All Chapters of FOUR YEARS RAISING MY INFERTILE HUSBAND'S SECRET FAMILY : Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) The steady hum of the highway tires was calming, blending with the soft jazz music playing inside the SUV. Outside the tinted glass windows, the surrounding landscape had gradually shifted from the rolling hills of the suburban estates to dense, pine-forested mountainsides bathed in the rich, amber glow of the setting autumn sun. Amelia glanced into the wide rearview mirror with a look of fond tenderness. Zane was fast asleep in his child seat, his head tilted sideways against his plush travel pillow, his small fingers still loosely curved around the red wooden locomotive he had refused to leave behind in the foyer. "He didn't even make it past the first mountain pass," Amelia said softly, a gentle, contented smile lighting up her features as she turned back to look across the console at her husband. Nathan kept one hand comfortably relaxed on the leather steering wheel, his dark eyes fixed on the winding mountain road ahead. His posture was completely

Amelia’s POV — Third Person "Do you think the fish are awake yet, Daddy?" Zane asked, his little boots thumping rhythmically against the wooden planks of the long private dock. Saturday morning came with a clear blue sky reflected across the calm lake. A cool mountain breeze moved through the tall pine trees, carrying the fresh smell of cedar, damp moss, and pine needles. Nathan walked beside his son, dressed in a comfortable cream cable-knit sweater and dark jeans. In one hand, he carried a small child-sized fishing rod, while the other carefully balanced a cardboard tray holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. "The fish are definitely awake, buddy," Nathan answered with a soft laugh. He set the tray down on a sturdy wooden bench near the end of the pier. "But they're probably still deciding whether they want breakfast." Zane's eyes widened with excitement. "They eat breakfast too?" He asked "What do they eat?" "Little fish food." Nathan replied "Can we give them some?" Za

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) "Did you remember to pull the secondary draft shutter completely down, Nathan?" Amelia asked, stepping into the lodge's great room while wrapping her heavy ivory wool robe tightly around her waist against the late-night chill. The deep, heavy stillness of late Saturday night had settled completely over the mountain valley. Outside the thick, floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the cold wind whistled softly through the tall white pines, but inside, the massive stone fireplace crackled with a gentle, dying embers glow that painted the entire room in rich, warm shades of shadow and glowing amber. "It’s already locked tight, Ames," Nathan replied smoothly, stepping out of the small side kitchen carrying two steaming mugs of spiced herbal tea. He wore dark lounge trousers and a comfortable gray jersey shirt, looking entirely relaxed and unburdened as he crossed the hardwood floor toward the broad leather sofa. "The chimney flue is properly set, and the central the

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) “Did the legal team send over the final signatures for the northern easement, or are we still waiting on Arthur Vance’s clerk?” Amelia asked as she stepped into the estate’s ground-floor study with a tray of fresh mint tea. Sunday afternoon light filled the room with a soft, warm glow, casting long shadows across the dark wooden bookcases and Persian rug. Outside, the estate grounds lay quiet beneath a pale sky, with only the gentle breeze moving the leaves. Nathan sat behind his grandfather’s wide oak desk, his tie loosened slightly at the collar, a gold fountain pen resting loosely between his fingers. His dark eyes carried the quiet, triumphant energy of a man who had spent his morning standing at the top floor of a skyscraper and looking down at an empire he had helped build. There was confidence in his posture, but there was also something softer in the way his expression changed when he saw Amelia. A smile immediately touched his lips. “Vance’s c

Amelia’s POV (Third Person) The soft, calming sound of classical piano music drifted through the estate’s main living room, mixing with the rhythmic click-clack of wooden train cars moving along a long track spread across the oriental rug. The dining room table had been cleared, and the quiet darkness of early night had settled outside the large bay windows. Inside, the room was warm and inviting. A small fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, dancing patterns of amber light across the polished wooden floors and tall plastered walls. Amelia sat on the velvet sofa, a soft wool blanket resting over her lap as she held a fresh cup of tea. She watched Marcus kneel beside Zane on the rug, carefully fitting a curved wooden track piece into place to complete a wide loop around the coffee table. "If we connect this bridge piece right here, Zane," Marcus said, his deep voice calm and patient, "the engine can travel all the way from the station near the sofa to the dining room rug withou