He Begged Me To Cure His Secret Son

In the eighth year of their marriage, Ophelia McDonald found herself in the ER at some ungodly hour—face-to-face with a familiar figure. Her husband, Adam Jackson, was supposed to be asleep beside her at home.

“Adam—what are you doing here?”

Startled, Adam’s face went pale for half a second before he pulled himself together. Behind him stood his secretary, Sloane Russell, eyes red from crying.

A colleague handed Ophelia a patient chart.

“Dr. McDonald, flu season’s in full swing and we’re drowning in the ER. Can you take this fracture case?”

The name on the chart made Ophelia’s fingers tremble. A cold chill washed over her. Cairo Jackson. Adam Jackson’s son—and Sloane Russell’s.

Adam didn’t even flinch at being caught. He just sighed, impatient. “If I’d known they were going to call you, I would’ve brought you along from home.”

Beside him, young Cairo cried out in pain. “Dad, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been messing around on your motorcycle.”

Racing. Again? Ophelia’s hands paused. A flood of memories hit her all at once, until she couldn’t tell whether her chest ached more from pain or disappointment.

Eight years ago, when she was just another invisible intern, Adam was deep into motorcycle racing. He was always landing himself in the hospital with some reckless stunt—until he met a doctor whose hands shook while she bandaged him.

Reading her name tag, Adam teased her. “Dr. McDonald, you sure you know how to bandage? Or am I just your practice dummy?”

“Of course I do!” she’d shot back, indignant. Adam’s grin only widened. He leaned in closer, charming her without even trying. “Even if I am, I’d let you practice on me forever.”

Her heart skipped. Under his warm gaze, love took root—fast, wild, and completely out of control.

When word got out that Adam Jackson, heir to his family’s fortune, was dating an intern from a modest background, his family was united in their disapproval. Adam didn’t argue. He just kept racing—high stakes, no brakes—and kept ending up in Ophelia’s clinic until she was in tears, begging him to stop.

“You’re going to get yourself killed.”

With his leg in a heavy cast, he pulled her into his arms, eyes full of love. “Marry me, and I’ll stop.”

After the wedding, he sold the motorcycles and settled into his role in the family business. For a while, he even seemed content. But now Ophelia saw his promises for what they were—the last snow of winter, melting under the first warm rays.

“Stop crying. Go online and pick out a purse you like. I’ll look after Cairo,” Adam said, his voice gentle with Sloane.

Ophelia kept her face calm, but every word twisted the knife in her chest. She treated Cairo’s injury, gave the aftercare instructions, and retreated to her office.

Adam followed her in, casual as ever. “Cairo was an accident. Sloane and I were both drunk.”

“But a child was born,” Ophelia said, her voice edged with sarcasm. “You had nine months to deal with this, and this is the best you could do?”

The mockery landed. Adam’s gentleness vanished, replaced by ice. “Ophelia, we’ve been married eight years. You always had reasons for not having kids. If you don’t want to, someone else has to.”

Ophelia let out a bitter laugh. “Then let’s divorce. Let Sloane give you children out in the open.”

Caught off guard by how easily she said it, Adam’s eyes widened with anger. “Why should we divorce just because you say so?”

The standoff broke when Sloane appeared, tearful. “Adam, Cairo’s in pain. He wants his dad.”

Under Ophelia’s icy stare, Sloane bit her lip and knelt. “Mrs. Jackson, I know I’m wrong, but the child is innocent. He just wants his father. Please don’t take that small comfort away from him.”

People passing by the office started to whisper and point.

“How heartless. She’s on her knees, and the doctor does nothing.”

“Of course—it’s not her kid. Doctors see sickness every day. They’re all cold-blooded.”

Adam pulled Sloane to her feet and added with a sneer, “You’d think after all these years, someone under Dr. McDonald’s care might’ve suffered.”

The murmurs turned into curses. Someone even shouted that they’d report Ophelia.

Staring at Adam, Ophelia saw a stranger—selfish and cruel in ways she had never imagined.

All these years, she had given him nothing but care. She never expected to be betrayed by the person she shared her life with.

She gave Adam one last look, full of disappointment, and walked out of her office.

Outside the hospital, she called a lawyer friend.

“I need you to draft a divorce agreement.”

Her friend was stunned. “Did you and Adam have a fight? He almost risked his life racing for you. What could possibly be more important than that?”

Ophelia placed a protective hand over her stomach, her voice heavy with resignation.

“Dignity and freedom are more important.”