Chapter 0003

Charlotte’s POV

The tension in the living room was thick enough to suffocate me.

Mrs. Voss stood across from me with her perfectly straight posture and cold, assessing eyes. She had always carried herself like a queen walking through a court that existed only to serve her. Even now, standing in my living room uninvited, she looked like she owned the place.

I folded my arms slowly, trying to keep my anger from spilling out.

What bothered me the most was not even her presence. It was the fact that she clearly knew about my hospital visit.

Which meant Alexander had told her without asking me. Without even mentioning it.

The silence between us stretched uncomfortably until she finally spoke.

“Why are you barren?” Her voice was calm, but the words struck me like a slap.

My jaw tightened in anger. “I’m not barren,” I replied sharply.

She tilted her head slightly as if studying a disappointing object. “Then why have you not given my son a child?”

I inhaled slowly, trying to remain respectful. “Alexander and I have only been married for a year,” I said. “These things take time.”

Mrs. Voss took a few slow steps around the room, examining the furniture as though she were inspecting a property she planned to purchase.

“In my family,” she said slowly, “a woman who cannot bear children is considered a great misfortune.”

My patience snapped. “I said I am not barren.”

Her eyes flicked back to mine. “Then prove it.”

My hands clenched. “What exactly do you expect me to do?” I asked.

Her lips curled slightly. “Give my son a child.”

I felt heat rising in my chest. “That is not something that can be scheduled like a business meeting.”

Mrs. Voss’s expression hardened. “You are married to a man whose legacy spans continents,” she said. “Do you understand the importance of heirs in a family like ours?”

“I understand perfectly well,” I replied through clenched teeth.

“Then perhaps you should also understand the consequences of failure.”

The words made my stomach tighten.

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Let me tell you something, Charlotte.”

I stared at her silently.

“In my husband’s family,” she continued, “there was once a woman who married into the house but failed to produce a child for five years.”

Her tone had grown darker. “At first everyone was patient. They gave her time. They told her not to worry.”

I felt a chill creeping along my spine.

“But eventually,” she said, “the whispers began.”

My throat felt dry.

“They said she was cursed. That she had brought bad luck into the family.”

Mrs. Voss stopped walking and faced me directly. “The pressure grew worse with every passing year.”

My heart was pounding now.

“Eventually,” she continued calmly, “the husband’s parents arranged another marriage for their son.”

My eyes widened.

“The woman was sent away,” Mrs. Voss finished coldly. “Quietly. Without dignity and stripped off everything.”

My chest tightened.

“She disappeared from the family completely. No one ever spoke about her again.”

Silence filled the room.

Then I exploded. “That will not happen to me!” My voice echoed against the walls.

Mrs. Voss raised an eyebrow. “Then perhaps you should ensure it does not.”

Before I could reply, my phone rang. The sudden sound felt like a lifeline.

I glanced at the screen and it’s my secretary calling. I immediately answered. “Yes?”

“Mrs Voss, the investors for this morning’s meeting have arrived.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” I hung up and grabbed my bag.

“I have work to attend to,” I said stiffly.

Mrs. Voss gave a faint smile. “Of course you do.”

I did not say another word as I walked out of the house.

The moment I sat inside my car and closed the door, I let out a long breath. My hands trembled slightly as I started the engine.

The drive to my office felt longer than usual as Mrs. Voss’s words replayed in my head again and again.

A woman who cannot bear children is considered a great misfortune.

The husband’s parents arranged another marriage.

She was sent away.

I gripped the steering wheel harder as anger burned inside me.

But beneath the anger, there was something worse. ‘Fear.’

By the time I reached my office building, I had forced myself to calm down.

The investors’ meeting went smoothly, though I barely remembered most of the conversation. My mind kept drifting back to the morning.

When the meeting finally ended, I remained in my office chair staring out the window.

The city stretched below me in a maze of buildings and traffic.

Before I married Alexander, my life had been different. More Simpler.

I had been filled with ambition, eager to work on multiple architectural projects. My calendar had once been packed with design proposals and construction consultations.

But after the wedding, everything changed.

Alexander and I had started working on several joint ventures, and I had willingly set aside some of my own plans to focus on those collaborations.

