Son In Law to Secret Heir

An Unexpected Call

A painful knot formed in his chest as he grappled with the idea that Naira might actually heed her mother's advice and consider ending their marriage. The uncertainty of his future gnawed at him. Where would he find himself if he were no longer beside her? The questions swirled in his mind, mirroring the tearful chaos of his eyes.

And then, in a moment that seemed almost symbolic, a sharp, searing pain cut through the noise of his thoughts. "Ahhh…" he groaned involuntarily, the sting of pain jolting him back to reality as the blade slipped and he accidentally nicked his finger. 

The vibrant red of blood mingled with the pale slices of onion, a stark reminder of his vulnerability. The physical pain, though sharp, paled in comparison to the emotional wounds inflicted by Naira's words.

Melvin's swift footsteps took him to the wash basin, urgency in his every movement. He twisted the tap, unleashing a stream of water that cascaded over his injured finger, washing away the crimson evidence. 

The deep cut on his finger was exposed, and a pulse of searing pain coursed through his hand. His eyes squeezed shut, but try as he might, he couldn't shake the lingering echo of Naira's words in his mind.

Amidst the pain, he drew a deep breath, a momentary respite to collect himself. Weakness wasn't an option; he needed to reclaim his pride and reputation.

 As the pain subsided, his determination grew stronger. The realization dawned on him: there was a path to follow, a clear course of action that lay ahead.

With a decisive exhale, he turned off the tap and left the wash basin behind, retreating to the sanctuary of his room. There, he retrieved his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the unfamiliar number that had called him earlier.

"Grandpa, I've made up my mind," he announced as the call connected, his voice carrying newfound resolution.

His grandfather's joyous response carried through the line, a surge of happiness evident in his tone. "My dear boy, I can't express how thrilled I am to hear this. We can't wait to welcome you back with open arms."

Though the decision to return wasn't devoid of its own challenges, a small measure of satisfaction accompanied his conversation with his grandfather.

 The realization that Naira's intentions weren't aligned with his own future solidified his choice. No longer willing to endure potential humiliation, he recognized that his ego deserved preservation.

As the call ended, a mixture of emotions swirled within him. He was choosing to relinquish the life he'd built, all in the name of self-respect. It was a bittersweet step, but one that offered the promise of a different beginning.

Next morning.

Naira's morning routine was interrupted by a furrowed brow and a perplexed expression as she turned towards Melvin. Her words held a tinge of suspicion as she inquired, "Are you watching me?" 

On the edge of the bed, Melvin was seated, his gaze unswervingly fixed upon her. It was as if he was meticulously observing her every action, every gesture, as she went about preparing herself for another day at the office.

"Not stalking, but savoring the beauty of my wife," he responded in a soft, influenced tone. He watched as her lips curved into a subtle smile, her swift movement turning her attention towards the mirror. His gaze lingered, tracing down her back, silently appreciating every contour. There was the gentle curve at the small of her back, gracefully molding her figure into an elegant hourglass shape. His eyes then wandered to her alluring round hips, a temptation he found hard to resist. An urge to reach out and delicately caress them surged within him. 

Despite the treatment he received from her, there was no doubt that Melvin was deeply in love with her. He recognized the distance between them, understanding that she was beyond his grasp. Even though they shared the same room, he found himself unable to bridge the gap and touch her in the intimate way he yearned for.

As Naira leaned over her vanity, her focus intent on outlining her lips with a lip pencil, Melvin's gaze involuntarily fixated on the indentation that formed along her hips. He felt a stirring sensation, a bump of longing rising beneath his jeans. In a bid to rein in his desires, he pressed his teeth into his lower lip, struggling to keep his impulses in check.

On the contrary Naira was aware of his gaze on him. It was his response which made him even more suspicious of him. What happened to him this particular morning? Why was he sounding so cheesy out of nowhere?

Blinded by his intense desires, Melvin rose from the disheveled bed, his heart pounding in his chest like a tribal drum. The room seemed hazy, as if cloaked in the residue of his longing. His steps were almost involuntary, driven by an irresistible force compelling him toward her.

Naira, lost in her own world, was oblivious to his approach. Her attention was ensnared by something beyond the mundane reality of the room. 

Her thoughts, like gossamer threads, wove intricate patterns in her mind, until an unexpected touch jolted her back to the present. She felt his fingers curl around her hip, an intimate intrusion into her personal space that sent shivers down her spine.

The audacity of his action yanked her away from her thoughts, her mind abruptly shifting its focus. She halted, her body stiffening, and the shock that rippled through her manifested as a sharp jerk, wrenching him away from her. 

Her voice, though tinged with anger, carried a note of incredulity as she admonished him with fervor. "Stop! Don't you forget your bloody limits," she spat, her words like barbs flung at him.

 Her eyes bore into his with a fierce intensity, the fire of fury blazing within their depths as her brows knitted in a fierce scowl.

In a sudden rush, Melvin snapped back to reality, the haze of desire dissipating like a morning fog under the sun's gaze. He was hit with a profound realization of the mess he had created. 

How could he have been so foolish, to let his impulses guide his actions? The gravity of his mistake bore down on him, and he was left grappling with the depth of his misjudgment.

Attempting to regain his footing, he stammered, his words an earnest attempt to cover up his ill-advised move. "Soo... sorry. I was just..." His voice trailed off, his throat constricting with the weight of his apology.

But Naira was having none of it, her rage unyielding. She cut through his words with a swift, cutting retort, her tone laced with a heavy skepticism.

 "Mom is right, you seem to have plans to trap me," she declared, her voice a whip-crack of accusation. Her gaze bore into his, piercing through any excuses he might have concocted. 

The reminder of the prenuptial agreement, an unspoken contract of their relationship, hung heavily in the air. "Don't forget the prenup you signed with me. Did you!?" she demanded, raising an eyebrow in a gesture that dripped with both challenge and a quiet kind of disappointment.

"I remember it," Melvin spoke slowly, his voice carrying a weight of remorse as he bowed his head, the memory of that binding agreement gnawing at him like an old wound.

"I'm leaving for the office," Naira's tone brooked no argument, her authority undeniable as she issued her directive. 

Her words were crisp, carrying a sense of command that left little room for negotiation. "And for dinner, cook my favorite Italian foods. Some of my friends will be joining us too." Her expectation hung in the air, a clear indication of her standards. "So, don't embarrass me in front of them."

Melvin nodded with obedience, his movement mirroring the dip of his head. His eyes followed her as she walked away, his posture relaxing only when he was sure she had left the room.