The Barren King's Only Son

On the third anniversary of my marriage to Rocco Grimaldi, Chicago was blanketed in a blizzard. I came home early to the manor and found him with another woman for the tenth time. This time, it was on the desk of the first Don—a sacred symbol of family power.

Unlike all the other times, I didn't fly into a rage. I simply closed the door on them in silence.

To Rocco, I was just the woman his father forced him to marry. My only role was to endure his indiscretions.

Three months later, for his mistress's sake, Rocco slapped a set of divorce papers on the table in front of me and told me to get the hell out.

I looked him in the eye and calmly agreed. "Fine. All I want is our son, Luciano."

I wouldn't take a single dollar from the Grimaldi family.

A brutal family tribunal followed. Everyone mocked me, the foolish outsider.

The entire Chicago underworld was waiting to see how I, the abandoned wife, would meet my ruin.

But I won. In the end, I left that city of sin with my son.

No one knew that Rocco Grimaldi, the heir apparent, was sterile. No other woman could ever carry his child. Because, by a quirk of fate, I possess a unique biology that makes me exceptionally fertile.

My son would be the Grimaldi family's one and only king.

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1

Twenty minutes later, the study door opened. A woman emerged, wrapped in my husband Rocco Grimaldi's bespoke suit. Her name was Krystal Dunn, a dancer Rocco had picked up at a strip club and his newest mistress.

Krystal froze for a moment when she saw me, but she quickly lifted her chin in defiance, flaunting the Grimaldi signet ring on her finger as if she were the lady of this manor. I nodded at her. "You'd better take the servants' passage. The Don has men posted at the end of the hall."

She bit her lip, shot me a venomous glare, and then quickly vanished into the shadows of the hallway. Just then, Rocco emerged, bare-chested with a towel slung low on his hips. He glanced at our son, Luciano, in my arms, then gave me a cocky smirk. "Unusually quiet today."

I placed a sleeping Luciano into his cradle and covered him with a velvet blanket, while Rocco lit a cigar. "Alessia, if only you were always this reasonable." His features blurred in the smoke, and the sight pulled me back to a similar night four years ago.

That night, Rocco had stood beneath my apartment building, a handgun in his grasp, the barrel still smoking, as rain dripped from his black hair. "Dr. Alessia Thorne, I've been chasing you for three months. Give me one shot." He had stared at me with a burning intensity, his eyes filled with a feral honesty I would never see again.

His voice pulled me back to the present. "Have you forgotten how this marriage happened? I was drunk. I got careless. You just got lucky I knocked you up on the first try." Rocco walked over to me and lifted my chin with his finger. "The Grimaldi family values blood above all else. Otherwise, an outsider like you would've never gotten through the door."

"I know." I turned my head, avoiding his touch. Rocco's gaze turned cold. He withdrew his hand and took another drag from his cigar.

"Good. Fulfill your duty as Mrs. Grimaldi, raise the heir, and I'll ensure you continue to live a life of luxury. But don't expect to be my only woman, Alessia."

"I know." I lowered my gaze.

Rocco smiled in approval and turned to leave. "By the way, the Mamma's charity gala is tomorrow. Remember to wear that black gown." With that, he closed the door behind him. I stood frozen in place for a long time, until my legs went numb. Then, I slowly walked over to the cradle.

Luciano's little mouth was puckered, and he turned over in his sleep as if he were having a sweet dream.

There were many things Rocco didn't know. For instance, I had swapped the samples from our premarital physicals. A feat made possible only by my status as the surgeon with the highest security clearance. The analysis report for the sample he submitted read: "Severely infertile, zero chance of natural conception," but I had replaced it with a normal sample I had prepared in advance.

At first, I did it because I loved him and couldn't bear for him to discover his own inadequacy. It wasn't until my mentor explained it to me later that I understood: my body was exceptionally, uniquely fertile. Without me, Rocco could never have a child of his own.

My body changed after I got pregnant. From then on, he began staying out all night. The first time I smelled an unfamiliar perfume on his suit, I confronted him. He had shoved me away, his voice tight with impatience. "Alessia, don't fucking start. You sound hysterical."

After that, I started finding kiss marks on him, and then long strands of hair. Eventually, it escalated to him brazenly bringing his mistresses back to the manor. I'd once shattered everything within reach in a blind rage, until six months ago, when I caught him cheating for the ninth time.