The Infertile Husband and the Sinister Plot

1 The family trust had a strict rule: I could only claim outright control of thirty percent of the company if I gave birth to an heir with the Savage family bloodline.

So, when the fertility clinic nurse told me it was time for the embryo transfer, my heart swelled with anticipation.

Just to confirm, youre using my husband, Julian Savages, cryopreserved sperm, right? I asked the nurse.

She flipped through my authorized, encrypted file, and a strange expression crossed her face.

Ms. Lane, the records indicate Mr. Savage suffers from congenital azoospermia, she informed me.

The male donor listed for this successfully cultured embryo is named David Savage, she added.

A cold dread seized me. I snatched the medical report Julian had brought home earlier and bolted towards the lab.

The chief simply glanced at the official seal on the report and snorted.

This looks like it was printed at some street-side shop. They even got our hospitals name wrong, the chief said dismissively.

It turned out my husband, who was infertile, had swapped his sperm with that of his brother, a convicted felon, during the IVF process, all to use me to secure the family fortune.

Before I left, the chief pulled out a thick registry.

Given your Black Diamond VIP status, if you require a new match for top-tier genetics, the chief told me.

We have a selection of premium, anonymous donors C Ivy League athletes, no less. We can arrange for extraction tonight, he added.

I didnt hesitate. My pen tip pierced the final page of the confidentiality agreement as I signed.

The chief adjusted his glasses, then placed the agreement into a safe.

Ms. Lane, expedited cultivation will take at least three days.

On the day of the transfer, three days from now, Ill personally perform the procedure.

I nodded, clutching that fake medical report as I walked out of the lab. The sterile scent of the hospital churned my stomach, making me feel nauseous. My gaze fell upon the glaring Excellent Sperm Motility emblazoned on the report, despite the misspelled hospital name. I silently repeated Julian Savages name, my nails digging deep into my palms.

For three years of marriage, he woke up early to make me traditional tonics, and no matter how busy his business trips were, hed always video call to say goodnight. Last year, when my routine check-up showed a thin uterine lining, he held me and cried all night. He said, "Don't be scared, darling. We'll do IVF, and I'll be there for every injection." Every single shot, hed pushed the plunger himself.

But while the medicine in those syringes was real, the report he handed me was a lie. He had no sperm at all. From start to finish, the sperm he put into the culture dish was never his. It was the seed of his brother, David, a rapist who'd just been released after five years in prison.

I spent ten minutes throwing up in the hospital parking lot, emptying my stomach of acid before I could start the car.

Back at the villa, Julian emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming pot of black chicken soup.

Darling, youre back? Come here, its freshly made. Drink it while its hot.

He placed the soup in front of me, blew on a spoonful, and offered it to my lips. Three hours ago, I would have thought there was no better husband in the world. I stared at the pot of soup, and my stomach started to churn again.

Whats wrong? Are you feeling unwell?

Julian reached out to touch my forehead, but I leaned back, dodging his hand. I pulled the fake report from my bag and slapped it across his face. The paper grazed his nose and fell to the floor.

Julian Savage, youre infertile.

His hand, which had been holding the soup, froze. Then, a look of wounded innocence replaced his surprise.

You went and checked?

He set the soup pot down, his voice dropping. Elara, listen, I can explain

The sperm in that culture dish belongs to David Savage. I stared at him, enunciating each word. Your brother. The one convicted of rape, sentenced to five years, and just released last month.

The living room fell silent. Julian closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his face was utterly cold. He stepped forward, his arms encircling my shoulders, pinning me against him with such force my ribs ached.

Do you know what being infertile means to a man? he whispered against my ear. Ive suffered for eight whole years.

I cant give you a child, but David is my brother. His blood is Savage blood.

You know the trust funds terms it has to be Savage blood to get that thirty percent controlling interest.

This is for our future, dont you understand?

His voice choked when he said for our future, making him sound like the injured party. A chill ran through me, sending shivers down my spine.

You let a rapists sperm into my body, and you tell me its for our future?

Thats your brother! I struggled, pushing against him. He served five years because he dragged a college girl into an alley! And you dare put his genes inside me?!

Julians face darkened completely. He released me, took a step back, picked up the fake report, and folded it into his pocket.

Whose sperm it is doesnt matter.

Itll be born, carry the Savage name, and call me Dad.

Who outside will ever know?

Once we get the controlling interest, youll be the biggest contributor to the Savage family.

He stared at me intently, and I looked up and slapped him. As my palm connected, his hand shot up. He twisted my wrist outwards, and I gasped in pain, breaking out in a cold sweat.

Youd better think twice before you lay a hand on me. He looked down at me, a smirk playing on his lips.

Just then, the front door of the villa was pushed open, and a pungent, foul smell wafted in. David Savage stood in the doorway, clutching a duffel bag, a scar visible on his shaved head. He surveyed the room, grinning, his yellowed teeth showing. His gaze swept from my face, to my chest, then to my belly.

