My Sterile Husband Brought Home His Lovechild

On my seventh wedding anniversary, I personally whip up a nice feast.

But my husband, Davis Stark, only takes a few bites before telling me that he has something urgent to deal with at the company.

I trail behind him the whole time, only to witness him walk into a fancy banquet hall, where a banquet is being held for his newborn fraternal twins.

Davis even produces a black card and gives it to his secretary, Sonia Robertson, in a solemn manner.

"Thank you for your hard work, Sonia. In the future, I will give all of my assets to the children."

Sonia's expression lights up immediately. Then, she presses her lips against Davis' happily.

"It's an honor to be able to give birth to your children, Mr. Stark."

I let out a cold chuckle as I open the banquet hall's door.

I want to see how on earth is Sonia capable of giving birth to Davis' children when he's already infertile, to begin with.

The lavish birthday celebration had been in full swing, but the moment I stepped in, the entire room fell into a dead silence.

My gaze landed coldly on Davis Stark.

"Davis, how exactly are you going to explain this to me?"

We had been together since our college days and eventually got married. For the past two years, I had clearly felt Davis growing distant.

I had simply assumed it was just the natural loss of novelty that came with being a long-married couple. I never once imagined he would cheat on me behind my back.

A flicker of panic crossed Davis' face. His eyes darted away, avoiding mine. He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Instead, Sonia Robertson walked up with two glasses of red wine in hand.

"Mrs. Stark, please don't be upset," she said lightly, as if nothing were wrong. "Mr. Stark knows you can't have children, so he only asked me to carry two heirs for him. This won't affect your position as Mrs. Stark at all."

She downed a glass in one go and then held out the other toward me.

"From now on, I'll be counting on you to take good care of my children, Mrs. Stark."

That blatant provocation snapped something in me. I took the glass and splashed the wine straight onto her.

"Who do you think you are?" I said sharply. "Since when do you get to interrupt when I'm speaking to Davis?"

Davis immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her from me. His expression immediately turned cold.

"Sonia was only trying to explain things to you out of kindness, and you actually attacked her? How can you be this vicious? How are you even fit to be a mother?"

Without giving me a chance to respond, he added, "Starting tomorrow, I'll have Sonia move into Stark Manor. She'll take care of the children."

A trace of smugness flashed in Sonia's eyes. She leaned into Davis' arms and whispered, as if she had been wronged, "Mr. Stark, I can endure a little bullying. Please just explain things properly to Mrs. Stark. Don't let me and the children come between you two."

Davis looked at me with open disdain. "What is there to explain? She's been with me for seven years and hasn't even borne me a child. I've let her keep the title of Mrs. Stark as a courtesy. That's already more than enough respect for her!"

The guests around us immediately chimed in.

"With a family as powerful as the Starks, how could they not need an heir? If she can't give him children, why should she stop someone else from doing it?"

"He didn't even divorce her. That's already showing her mercy for the sake of their past. How does she still have the nerve to come here and make a scene?"

"If I were Mr. Stark, I would have gotten rid of her long ago."

Hearing all the flattery around him, Davis straightened slightly, as if he had been vindicated.

"Isabella Rowe, apologize to Sonia right now. I can still spare you some dignity and let you walk away with enough to survive."

I had been married to Davis for seven years without a child. The reason wasn't me, but him—he was naturally infertile and suffered from azoospermia.

I had known the truth for years, but I never exposed it. I had protected his pride and quietly taken all the blame onto myself. Now, I realized I had only been feeding gratitude to a dog that would eventually turn around and bite.

I looked at him, grinding out each word, "Davis, the real problem has always been you. You're the one who's infertile."