All Chapters of FOUR YEARS RAISING MY INFERTILE HUSBAND'S SECRET FAMILY : Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) The morning sun cast a faint glow over the quiet kitchen, warming the granite island where Amelia stood chopping fresh fruit for Zane’s breakfast. Down the hallway, the distant hum of the morning news played from the living room television. Everything felt peaceful, predictable, and ordinary—the kind of quiet morning routine Amelia took deep pride in maintaining for her family. Her phone, resting beside the wooden cutting board, buzzed with a sharp, vibration. Amelia set down her knife and wiped her hands on her apron. She picked up the screen, expecting a notification from Zane’s preschool or a reminder from Grace about afternoon tea. Instead, a text message from an unregistered, private number popped onto the display: Ask him about the double life in Rosewood Creek. Ask him why he gave away his own son. Amelia stared at the words, her brow furrowing in confusion. She tapped the screen, but there was no sender identity, no signature, and no follow-up

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) The explosive argument erupted without warning, shattering the quiet dignity of the Cole estate late on Thursday afternoon. Amelia was in the kitchen preparing dinner when the heavy front doors slammed open, followed immediately by the harsh, echoed shouts of two men echoing down the high-ceilinged hallway. "You are destroying this family's legacy, Nathan!" Marcus's voice roared, raw with a terrifying, unfiltered fury. "You sit at the head of the board pretending to be a savior, but you're nothing more than a thief!" Amelia dropped her kitchen towel, her heart leaping into her throat. She hurried out toward the main foyer, arriving just in time to see Marcus gripping Nathan by the collar of his shirt against the marble staircase railing. Nathan’s suit jacket was twisted, his face flushed red with anger, though he maintained a rigid, icy posture. "Get your hands off me, Marcus," Nathan hissed, his voice trembling with contained rage. "You're out of your

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) The rain had cleared by early evening, leaving behind a crisp, cool autumn night. In the main dining room, Amelia was setting the table for three—just herself, Nathan, and Grace. After the stressful week with Marcus, she had spent the afternoon preparing Grace’s favorite herb-roasted chicken and warm vegetable soup, hoping a quiet dinner would help restore a sense of calm to the household. The front doorbell chimed, its clear ring echoing down the hallway. Amelia set down the silverware, slightly surprised. "I wasn't expecting anyone this late," she murmured softly to herself. She walked to the foyer and pulled open the heavy front door. Standing on the porch was Olivia, wearing a tailored cream trench coat, a designer handbag slung elegantly over her arm, and a smooth, radiant smile on her face. "Amelia! Good evening," Olivia said warmly, stepping into the foyer before Amelia even had a chance to invite her inside. "I hope I’m not intruding. I was in

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) The week spent at Grace’s estate had felt unnaturally long. Amelia had stayed by Grace’s side every day, making sure her heart rate remained steady, serving herbal teas, and keeping the lingering tension over Marcus's exile from weighing too heavily on the family matriarch. But with Grace finally regaining her strength, it was time for Amelia and Nathan to return to their own home across town. Amelia finished packing their overnight bags in the upstairs guest room. As she zipped the leather suitcase, her mind drifted to the house waiting for them—the grand estate where she and Nathan lived alongside his siblings, Marcus and Priya. With Marcus banished to the coastal property for a few months, the house would feel strangely quiet. But more than that, Amelia wondered how Priya was handling the news. Priya was fiercely protective of her brothers, but she hated family conflict even more than Grace did. Downstairs in the foyer, Nathan stood by the entra

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) Saturday morning brought a light, misty rain that wrapped the estate in a quiet stillness. In the kitchen, Amelia stood by the stove stirring a pot of warm oatmeal for Zane. Across the room, Nathan sat at the island counter in his casual weekend cardigan, sipping black coffee while scrolling through messages on his tablet. On the surface, it was a picture-perfect weekend scene. But Amelia’s eyes, soft and attentive as ever, caught the small, weary details in her husband's posture. She noticed how Nathan kept rubbing the back of his neck, his thumb tracing a tight, stressed knot. She noticed how his coffee cup went cold untouched while he stared through his tablet screen. And she noticed how, despite his relaxed tone, he seemed carrying an immense, invisible weight. "Sorry, Daddy," Zane said softly, accidentally dropping his plastic spoon onto the hardwood floor. "It's alright, buddy," Nathan said quickly, forcing a warm smile that didn't quite