His Poor Wife Was the Alpha's Heir

I'm the daughter of Alpha James of the Moonridge pack. The Moonridge pack has a tradition—all of the Alpha's descendants, regardless of gender, must conceal their identity and never reveal their family background. Only the first descendant to conceive a child earns the right to return home and become the Alpha's heir. I was the first in the entire family to get pregnant. The moment I found out about the pregnancy, I was so excited that I ran home without even putting on my coat. With this child, I could finally stop hiding my current difficult life from my husband Ethan. And his struggling small company wouldn't have to worry about next month's rent anymore. But when I got home and pushed open the door, I found Ethan kissing another woman on the sofa. So the sudden painful feeling I had when approaching my front door came from Ethan's betrayal. Ethan held his half-dressed first love Zoey and looked at me. "Zoey's back. Let's break our mate bond." I shoved the pregnancy test back into my pocket. What he didn't know was that his poor wife who had suffered alongside him had an unimaginably wealthy and powerful Alpha father behind her. Fine. I'll keep the child and leave the father. Goodbye forever.

"Let's get divorced first." "The divorce papers are on the table. The pen's right there too." Ethan's tone was flat. Zoey slowly straightened her clothes. Her neck was covered in intense kiss marks. She sat in my usual spot, glanced at me, and curved her lips slightly without saying anything. As if she were the lady of this house. I walked over and picked up the agreement. Three pages, densely written. The house goes to Ethan. Company shares go to Ethan. Savings go to Ethan. Car goes to Ethan. I get nothing. "I don't get a single cent?" Ethan finally glanced at me. "The agreement mentions compensation—thirty thousand dollars. That's not bad." Thirty thousand. I'd been married to this man for three years. Ten thousand per year. Zoey set down her coffee cup. "Emily, with thirty thousand you can rent a decent studio." I stared at her. "When did you get back?" "Yesterday." Zoey tilted her head. "Ethan picked me up at the airport. He waited four hours—my flight was delayed." Yesterday. Yesterday Ethan told me he had to work overtime at the company. Zoey stood up and walked to Ethan's side, naturally hooking her arm through his. "Ethan said you're a good person and won't make things difficult for me." Ethan didn't pull away from her hand. My phone pressed against the pregnancy test in my pocket, digging painfully into my thigh. I'd planned to come home and tell him—Ethan, we're having a baby. You won't have to lose sleep over rent every month anymore. You won't have to humble yourself drinking with clients until you get a bleeding ulcer. I thought today would be our best day. "Where's the pen?" Ethan pointed at the coffee table. I crouched down to get the pen. From this angle, I could see Zoey's hand resting on Ethan's waist. As I opened the pen cap, the pregnancy test nearly slipped out of my pocket. I quickly pressed it back. "Sign on the last page. Write today's date." Ethan's voice came from above. I signed my name. Emily. Put down the pen and stood up. "Fine. The agreement needs to go through the court to take effect." "Tomorrow morning at nine. I'll come find you. We'll break the mate bond then too." After Ethan finished speaking, he pulled out his phone and unlocked it right in front of me, opening his contacts. He changed my contact name from "My Dear Wife" to Emily. Then he closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. Zoey leaned on his shoulder. "Ethan, I want to eat your homemade pasta." "Okay, I'll make it right now." