My Husband’s IVF Affair With His Secretary

During the eight months I was pregnant, Dominick and his secretary booked hotel rooms nearly two hundred times. Despite knowing the precious child growing inside me, I chose to ignore the situation entirely. However, the night before my due date, I inadvertently overheard Dominick whispering on the phone to his secretary in the stairwell: "Relax. We used your eggs through IVF, so the baby won't inherit Bridget's health issues. Once the baby arrives safely, I'll think about divorcing her. Just give me a little more time, alright?" After enduring this marriage for seven years, this revelation tore open old wounds, cutting deeper into the scars on my heart. Exhausted from years of arguing, I called my father directly: "I've repaid the debt to Dominick's family. Now it's time for you to fulfill your promise." --- "Bridget, you're about to become a mother. If there's a problem with Dominick, talk it out. You’re both adults; why joke about such serious things?" My father dismissed my words as mere venting, believing I was just frustrated with Dominick.

Chapters

Chapter 2

The intense contractions had me teetering on the edge of consciousness, writhing in pain. Just before I was wheeled into the delivery room, the nurse quietly asked the now hurriedly arriving Dominick:

"Mr. Lopez, would you like to be in the delivery room for the birth?"

"It can be a very painful process, and having you there might help ease her mind."

My eyes burned with tears, almost forcing them shut. Through the haze, I could only make out the slight downturn of Dominick's lips.

"I think I'll stay out. I... I tend to faint at the sight of blood. It's not really my thing."

He quickly let go of my hand, wiping the blood from his fingertips on the sheets with a look of distaste. He stepped back several paces, terrified of encountering more blood.

Besides his fear of blood, Dominick also had severe OCD. Consequently, we rarely shared any intimate moments over the years as a couple. I never tried to force him to change.

When I was six weeks pregnant, noticing the chill in the air, I took a coat to his office. There, I stumbled upon Dominick in a compromising position with his secretary, Anne Simpson.

Through the blinds, I saw him accept a chocolate from Anne's lips, his expression relaxed and amused. He even teasingly remarked:

"Anne, the chocolate tastes sweeter when you feed it to me. Maybe next time I should try some other treats?"

I was completely stunned, holding my breath, as the coat slipped from my grasp to the floor.

For someone who had only been with the company for a few months, he showed such indulgence to Anne Simpson. All these years, for Dominick's sake, even simple gestures like holding hands required preemptive sterilization.

It's laughable how selective his OCD truly was. Watching Dominick's figure grow indistinct, I said nothing further, simply shutting my eyes and letting the tears stream down my cheeks.

In the delivery room, over the course of more than ten hours, I fainted multiple times from exhaustion, only to be forcefully awakened by the doctors. The searing pain continued relentlessly, numbing my senses.

In my mind, Dominick's words from his proposal echoed:

"Bridget, you've always looked out for me. Let me be there for you now, okay?"

"I'll give you the happiness you've always wanted. I'll... be your happiness."

This man, who promised to stand by me no matter what, now waited outside the operating room.

Isn’t it ironic how all of this stems from his actions?

I woke again, unaware of how many times it had happened, to the sound of a baby's cry marking the end of my long ordeal. With a sigh of relief, I finally gave into total exhaustion and drifted into sleep, barely acknowledging the newborn.

The arrival of this new life brought me no joy. Like Dominick Lopez, he symbolized a future I intended to leave behind. Besides freedom, there was nothing else I desired.

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The numbers on my monitor ticked upward in a dizzying blur, a neon-green cascade that should have felt like victory. *Fifteen million dollars.* In one week. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling slightly. This was *Aetheria*. My code. My architecture. The culmination of three years of sleepless nights, caffeine overdoses, and missed birthdays. I sat in the cramped, windowless storage closet Maddox graciously called my "home office," listening to the hum of the server cooling fans. That sound was the heartbeat of our future—or so I’d let myself believe. I checked the time.

Billionaire Modern Romance

8.7

Claimed By The Ruthless Enzo

8.7

Naomi Ray would do anything to prevent her mother from dying in the hospital even though it involves stealing A fifty million dollars worth cufflinks from her best friend boss. What happens when this man turn out to be someone more dangerous than she thought. Enzo Vitale is a ruthless billionaire boss, who doesn't show mercy and he is the talk of the town. Everyone says he is dangerous, and had never seen him up close before. Until Naomi Ray made the most terrible mistake stealing from him.

