A Love Without Ripples

The Davenport family, one of the wealthiest in the nation, had an unwritten rule.

Any woman who married into the family had to bear a son before she could be officially welcomed with a marriage certificate.

I had been engaged to Donovan Davenport for eight years. I had tried everything, but I could never get pregnant.

But his young assistant, the one hed had a one-night stand with, was a different story.

She got pregnant before I ever could.

The entire Davenport household laughed at my misfortune, my lack of "blessing." They called me a cursed star, fit only to serve tea in their grand mansion.

At the annual ancestral tribute ceremony, they even had her, Isabelle, take my rightful place.

Everyone expected me to cry, to throw a tantrum. They thought I would run to Donovan, begging him to defend my honor.

But I just quietly packed my bags.

Three days ago, I had finally found my real family.

He was coming to take me home.

And he would make the Davenports pay for everything they owed me, with interest.

1.

The Davenport Corporation had raked in billions last year, so this year's ancestral ceremony was more lavish than ever. The custom-made ceremonial gown alone cost a small fortune.

Isabelle, holding the hem of her extravagant dress, looked at me with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Victoria, darling, my shoes are a bit dirty. Would you be a dear and clean them for me? I can't possibly bend over in this gown; it's far too precious."

She extended a delicate foot towards me.

Tied around her ankle was the same red cord Donovan had personally tied for her last night.

It was the one I had prayed for years ago at a shrine known for healing miracles. I had cast the sacred lots dozens of times, kneeling for three days and nights, begging for Donovan's recovery from a severe illness.

Now, the man was healthy.

But the love was gone.

They say the first thing a cripple does when he can walk again is throw away his crutch. Donovan, the man who had once sworn to love me for all eternity, was no exception.

I was leaving soon. I didn't want to cause a scene. I ignored Isabelle's provocation, set down my teacup, and headed for my room.

As I reached the grand doorway, the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, blocked my path. Her face was a mask of ridicule, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Miss Thorne, the Davenports have standards. Only the proper lady of the house may use the main entrance. A penniless orphan with no name, a liability like you, will use the side door with the rest of the staff!"

Her arrogance was so blatant I couldn't help but sneer. "Are you really spouting that Dark Age nonsense to my face?"

The moment the words left my mouth, Isabelle frowned dramatically. "How dare you! To speak with such disrespect before the Davenport ancestors. Since you clearly have no parents to teach you manners, I, as the future lady of this house, will have to teach you a lesson myself!"

With that, she snatched a heavy ceremonial rod from a nearby table and swung it at me.

I dodged, ready to fight back, but an arm caught me from behind. It was Donovan.

"What is all this commotion on such an important day?" he demanded. "Go back to your rooms and copy the house rules five hundred times. This will not happen again!"

He noticed the red mark on my cheek where the rod had grazed me and his grip loosened slightly.

"Victoria, I know you feel wronged, but you can't blame anyone for this," he said, his voice cold. "You can only blame your own barren womb. If you want to stay with the Davenports, you must follow our rules."

When my parents passed away, they entrusted me to the Davenport family's care. Shortly after I arrived, a thoughtless maid whispered that I was cursed, that I had brought death upon my own parents and was destined to a life of childless misery.

When Donovan found out, he flew into a rage. He fired the maid and declared in front of the entire household, "Victoria is the only woman I will ever love, the future mistress of this house. With me by her side, she won't have to answer to anyone or follow anyone's rules. If anyone dares to disrespect her, they'll have to answer to me!"

That was only a few years ago.

The earnest young man I knew had vanished, replaced by this cold stranger.

Money and power truly could change a person.

The Davenport estate was never my home. And Donovan was not the man I could spend my life with.

Thank goodness I had already reconnected with my long-lost brother. Soon, I would be going home. Back to the people who truly loved me.

2.

Ignoring the intimate scene between them, I returned to my room. As I was packing, I realized Id left my necklace in the family chapel.

When I went back to get it, I heard their voices.

Isabelle was lounging in Donovan's arms, carelessly toying with one of the sacred lots.

"Victoria really is an utter fool. All this time and she still hasn't realized there's something wrong with the medicine she's been taking."

Donovan chuckled, taking her delicate hand in his. "It was your idea, and it was brilliant. Swapping her fertility supplements with those safflower and musk pills to 'regulate her blood flow.'"

"I saw her latest medical report," he continued. "She's had multiple miscarriages over the years, but they were all so early she never knew. The poor thing just thinks she has irregular periods and chugs that bitter herbal tea every day."

I stood frozen in the doorway, my hand instinctively going to my stomach.

My cycles had always been erratic. The bleeding was always accompanied by agonizing cramps and large clots. Donovan had seemed so concerned, taking me to countless doctors. Every single one of them said the same thing: I'd damaged my health as a child, leading to poor circulation. It was the cause of all my problems. They assured me that with medicine and proper care, I would recover and be able to conceive.

I believed them. Donovan never showed a hint of disappointment. He stood up to the family elders for me, brewed my medicine, and made me nourishing soups. Whenever the pain hit, he was right there, comforting me.

