Untouched for Three Years, I Carried His Rival’s Heir

Seven months pregnant, and Kieran brought his first love back to the estate. I felt nothing. After all, seven months ago, I had gotten pregnant with another man's baby.

In a way, it made us even. And soon, I would be free to leave.

Today was a routine prenatal checkup. At the private clinic, the doctor held a stack of reports, his brow furrowed as he studied my barely-there belly.

"Mrs. Thompson, you're due in about two months, but you're too thin and barely showing. You must pay attention to your nutrition."

"You've come for so many checkups, but the Underboss has never accompanied you. The baby you're carrying is the family heir. He should..."

Even for a doctor in the underworld used to seeing irresponsible husbands from arranged marriages, it was just a casual question.

Before he could finish, I cut him off, my voice light and unbothered.

"He couldn't make it. And the baby isn't his. Thank you for the reminder, I'll watch my diet."

I left him with that, walking calmly away as he stared in shock.

Even a doctor who had seen his share of this bloody business was stunned. He stood there, wide-eyed, for a long moment.

I was, after all, the wife of the Thompson family heir, a prominent figure myself.

He didn't snap out of it until his next patient came in. He managed a dismissive smile, thinking Mrs. Thompson must have fought with her husband and was just trying to provoke him.

After leaving the exam room, I gently stroked my small baby bump and set a countdown on my phone.

Two more months until this baby was born. Then, I could finally be free of Kieran Thompson and this damn alliance.

Watching the numbers on the screen tick down, I gripped my phone, a surge of strength flowing through me.

I was about to leave the clinic when I overheard two nurses whispering.

"Who is this Camilla, anyway? For a simple cold, the Underboss shut down an entire floor for her and had the chief physician see her personally."

My heart tightened at the name, but I didn't slow my pace.

Back at the estate, I came across two familiar figures at a turn in the rose garden.

Camilla was sitting on a stone bench, her cheeks slightly flushed, while Kieran knelt on one knee before her, his long, deft fingers holding her slender wrist.

His expression was intent as he carefully removed a tiny splinter from her hand.

The tender, protective way he held her was a bitter irony, considering his complete ignorance of my seven-month pregnancy.

His face, usually so stern, was now unusually gentle, a smile playing on his lips.

After removing the splinter, Kieran brought Camilla's finger to his lips and gently kissed the insignificant wound.

His focus broke only when I approached. He quickly dropped her hand and slowly stood up.

The moment his eyes met mine, the tenderness in them vanished.

He explained coolly, "Camilla wasn't feeling well last night, so I brought her over to get checked out. She just got a splinter, and I was helping her with it."

Hearing this, I stroked my belly and laughed bitterly to myself.

I was seven months pregnant with a baby he knew nothing about, yet he was so worked up over a tiny splinter in Camilla's hand.

But it didn't matter anymore. The baby wasn't his anyway.

I gave a slight, unconcerned smile and murmured, "I see."

Kieran frowned, his thin lips parting slightly. Before he could speak, I beat him to it, reciting the line he always used.

"I know. Camilla's family is in some trouble. She needs your protection."

My calm smile seemed to unsettle him.

He narrowed his eyes, studying me sharply.

He must have found my composure strange. I used to fight with him constantly over Camilla.

But now, my indifference was absolute, extending not just to Camilla, but to Kieran himself.

His gaze made me uncomfortable. My hand trembled, and the test results in my hand scattered across the floor.

I immediately bent to pick them up, but he had already seen the corner of one. "Test results? What are these?"

"Nothing. Just a routine check-up report," I said, stuffing them into my purse.

Kieran stared at me, searching for a flicker of panic or any other crack in my composure.

But my heart was still. I felt nothing.

Suddenly, Camilla clutched his hand, her voice soft and delicate. "Kieran, my hand still hurts a little. Will you walk me back so I can put some medicine on it?"

Kieran turned to see Camilla's pitiful, innocent face, and his expression instantly softened. "Alright," he agreed.

Of course. Between Camilla and me, his choice was never me.

"Scarlett. Go on ahead. I'll find you later."

Without another glance at me, he turned and helped Camilla walk back toward the house.

I watched them go, completely unconcerned, and headed to my room.

Sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room, I gazed out at the vibrant, blooming flowers. They had been replaced with roses.

Camilla's favorite.

Memories flooded my mind.

It hadn't always been like this between Kieran and me.

Our marriage was an alliance between the Valerio and Thompson families. Though Kieran was cold and kept everyone at a distance, he had been considerate enough after we were married.

He was an heir with status, looks, and power. He kept his distance from other women, filled the estate with my favorite flowers, and would pull me into his arms during a thunderstorm to whisper, "I'm here. Don't be afraid."

So even though it was an arranged marriage, I fell hopelessly in love.

But after three years, I had to face a harsh reality: we had never once been intimate.

I had always thought he was simply a cold person, uninterested in physical desire.

Until the night Kieran came home blind drunk, losing control for once, and held me, whispering Camilla's name over and over.

That was when I learned he had a great love, a first love, before our marriage.

Camilla's family had fallen on hard times, and she had moved to Italy with them, forcing the two apart.

Perhaps it was this unresolved past that made it impossible for him to forget her.

Besides, how could a latecomer ever compare to a first love?

Clearly, I was no exception.

Even though I was the Underboss's legitimate wife, I was just a wife, a role anyone could have filled.

Later, while tidying his room, I found his diary. Every page was filled with his longing for Camilla. For years, it had never stopped.

What broke my heart the most was when I finally got a clear look at the tattoo on his chest. It was her name, Camilla.

It wasn't that his heart was impenetrable. It was that the throne inside it had always been occupied.