Action Billionaire Modern

8.8

The Curvy Ex-Wife's Revenge: The Divorce He Gave, The Regret He Earned

8.8

Nicole had entered marriage with Walter, a man who never returned her feelings, bound to him through an arrangement made by their families rather than by choice. Even so, she had held onto the quiet belief that time might soften his heart and that one day he would learn to love her. However, that day never came. Instead, he treated her with constant contempt, tearing her down with cruel words and dismissing her as fat and manipulative whenever it suited him. After two years of a cold and distant marriage, Walter demanded a divorce, delivering his decision in the most degrading manner he could manage. Stripped of her dignity and exhausted by the humiliation, Nicole agreed to her friend Brenda's plan to make him see what he had lost. The idea was simple but daring. She would use another man to prove that the woman Walter had mocked and insulted could still be desired by someone else. All they had to do was hire a gigolo. Patrick had endured one romantic disappointment after another. Every woman he had been involved with had been drawn not to him, but to his wealth. As one of the heirs to a powerful and influential family, he had long accepted that this pattern was almost unavoidable. What Patrick wanted was far more difficult to find. He longed to fall in love with a woman who cared for him as a person, not for the name he carried or the fortune attached to it. One night, while he was at a bar, an attractive stranger approached him. Because of his appearance and composed demeanor, she mistook him for a gigolo. She made an unconventional proposal, one that immediately caught his interest and proved impossible for him to refuse.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.1

Declared Insane, I Came Back to Bury Him

9.1

Three years ago, Julian Sterling had me declared insane. He forged a doctor's signature, shipped me to a sedation clinic in Zurich, and told the world I was too fragile to survive his mother's death. He was right about one thing — Margaret Sterling was dead. He just forgot to mention he'd hidden her heart medication in his private safe while she asked for it. What Julian never knew: Margaret had already changed her will. She left the controlling share of the Sterling Empire — and the emerald ring that unlocked every offshore trust — to me. So I waited. I studied every move he made from that white room. I memorized his habits, his escort agency, his blind spots. And on the night he ordered a blonde who wouldn't ask questions, I made sure he got exactly what he paid for — a microphone in his collar and eighty-nine journalists outside his door. He thought he was confessing to a stranger. He was confessing to the woman his mother called her real heir. By the time he recognized my face, the board had already voted, the police had the pharmacy records, and his wife was standing beside me in crimson. He had three years to enjoy his stolen empire. I only needed one night to take it back. But as the handcuffs clicked shut, a photo slipped from my coat — and Julian finally saw the truth his mother had written on the back. Is revenge enough when the man you destroyed was the only family you had left?

Billionaire Modern Mystery

8.4

Mistaken Moonlight: The Cabin 1412 Affair

8.4

Katelyn Miller's romantic getaway turns into a nightmare when she catches her boyfriend, Mark, in the arms of another woman aboard the Love Boat cruise. Heartbroken and humiliated, she drowns her sorrows in alcohol—only to wake up in a stranger's bed after a passionate, mistaken encounter in cabin 1412. Two weeks later, Katelyn discovers she's pregnant. With Mark coldly cutting ties and her life in shambles, she tracks down the father: Alexander Sterling III, a wealthy, enigmatic lawyer who views their unexpected connection as a problem to be managed. But when he offers her a shocking proposal—a temporary marriage to secure his family's legacy—Katelyn must decide whether to accept his calculated arrangement or face single motherhood alone. As they navigate their forced proximity, secrets emerge: Alexander's lingering ties to another woman, Katelyn's growing doubts about his motives, and the undeniable chemistry that blurs the lines of their contract. But when betrayal strikes again, Katelyn must confront the painful truth—some mistakes can't be undone, and not all fairy tales have happy endings.

Billionaire Modern Romance

7.5

Reborn Heiress: Revenge On My Wedding Day

7.5

I lay paralyzed in a luxury Swiss clinic, my body a heavy sack of meat I no longer controlled. The heart monitor’s rhythmic beep was the only thing louder than the silence, a mocking countdown to my inevitable end. My fiancé, Jordan, walked in looking impeccable in the custom suit I had bought him for his birthday. He wasn't alone; my best friend, Chloe, followed him into the room, wearing the vintage Givenchy dress I had saved for our anniversary gala. Jordan didn't look like a grieving man; he looked bored as he held up a blue folder confirming that my family's offshore trust had finally cleared. Chloe giggled, leaning over me to ask if I finally realized it was the engagement wine she had spiked seven days ago. Jordan brushed a cold hand over my forehead, calling me a "perfect little asset" before pulling Chloe into a hungry kiss right over my dying body. To ensure there was no turning back, he pulled out a silver lighter and set my living will on fire, watching the only document that could have saved me turn to ash. I tried to scream, to curse them both to hell for stealing my life and my legacy, but all that came out was a wet, rattling wheeze. My own father, I would later learn, had known about the takeover and chose the profit over his own daughter's life. As the darkness swallowed me whole, I made a silent, desperate promise: if there was anything after this, I would come back and destroy every single one of them. I gasped, my body jerking upright as air rushed into my lungs like liquid fire. I wasn't in Switzerland, and there was no poison in my veins. I was back in my Manhattan bedroom, staring at a phone that read June 12—the morning of the wedding, the day I was supposed to die, and the day I decided to burn their world to the ground.

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My Husband’s IVF Affair With His Secretary

Chapter 2

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