He Cheated Before Our Wedding, So I Slept With My Future Uncle‑in‑Law

Sol Smith stared at Zamir like she was looking at a stranger. Shock flickered across her face, followed by distance. Like she had never really known the man standing in front of her.

Memories came rushing back—their first winter near the orphanage. The cold had been brutal, the north wind slicing their skin like icy knives. The children huddled outside with Mrs. Quinn, stomping their feet and rubbing their hands together for warmth. Cheeks flushed, eyes bright with joy.

She remembered Zamir at the gate, his gaze softening as he watched them. He didn’t say a word. He just walked to the bakery down the street and came back with bags of warm spiced honey cakes, handing them out to the kids himself.

Only later did Sol Smith learn that Zamir’s childhood had mirrored theirs.

He’d been an orphan too, raised in a rural home where thin blankets were all that stood between him and the cold. Holidays meant cold bread and salted meat—not feasts.

Once, he’d taken her hand and looked her straight in the eye. “Sol Smith, I know what it’s like to have no one to lean on. I want these kids to feel a little warmth—something I never had.”

Back then, his empathy had been real. His voice had been full of genuine care.

It was that tender side hidden beneath his tough exterior that moved her, made her want to build a life with him.

She’d believed people who survived hardship knew how to recognize kindness and gratitude better than anyone.

Now, the man in front of her was tearing that tenderness apart with cold indifference.

“Zamir,” Sol Smith’s voice trembled with a disappointment so deep it hurt, “do you remember what you said? You understood their loneliness. You wanted to bring those children warmth. And now you’re threatening to destroy their home just to get to me?”

The kindness vanished from Zamir’s face, replaced by something chilling. “That was then. Now is different. Back then, I had nothing—I understood what they were going through. Now I have bigger ambitions. And you, Sol Smith—you’re too softhearted to let those kids suffer.”

Sol Smith looked at him, grief pooling in her eyes. “Zamir, you haven’t just betrayed us. You’ve betrayed yourself—the part of you that once looked for warmth in the cold. You’ve changed so much you don’t even know who you are.”

“People change, Sol Smith. But my love for you remains constant.” Zamir pulled out a set of keys and pressed them into her hand. “I bought the house back. Everything’s waiting for you to come home.”

He gripped her hand and led her to the car.

“Sol…” Mrs. Quinn called after her.

Sol Smith rolled down the window, met Mrs. Quinn’s worried gaze, and gave a small shake of her head.

“Take care of the children. And yourself.”

The words sounded like goodbye.

Mrs. Quinn’s eyes welled up. “You take care, too.”

...

Half an hour later, the car pulled up outside the house in Sandy Bay.

Zamir hurried to open her door. Sol Smith’s expression didn’t change.

Inside, everything was exactly as it had been. The things she’d thrown out were back in place.

Like nothing had ever happened.

“Zamir, what’s the point?” She spoke with her back to him, her voice cold.

Zamir stepped closer and rested his hands gently on her shoulders, his tone as smooth as ever. “You don’t understand business. Those shares are worthless to you. After we’re married, you’ll have everything you want. Just settle into being Mrs. Peterson.”

He set a share transfer agreement in front of her.

Sol Smith turned, her smile sharp and mocking. “What’s done is done, Zamir. Don’t be greedy. People who want everything end up with nothing.”

“Mrs. Peterson doesn’t need to worry.”

His smile was warm, but his eyes were cold. His words cut. “You don’t have to sign. But I can’t guarantee the orphanage will remain untouched.”

“You’re despicable!”

Sol Smith slapped his hands away. Her fingers went white under the pressure, nails digging into her palms. Her eyes blazed—so fierce they nearly consumed the man in front of her.

Zamir’s hands froze. The warmth in his face faded a little, but he stayed confident. He’d found her weak spot.

“Don’t blame me, Sol Smith.”

He reached to touch her face, his voice tinged with false regret. “I’m just afraid of losing you.”

“Even now, you’re lying!”

Sol Smith turned her face away, her voice cold with disappointment. “Are you afraid of losing me—or of me selling the shares and threatening your control over the company?”

In the end, he loved only himself. This was all about trapping her, feeding his need for control.

Then Zamir’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and cut the call, but it rang again, insistent.

“Aren’t you going to answer? What if it’s urgent?”

Zamir’s face hardened as he answered. Whatever he heard made his expression darken.

“Alright, I’ll come.”

Before leaving, he told Sol Smith, “Think it over. I’ll be back for you tomorrow.”

...

In the hospital room, Carly Perkins was curled up in the corner of her bed. She clutched a pair of scissors in one hand; the other shielded her stomach. She looked like a frightened bird, eyes fierce and protective, letting no one near.

When Zamir entered, she dropped the scissors and stumbled barefoot into his arms, her shoulders shaking.

“Zamir, please let me keep this child. I promise I won’t cause problems or compete with Sol Smith.”

Tears streaked her face, her voice pleading. “Sol Smith won’t let you near her. I’ll give this child to Sol Smith to raise. You need a child of your own.”

She knew Zamir’s priorities.

Sol refused closeness, and Zamir resented it.

Carly had sacrificed everything for him, yet Zamir couldn’t let Sol Smith go.

Otherwise, she wouldn’t have tolerated two years without incident.

She understood better than anyone how cold he could be.

Zamir looked at her tearful, pathetic face. His eyes hardened as he gripped her chin firmly.

“Are you willing?”

“As long as I can be with you, nothing else matters.”

Sol wouldn’t let him near her, and he couldn’t force her. But he did need a child. Carly had stayed with him for two years—obedient, no trouble.

Sol Smith loved children. She showed compassion for those at the orphanage, so she would surely care for a child given to her, raising it as her own.

His grip loosened. His voice held no warmth.

“I’ll take you back. Behave and take care of the baby. Keep this away from Sol.”