Camilla walk back toward the house.

I watched them go, completely unconcerned, and headed to my room.

Sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, I gazed out at the vibrant, blooming flowers. They had been replaced with roses.

Camilla's favorite.

Memories flooded my mind.

It hadn't always been like this between Kieran and me.

Our marriage was an alliance between the Valerio and Thompson families. Though Kieran was cold and kept everyone at a distance, he had been considerate enough after we were married.

He was an heir with status, looks, and power. He kept his distance from other women, filled the estate with my favorite flowers, and would pull me into his arms during a thunderstorm to whisper, "I'm here. Don't be afraid."

So even though it was an arranged marriage, I fell hopelessly in love.

But after three years, I had to face a harsh reality: we had never once been intimate.

I had always thought he was simply a cold person, uninterested in physical desire.

Until the night Kieran came home blind drunk, losing control for once, and held me, whispering Camilla's name over and over.

That was when I learned he had a great love, a first love, before our marriage.

Camilla's family had fallen on hard times, and she had moved to Italy with them, forcing the two apart.

Perhaps it was this unresolved past that made it impossible for him to forget her.

Besides, how could a latecomer ever compare to a first love?

Clearly, I was no exception.

Even though I was the Underboss's legitimate wife, I was just a wife, a role anyone could have filled.

Later, while tidying his room, I found his diary. Every page was filled with his longing for Camilla. For years, it had never stopped.

What broke my heart the most was when I finally got a clear look at the tattoo on his chest. It was her name, Camilla.

It wasn't that his heart was impenetrable. It was that the throne inside it had always been occupied.

That night, staring at the intricate tattoo on Kieran's chest, my heart felt like it had been ripped in two.

I could accept a husband who didn't love me. After all, I could work, little by little, to melt his heart.

But I couldn't make a man who was in love with someone else fall for me.

In my grief, I rushed back to the old Valerio estate, intending to ask my father to dissolve the marriage alliance.

But my father pulled a document thick with dense clauses from the old family safe.

How could I have forgotten? As the Don of the Valerio family, his daughter's marital problems would never take precedence over the family's survival.

The contract, signed in blood, laid out the terms of our marriage.

"The alliance can never be broken unless you produce an heir for the Thompson family," my father's voice was heavy.

"If you insist on leaving, the Thompsons have the right to absorb our territory or declare war."

What a cruel consequence.

Even with the full might of the Valerio family, we couldn't withstand the wrath of the Thompsons.

I had never realized that in this game of power, I had been sold to the Thompsons like a bargaining chip.

My father and mother stood before me, their faces etched with guilt, almost pleading. "Scarlett, we know it was wrong of us to hide this from you."

"But at the time, the family's finances were collapsing, and rival families were circling like vultures. The alliance with the Thompsons was the only way to survive the coming storm."

"And now, even if you want a divorce, you must consider the family's survival. The Valerio family cannot afford a war."

Holding the blood-signed contract, I felt a mix of sorrow and bitter irony.

My parents were thinking of the family's survival, and the Thompsons of their bloodline. But who was thinking of me?

With no other choice, I cast aside all dignity. I threw myself at Kieran again and again, desperate.

My only thought was to have a baby and buy my freedom.

But every time, he rejected me without hesitation.

His heart belonged only to Camilla. He was like a devout pilgrim on a sacred quest.

Not long after, Camilla returned from abroad, newly divorced. Kieran brought her directly to the Thompson estate, claiming she had nowhere else to go.

He let her live in our home, in the guest room just a few steps from our own bedroom.

On Camilla's first night at the estate, she walked in on me trying to seduce Kieran.

When she saw me in a sexy silk nightgown, her eyes welled with tears, and she ran off as if she had been deeply wronged.

Kieran, his eyes filled with worry and concern, rushed after her.

I clung to the hem of his shirt, refusing to let him go. "Kieran, my father is pressuring us for an heir. Just once. Just give me one chance..."

In that moment, he angrily shoved my hand away, so forcefully that I nearly fell.

"I've told you countless times, I'm not interested! Scarlett, if you want an heir that badly, go have one with someone else!"

