He Begged Me To Cure His Secret Son

Adam Jackson sneered. “Ophelia, you’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

Before she could get a word out, he slapped her. Then, giving her no chance to react, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out onto the terrace. “That was for Sloane. You hit her—so now there are consequences.”

With that, he locked the terrace door, leaving Ophelia outside in nothing but her thin pajamas while the storm raged on.

“Adam, open the door! I can’t get wet—I can’t afford to get sick...” she pleaded, but the terrace was soundproof. Her words were lost beneath the howling wind and thunder.

Ophelia pounded helplessly on the glass, watching as Adam gently helped Sloane to her feet, wiped away her tears, and led them both back into the bedroom.

The icy wind lashed rain against Ophelia’s skin, each drop a stinging reminder of how alone she was. She sank down against the door, the cold seeping into her bones.

Her mind drifted, replaying memories of Adam racing toward her on his motorcycle, promising he’d always protect her, and the proud look on his face when she brought home trophy after trophy, declaring her his greatest pride. Now those memories were like blades, cutting deep.

Morning came, and the storm finally passed. Adam, wearing a robe, unlocked the terrace door.

He glanced at Ophelia—a pitiful figure huddled in the corner—and for a brief moment, his heart softened. But the words that followed were as cold as ever.

“Do you understand what you did wrong?”

Shivering, Ophelia bit her lip and nodded, forcing down everything she really felt.

“Good,” Adam said, satisfied. “Sloane’s presence doesn’t change your status as Mrs. Jackson. Cairo will call you ‘mom,’ too. After everything they’ve been through, you should be understanding. I’m thinking of transferring the trust fund we set up for our future children to Cairo. Any objections?”

Feeling the weight of Adam’s indifference, Ophelia’s heart went cold. She closed her eyes, fighting back tears, shook her head, and stepped back inside for warmth.

From that day on, Ophelia used work as an excuse to move out of the mansion.

A few days later, Adam’s mother called. “Tomorrow is your wedding anniversary with Adam. I’m planning a family dinner at the family estate.”

Ophelia no longer cared about anniversaries, but she couldn’t turn down Adam’s mother’s rare attempt at reconciliation.

The next day, she left work early and headed to the Jackson estate, only to find it was anything but a small family dinner. Distinguished guests from all over the city packed the house, and Adam was mingling, laughing with friends.

“Adam, business is booming for you,” a friend joked. “Congrats on snagging that land down south. We used to be so carefree, and now look at you—thriving!”

Adam answered seriously amid the teasing. “It’s because someone has always supported me quietly, letting me work without worry.”

His friends laughed. “Bragging again! We know your wife is gorgeous, but we’ve only ever seen her photo on the hospital’s staff awards wall. You should introduce her!”

Caught in the laughter, Adam just cleared his throat. “I wasn’t talking about her. I meant Sloane. She’s been through a lot with me.”

With one careless remark, he dismissed all of Ophelia’s past kindness and loyalty.