My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs.
Sandra and Morgan took the kids to the hospital to get Adam's wound checked out. The doctor administered some medication—thankfully it was just a superficial scratch, requiring only disinfectant and antibiotic ointment.
Afterward, they spoiled the children with steak and fried chicken before returning to the villa.
Adam, still clinging to Sandra like a koala, begged, "Mom, stay with me tonight." But the memory of Regan's calm expression when she left sent a jolt of panic through her. A gnawing unease twisted in her chest as she gently peeled Adam's fingers away, grabbed her keys, and bolted home.
Guilt hit her hard—she'd completely lost it earlier when Adam got hurt and Anna started wailing. She'd slapped Regan without even hearing his side. Now, regret churned in her gut.
She threw open the front door, voice trembling. "Regan?"
Silence. Just her own voice bouncing off the walls.
She tore upstairs, wrenching open the closet—nothing but empty hangers swaying slightly. Her eyes darted around the room. The wedding photo was missing.
The bathroom was next. Toothbrush, towel, mug, razor—all gone.
Realization hit like a punch to the gut. Her hands shook violently as she fumbled with her phone, dialing his number. A robotic voice answered: "Sorry, the number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable."
An hour later, Sandra sat frozen on the couch, numb with disbelief as she stared at the security footage and divorce papers on her phone. The agreement was brutally simple—just a few lines stating Regan was walking away. Taking nothing.
Panic crashed over her. She folded into herself on the couch, arms locked around her knees. This raw terror—she hadn't felt it since twenty years ago, when loan sharks had swarmed her childhood home, screaming threats as they ransacked the place. Her father was still behind bars then.
Every day, furious creditors camped in the company lobby. Rotten eggs and vegetables splattered the front door.
She'd been that same trembling girl, curled up on the couch in terror—until Regan charged in. He'd pulled her into his arms, murmuring reassurance as she shook. Then he'd stepped between her and the mob, negotiating until they backed down.
In the end, he'd signed the loan papers himself, vowing to pay every cent.
Suddenly—the phone rang.
Afterward, they spoiled the children with steak and fried chicken before returning to the villa.
Adam, still clinging to Sandra like a koala, begged, "Mom, stay with me tonight." But the memory of Regan's calm expression when she left sent a jolt of panic through her. A gnawing unease twisted in her chest as she gently peeled Adam's fingers away, grabbed her keys, and bolted home.
Guilt hit her hard—she'd completely lost it earlier when Adam got hurt and Anna started wailing. She'd slapped Regan without even hearing his side. Now, regret churned in her gut.
She threw open the front door, voice trembling. "Regan?"
Silence. Just her own voice bouncing off the walls.
She tore upstairs, wrenching open the closet—nothing but empty hangers swaying slightly. Her eyes darted around the room. The wedding photo was missing.
The bathroom was next. Toothbrush, towel, mug, razor—all gone.
Realization hit like a punch to the gut. Her hands shook violently as she fumbled with her phone, dialing his number. A robotic voice answered: "Sorry, the number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable."
An hour later, Sandra sat frozen on the couch, numb with disbelief as she stared at the security footage and divorce papers on her phone. The agreement was brutally simple—just a few lines stating Regan was walking away. Taking nothing.
Panic crashed over her. She folded into herself on the couch, arms locked around her knees. This raw terror—she hadn't felt it since twenty years ago, when loan sharks had swarmed her childhood home, screaming threats as they ransacked the place. Her father was still behind bars then.
Every day, furious creditors camped in the company lobby. Rotten eggs and vegetables splattered the front door.
She'd been that same trembling girl, curled up on the couch in terror—until Regan charged in. He'd pulled her into his arms, murmuring reassurance as she shook. Then he'd stepped between her and the mob, negotiating until they backed down.
In the end, he'd signed the loan papers himself, vowing to pay every cent.
Suddenly—the phone rang.
End of My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to My Childfree Wife's Hidden Heirs book page.