"This is the last time I'm warning you. Don't try this again."

I stared at him, my last line of defense shattered.

Watching him hurry after Camilla, my heart turned to ash.

I didn't sleep at all that night. I had no tears left to cry.

After a long night of contemplation, I finally understood. The blood pact only stated that I had to produce a baby to end the alliance.

It never said whose baby it had to be.

So I went to a high-end club in lower Manhattan, known for its absolute discretion.

I randomly picked a man who looked decent enough and went to bed with him. And, quite smoothly, I became pregnant.

I would take Kieran at his word. I would have a baby with another man, and then I would leave. We would both get what we wanted.

Now, seven months later, I put away the test results and began to cover my tracks.

I had to act fast, while my pregnancy was not yet obvious.

I lit a fire in the fireplace and began burning documents: copies of the contracts detailing my marriage to Kieran, private letters, and some medical records.

The firelight danced on my face. With every piece of paper that burned, I felt more liberated.

Kieran pushed the door open and saw me.

He frowned at my crouched figure before the fireplace. "What are you burning?"

"Old legal documents. The lawyer said to destroy them periodically to protect our privacy."

I didn't turn around, continuing to feed paper into the fire.

He sensed something was off and was about to approach when the butler knocked and entered.

"Sir, for the Romano family's reconciliation dinner tomorrow night, will you be wearing the family signet ring?"

Kieran nodded. "Have my grandfather's ring brought from the vault."

Soon, the butler returned with a black velvet box.

Inside lay the Thompson family's heirloom signet rings, passed down through generations: a matching pair, for the heir and his wife. Both were platinum, set with enormous black diamonds.

Kieran picked up the woman's ring and walked toward me. "Tomorrow's dinner is important. As my wife, you must attend with me."

The ring glittered with a cold light in the fire's glow.

It was magnificent, but wearing it now would only draw attention to my slightly swollen fingers in late pregnancy.

I was about to refuse when Kieran suddenly knelt, grabbing my wrist. "Have you... put on weight recently?"

His sharp eyes scanned my hand. "Your fingers seem thicker than before."

"Yes, I've been eating more lately," I said, quickly pulling my hand back and trying to change the subject.

Just then, Camilla pushed the door open, clearly looking for Kieran.

Her eyes immediately fell on the pair of rings on the table.

"Oh my God, are those the legendary Thompson family signet rings? I heard they're the masterpiece of an 18th-century Italian artisan. The woman who gets to wear one is truly honored..."

Seeing the undisguised longing in her eyes, I didn't wait for Kieran to speak. I simply handed her the woman's ring.

"Since you know so much about its history, you should wear it to the dinner."

"Really? Can I?" Camilla's voice trembled with excitement. "But this symbolizes the Lady of the Thompson family. Is it appropriate for an outsider like me to wear it?"

She said that, but she was already eagerly sliding the ring onto her finger.

I watched her hypocritical performance with a cold, indifferent heart.

"It suits you."

I had already surrendered his heart. What was a ring?

With that, I looked at Kieran. "I have other plans tomorrow, so I won't be attending. Let Camilla accompany you as the Lady of the Thompson family."

Kieran remained silent, his deep eyes fixed on me, as if trying to read my true intentions.

He seemed shocked by my unusual behavior, clearly not expecting me to so easily surrender a symbol of my position as lady of the house.

"Kieran? Kieran!"

"Can I wear the ring and go to the dinner with you tomorrow? Please?"

Camilla's coaxing voice finally brought him back to his senses. He slowly nodded.

"Fine. You'll come with me tomorrow."

The next evening, I had planned to stay in my bedroom.

But the dinner the staff prepared was seafood.

The strong fishy smell made my stomach churn. My morning sickness was more intense than ever.

I barely ate anything and was feeling hungry in the middle of the night.

As I went downstairs to the kitchen, I heard a loud argument.

The sound came from Kieran's private study, a sanctuary no one but him and the Don of the Thompson family was permitted to enter.

I tiptoed down the stairs, following the voices.

