Chapter 1: Let’s Have a Baby

"One more time, hmm?"

"How else are we going to have a baby if we don’t try a few more times?"

The man’s low, raspy voice carried the lingering huskiness of sleep, his breath warm and teasing against Vivian Hale’s ear.

Vivian’s long lashes fluttered as she fully drifted into consciousness.

She stared at the face before her—a face so familiar, yet so utterly foreign.

His features were exquisite and deep-set, and within the ink-black depths of his eyes, she saw a tidal wave of unbridled desire.

In that moment, every suspicion she had was confirmed once again.

The man before her was not her husband, Adrian Cross.

In their three years of marriage, Adrian had always been gentle, yet he never touched her. He had made it clear that he didn’t want children.

He would never be willing to climb into bed with her, let alone agree to conceive a child.

And he certainly wouldn't look at her body—scarred from a mastectomy—with such intense, unquenchable lust.

Yet this man, who looked exactly like her husband, knew their home’s entry codes and appeared, with such convenient timing, on the very nights Adrian was away.

The only explanation was that Adrian had hired him.

The seeds of doubt had been sown the very first night he appeared.

After several tests, she was now certain.

Her heart felt as though it had been pierced by a thousand needles; a cold, desperate numbness spread through her entire body.

She and Adrian were childhood sweethearts, together since high school. It had been twelve years since they fell in love.

For him, she had given up her university prospects to support his ambitions, obeying his every whim.

But in three years of marriage, he had grown increasingly cold. Two weeks ago, he had even brought in a stand-in to spend the nights with her.

Just so he could free up time to revel in a new villa with the college student he sponsored, Tiffany Rose.

To see their love reach this point was both laughable and tragic.

Fine. If this was the game, she would play along. All she wanted now was a child, anyway.

At this stage, who the father was didn't even matter anymore.

While her mind wandered, the man’s long fingers were already reclaiming her territory.

Gritting her teeth against the surge of sensation, she leaned in to kiss his Adam’s apple while her hand reached for the phone on the nightstand.

Click. She took a photo.

The man paused, looking at her with a hint of suspicion.

Vivian tossed the phone aside and wrapped her arms around his lean waist.

"I just wanted to capture the way you look when you're... moved by me," she whispered.

A storm of desire reignited in the man's eyes.

After their morning tryst, he was gone by the time she woke up again.

Vivian propped herself up against the headboard.

She pulled out her phone and sent the photo of their tangled bodies to Adrian.

Her pale fingers quickly typed out a message:

“Honey, don’t we look good together? You just left, and I miss you already.”

She stared at the screen with cold eyes.

Usually, Adrian would either give a perfunctory reply or ignore her messages entirely.

As expected, this time the response was instantaneous.

“I’m coming home right now. Wait for me.”

It was pathetic that she had to resort to such schemes just to get the man who once promised her the world to return home.

She let out a self-mocking laugh, suppressed the bitterness in her heart, and headed to the bathroom.

After a quick shower, she changed into a modest knit top and a knee-length skirt. She straightened the disheveled bed until it was spotless.

Then she pulled a pre-drafted divorce agreement from her drawer, tucking it inside a blue folder labeled "Insurance Contract."

Just as she finished, the sound of a familiar car braking echoed from downstairs.

Forcing a smile onto her face, she acted as if nothing was wrong and walked down with the folder.

Despite her mental preparation, seeing that identical face still made her heart skip a beat for a split second.

She greeted him warmly and took his coat, carefully hanging it up.

She acted as if she didn't smell the perfume that wasn't hers, or notice the single strand of chestnut hair clinging to the fabric.

"Honey, you just left. Why the sudden return?"

Adrian scrutinized her.

Even with the same features, their gazes were worlds apart.

Vivian felt a pang of irony.

How stupid did he think she was? Did he really believe he could swap people in and out like this and she wouldn't notice?

If he didn't love her anymore, why not just get a divorce? Why resort to such a cruel deception?

"Last night... did I tire you out?"

Adrian’s large hand suddenly circled her waist, giving it a suggestive squeeze.

Vivian found it disgusting.

He had hired a substitute, yet he couldn't stand the thought of that substitute actually touching her and making him a cuckold.

She feigned a playful laugh and twisted away.

"You're asking me? Don't you know what you did?"

In an instant, his grip tightened painfully on her wrist.

"You, last night..."

Fire flared in his eyes.

She looked up at him with an innocent, naive expression.

"What? You drank so much last night and slept so soundly. I tried to wake you, but you wouldn't budge. Have you been working too hard?"

Adrian’s expression flickered before he regained his mask of gentle concern.

"I thought I might have been too rough with you while I was drunk."

His gaze drifted to her chest.

With her prosthetics and clothes on, she looked normal, but he had seen that hideous scar with his own eyes.

A flash of revulsion crossed his face, and he let go of her, loosening his tie as he sat on the sofa.

"My head hurts. Rub my temples."

Vivian’s hands clenched at her sides before she stepped behind him, her cool fingers pressing against his head.

"My insurance is expiring. The doctor says there’s always a risk of recurrence after surgery, so I’ve increased the premium. You're still the beneficiary. I’ve prepared the contract; just sign where the pages are folded."

Adrian gave a satisfied grunt.

He was used to being pampered, used to everything in the house being handled for him.

He took the folder and the pen, signing his name with a flourish without even glancing at the contents.

Feeling her careful massage, he relaxed into the sofa and added with a hint of feigned guilt:

"Don't skip your check-ups. If anything happens, don't be afraid. I'll find you the best doctors. I won't let anything happen to you."

It was the same hollow promise he had made during his proposal.

Vivian felt none of the old devotion.

Back then, when her family went bankrupt and she was diagnosed with cancer at twenty-one, she had lost all her confidence.

He had proposed to her in the hospital ward with those exact words.

Now, they were nothing but a joke.

After ten minutes, Vivian retracted her hands and closed the folder.

As she leaned over, a stretch of her fair skin was exposed.

Below the curve of her hips were long, slender legs.

They were flawless, like the finest jade.

As her light scent wafted over him, Adrian opened his eyes to this view.

He had once been obsessed with her legs.

But because she was conservative and wouldn't let him touch her, and because he later became fixated on her surgical scar, his desire had vanished long ago.

Yet now, for some reason, his hand reached out uncontrollably to grasp her calf, sliding upward against her silky skin.

"Vivian..."

Vivian froze.

Before they were married, they had shared moments of intense passion, where Adrian would hold her as if he wanted to pull her into his very bones.

But in recent years, this was the most intimacy they had shared.

The touch made Adrian's heart race. He suddenly pulled her into his lap, his hand sliding under her skirt.

His breath was ragged as his lips pressed against her neck.

"Let’s have a baby."