Hey there, sis, he mumbled, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his face plastered with a smirk. From now on, Im the kids daddy. You better treat me right. That night, I packed my suitcase, but before I could take three steps, Julian kicked the bag over from behind me.

Where are you going?

Divorce.

Divorce? He chuckled. Try it.

The trust fund clearly states that the controlling interest can only be activated if a Savage bloodline heir is born during the marriage.

If you leave, the Savage family gets nothing. Do you really think the old man will let you off the hook?

I bit my lip, silent, because he was telling the truth. Old Mr. Savage was eighty-seven, hooked up to tubes in the ICU. The trust fund terms were set by him, and no one could change them.

Julian crouched down and pulled the suitcase back to the entryway, his tone softening.

Dont make a fuss, Davids just staying for a few days.

Hell leave after the transfer.

Ill have the housekeeper prepare the nearest guest room for him.

The nearest guest room was right next to our master bedroom. I watched David, cigarette in mouth, walk in and drop his duffel bag. A few faded briefs and a pair of slippers tumbled out. He turned back and winked at me.

I triple-locked the master bedroom door.

The next morning, I went to the balcony to collect laundry, my hand freezing mid-reach. A section of the clothesline was empty; my underwear was gone. The guest room door next door was ajar. David lay on the bed, clutching a wad of black fabric to his nose, humming with his eyes closed.

My stomach lurched. I rushed over, snatching it away, my nails scratching his hand.

What the hell is wrong with you?!

David wasnt flustered. He licked the scratched wound. Sis, youre feisty, huh? The kids gonna have your temper.

Dont be shy, well be family soon

I grabbed the ashtray from the bedside table and hurled it. He dodged, and the ashtray hit the wall.

Spirited, I like it.

I ran back to my room, slammed the door, and sank to the floor, hugging my knees, trembling. My phone vibrated. An encrypted text from the hospital chief.

[Embryo expedited cultivation in progress, estimated completion in three days. Will coordinate with original transfer surgery for replacement. Please ensure enough time is bought.]

Just three more days.

Dinner was served. David pulled out his chopsticks, sucked on them, then stirred them into the braised ribs. He picked out the largest piece, bit into it, and spat it back onto the plate.

Too fatty, dont like it.

He pushed the bitten rib towards me. Sis, you eat it.

I averted my gaze. Under the table, his foot brushed against my calf. His toenails were caked with black dirt. I shot up, bracing my hands on the table, flipping the entire thing over. Bowls and plates shattered everywhere, and a rib rolled onto Julians shoe.

David froze. Julian stepped forward and slapped me. I stumbled sideways, crashing into a dining chair and falling. The back of my head hit the tiled floor.

Elara Lane, what is your problem?!

He grabbed my collar, pulling me up. David is my brother, arent you his elder sister-in-law? You have no decency!

My head spun, and a metallic taste of blood filled my throat. He was touching me under the table

Bullshit!

He shoved me back forcefully. My heel landed on a shard of broken porcelain. The shard pierced my skin, and I gasped in pain. Julian gestured to the bodyguards behind him. Two bodyguards stepped forward, grabbed my shoulders, and forced me to my knees on the shattered porcelain.

Apologize. Julian pointed to David, who was slumped in a chair. Say sorry to David.

The porcelain shards dug into my knees, drawing blood. David, picking his teeth with a toothpick, crouched down, pinching my chin to lift my face.

Come on, sis, Im waiting.

I closed my eyes, forcing three words through gritted teeth.

Im sorry.

As night fell, I curled up in the master bedroom bed, my palms and knees throbbing, a fever of 102 degrees raging through me. Footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning. Someone was trying my door, and I jolted upright, my pajamas soaked in cold sweat. The doorknob pressed down, then sprung back as the latch held. Davids muffled laughter drifted from outside the door.

Sis, whyd you lock it so tight I just wanted to see if you were asleep. I leaped out of bed, barefoot, and dragged the bedside table to brace against the door. The fever made my vision swim, flashing back to three years ago. Julian had also chased after me when I had a high fever. He'd watched over me all night in my cramped apartment, wiping my forehead repeatedly. At dawn, I saw him dozing by the bed, a thermometer clutched in his hand.

Outside, a violent prying sound, then the door was kicked open. The door panel cracked at the hinges, and the bedside table was shoved back half a yard. David stood in the doorway, reeking of alcohol and sweat, his eyes bloodshot. He stared at me, breathing heavily, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

Sis, why go through all this trouble?

He lunged, pinning me to the mattress, grabbing my nightgown collar and tugging it down. Youre going to carry my kid anyway

Why not just make it real tonight and save yourself the needles at the hospital!

The overpowering smell of alcohol hit my face. I struggled desperately, turning my head, my right hand scrambling across the bedside table. My fingertips brushed against the marble base of a lamp. I gripped the lamps metal rod, closed my eyes, and brought it crashing down on his head.