The door was ajar, and Camilla's sobbing drifted out.

"Why? Kieran, why do you torture both of us like this?"

I peeked through the crack in the door. Kieran was sitting on the sofa, a bottle of whiskey in hand, clearly having had a lot to drink.

Camilla stood before him, tears streaming down her face like broken pearls.

"If you don't love her, why maintain this marriage? You let me suffer in the shadows, while she never even gets your love!"

Kieran rubbed his temples in agony. "This is my responsibility as heir to the Thompson family. It's not something I can escape. A blood alliance isn't a game, Camilla."

"Responsibility?" Camilla laughed bitterly. "So I'm doomed to be your mistress forever, someone who can never step into the light?"

Kieran was silent, just kept drinking his whiskey.

"Camilla..." After a long pause, Kieran closed his eyes in pain. "You know what you mean to me."

"No, I don't!" She turned to leave. "If you really cared about me, you wouldn't make me watch you share a bed with another woman!"

Heartbroken, Camilla turned to leave.

"I'm tired, Kieran. Maybe we should just end this for good."

Just as Camilla reached the door, Kieran suddenly dropped the bottle and grabbed her from behind, holding her tight.

"Do you want to know how much I've missed you?" his voice trembled. "It's not just a moment. It's every moment. Every second of every day, I'm thinking of you!"

"Every night is torture, imagining what would have happened if I had stopped you from leaving back then..."

Camilla trembled in his arms, her tears flowing even faster. "Then why... why can't you give me a proper title?"

Kieran took her hand and pressed it against his heart.

Through his white shirt, I could see his heartbeat so violently that the fabric trembled.

He gazed into Camilla's eyes and made a solemn promise in a voice only they could hear.

"The day I officially become Don, I will change the family rules."

"Then, this so-called blood pact will no longer exist."

Those words were a dagger straight through my heart.

I clapped a hand over my mouth, stifling a gasp.

Kieran wanted out of this alliance even more than I did.

With a few simple words, he had negated my identity, our marriage, and the alliance itself.

I backed away silently, step by step, and returned to my room.

After closing the door, I opened a box from the back of my closet.

Inside were all the photos of Kieran and me from the past three years, and every gift he had ever given me.

I took them out, one by one, and threw them into the fireplace, lighting them on fire.

The photos curled, yellowed, and turned to ash in the flames.

The necklaces, watches, and brooches that once brought me so much joy were all consumed by the fire.

"Scarlett?"

Kieran's voice came from the doorway. He had obviously noticed the firelight from under the door.

He smelled of whiskey and her perfume.

When he saw the smoldering ashes in the fireplace, his face changed instantly.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sharp with alarm.

I calmly stirred the embers. "Just clearing out some old things."

Kieran walked over and saw that what I had thrown into the fire was a pink photo album. The flames had devoured the pictures, making them almost unrecognizable.

But he still recognized it instantly. It was our wedding album.

From the engagement party to the wedding, from daily life to formal events.

Beneath each photo, I had written little notes.

"He took me to try on wedding dresses today. He looked at me and suddenly smiled. Does that mean I'm a little different to him?"

"Our first formal family gathering. He took my hand on his own."

"Scarlett loves Kieran. So, so much."

All my feelings were recorded in that album, a testament to my love.

He had flipped through it once. I had been shy, but I never tried to hide my love.

And now, I was burning it all.

Kieran lunged forward, the alcohol instantly wearing off. "Why did you burn this?"

I looked up at him and gave a faint, calm smile. "No reason. It was getting moldy, so I burned it."

I watched as the flames died down, leaving only ashes in the fireplace, which I then began to clean up without hurry.

He watched my movements, silent for a long time. I glanced at him. "It's late. Time to rest."

With that, I lay down on my side of the bed, turned off the bedside lamp, and closed my eyes.

In the darkness, I felt him lie down behind me.

He reached for me instinctively, as he always did.

But I shifted away, evading his touch and curling into a ball at the edge of the bed.

Kieran opened his eyes in the dark, staring at his empty arms.

A knot formed in his chest. For the first time, he realized something was quietly changing.