Back then, I thought it was a sign of his love.

Only now did I understand.

He stayed by my side only to personally confirm that I had miscarried. To watch as those tiny, month-old lives were flushed from my body as a river of blood

A deep, bone-chilling cold washed over me.

When Donovan first brought Isabelle to the Davenport estate, he swore to me that it was a drunken mistake, that he had mistaken her for me. He promised that as soon as she gave birth to the child, he would send her away.

But it was all a lie. They had been having an affair for years.

To ensure Isabelle could become Mrs. Davenport without any obstacles, Donovan was willing to kill his own flesh and blood, over and over again.

I bit my lip, struggling to stay calm.

Inside the chapel, the two of them were kissing, completely oblivious.

Isabelle pulled away, breathless, and slapped him playfully. "You're terrible. They say you can't hide fire with paper. Aren't you afraid Victoria will find out the truth and raise hell? I heard that even though her parents are dead, their old network is still very much active."

Donovan pinched her nose, unconcerned. "What's there to be afraid of? What trouble can a lone orphan cause? I've spent years domesticating her. She wouldn't survive a day without the Davenports. Besides, I have my ways of breaking that stubborn spirit of hers."

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision.

Since I came to live with the Davenports, Donovan had catered to my every whim. He said he felt sorry for me, losing my parents so young, and that he wanted to be my rock.

But it was all a lie. That last bastion of affection was a sham.

Eight years. Countless days and nights.

I had been living inside Donovan's meticulously crafted lie.

An overwhelming agony flooded my mind.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my brother.

I couldn't stand another second in this house.

And besides, I was very curious to see just how long Donovan could hold onto his title as the city's richest man once his connection to me was severed.

3.

My brother's reply was immediate.

"Don't worry, sis. Everything is ready. I'll pick you up first thing tomorrow morning!"

Knowing he was coming eased some of the pain in my heart. I wiped away my tears and locked myself in my room.

I don't know how much time passed before a pair of familiar hands gently wrapped around me from behind.

"You silly girl, are you angry?" Donovan whispered. "I didn't mean to be harsh with you. You know the rumors about you have never stopped. To appease the elders, I have to be strict with you in public. But no matter what, you'll always be the most important woman in my heart."

His hands began to wander over my body, skillfully unbuttoning my blouse.

"There, now. Let's try one more time. If you can just get pregnant, I can convince those old fossils to let you and Isabelle have equal standing."

Years of deception weren't enough for him. He still wanted to keep me by his side.

A wave of nausea washed over me.

Just as I was about to push him away, a frantic knocking came from the door.

"Sir! It's the madam! She's in terrible pain, and there's blood! Please, come quickly!"

Donovan shot up, threw on a robe, and rushed out of the room.

I watched his panicked retreat with a cold, mocking smile. So, when a child he actually cared about was in danger, he could feel anxiety. He could feel fear.

It was never the children he despised.

It was me.

The moonlight spilled into the room, making my face look even more pale and drawn. I didn't want any part of their drama. I pulled the covers over my head, trying to go back to sleep.

But moments later, a group of people burst into my room. They dragged me from my bed and hauled me back to the family chapel.

Isabelle was leaning against Donovan, her face deathly pale. The Davenport elders glared at me with pure hatred.

"I told you we shouldn't have kept a cursed star like her around!" one of them shrieked. "First she killed her own parents, and now she's trying to destroy our family! If anything happens to my grandson, I will not spare her!"

Donovan tried to placate them before turning to a white-bearded old man in the room.

"Master, they say you are the most renowned spiritual master in Northwood City. Please, can you tell us, is there any way to resolve this?"

The old man squinted at me, sighing and shaking his head.

"Too much bad karma. She is haunted by the spirits of dead infants. She will not only bring ruin to everyone around her but will also disturb the peace of this house!"

Donovan's father's brow furrowed. He bowed deeply. "Master, what should we do? We will spare no expense to avert this disaster!"

The old man glanced thoughtfully at Isabelle. "There is no easy solution. We must resort to the old ways. She must roll on a bed of nails and walk through fire. Only by shedding her skin can she be cleansed of this malevolent energy!"

As if on cue, Isabelle ordered servants to bring in a brazier of hot coals and a wooden bed frame covered in sharp, gleaming nails.

I stared at the neatly arranged spikes, my eyes wide with disbelief.

"Are you all insane? This is the 21st century! You can't possibly believe in this medieval superstition!"

I struggled, trying to escape, but Donovan grabbed my arm, holding me fast.

"Victoria, don't be childish. Isabelle is doing this for your own good. If you weren't carrying such a heavy curse, why would your parents have died so senselessly? Why have we been childless for all these years? The master is the best in the city; he knows what he's doing. He won't seriously harm you. Just endure it. Once you pass this trial, you can stay by my side forever."

He stroked my head, his voice a hypnotic, soothing whisper.

"Victoria, don't you want to be with me for the rest of your life?"