Especially the Seattle headquarters project.

I sighed softly as my phone vibrated on the desk.

It was Alexander calling. I simply stared at the screen and let it ring.

A few minutes later it rang again and I still ignored it.

Then my secretary knocked on the door. “Mrs Voss?”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Voss is on the line. He asked if you could return his call.”

“No,” I said flatly. My secretary hesitated but nodded.

An hour later my office door opened without warning and Alexander walked in.

He loosened his tie as he approached my desk. “Charlotte, what is going on?”

I leaned back in my chair. “You tell me.”

His brows furrowed. “I have been calling you for an hour. Why are you not answering?”

“Because I did not feel like it.”

He stared at me in confusion. “Did something happen?”

I folded my arms. “Why did you tell your mother about my hospital checkup?”

His eyes widened in surprise. “I did not.”

“Do not lie to me.”

“I am not lying.”

I stood up from my chair. “She came to our house this morning,” I said sharply. “She knew everything.”

Alexander looked genuinely puzzled. “I did not tell her,” he repeated. “She must have found out herself.”

“How?”

“I do not know. Maybe someone at the hospital recognized her name and mentioned it.”

I stared at him, still furious. “That does not change what she said to me.”

“What did she say?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “It does not matter.”

Alexander stepped closer. “It clearly matters.”

I looked down. “She said my duty as your wife is to give you children,” I murmured. “And I have failed.”

“Charlotte—”

“She is right,” I said bitterly. “That is the truth.”

Alexander reached for my hands. “Stop saying that.”

“But it is true.”

Tears burned in my eyes. “I cannot even do the one thing I am supposed to do.”

“Charlotte,” he said firmly. “Listen to me.”

But the tears were already falling. “I am the problem,” I whispered.

Alexander pulled me into his arms. “You are not the problem.”

“Yes I am.”

He lifted my chin so I had to look at him. “You are my wife,” he said quietly. “Not a child-producing machine.”

I laughed weakly through my tears. “That is not how your mother sees it.”

“I will deal with my mother,” he promised. “You do not have to worry about her.”

I wiped my eyes.

“Where are we supposed to go for our dinner tonight?” His expression softened. “I was hoping you would still come.”

I hesitated then I nodded. “Alright.”

Later that evening Alexander took me somewhere new. It was a unique place—a restaurant combined with a small theatre stage.

While we ate, actors performed a comedy play just a few meters away.

The audience laughed loudly throughout the performance, and slowly the tension in my chest began to fade.

At one point Alexander leaned toward me. “See?” he said softly. “There are still ways to enjoy life.”

I smiled faintly.

When the play ended and we walked out together, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders.

“You know,” he said, “having children is not the only thing we can achieve together.”

I looked up at him.

“There are many other things we can build.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Our companies,” he replied. “Our projects.”

He paused. “For example, getting the Seattle headquarters back on track.”

My mind lit up. “That is actually possible,” I said slowly. “If we approach the construction board directly and address their concerns—”

“Exactly.”

By the time we arrived home, we were both energized again.

Inside the bedroom, Alexander pulled me closer. His lips brushed gently against mine and the kiss deepened slowly.

His hands moved along my back as he whispered my name.

I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling warmth spread through my chest as the tension between us finally melted.

His lips moved along my neck, sending a soft shiver down my spine. “Charlotte,” he murmured and I pulled him closer. I wanted more of him and I could barely hold back.

But just as the moment began to deepen, his phone rang and Alexander groaned softly.

“Ignore it,” I whispered as I was already dripping wet.

But the phone kept ringing and ringing.

He sighed and hesitantly reached for it. “It is my assistant,” he said.

He put the call on speaker. “What?” The frustration was clear in his voice.

The assistant’s voice came through urgently. “Sir, sorry for the disturbance but you need to see this immediately.”

“What is it? It better be worth this disturbance” Alexander groaned.

“There is news trending all over the media right now.”

Alexander frowned. “What news? Spill it already.”

The assistant hesitated. “It is about Mrs. Charlotte Voss.”

My stomach tightened on hearing my name mentioned.

“What about her?” Alexander asked, staring briefly at me.

The assistant took a breath. “They are reporting that your wife is barren.”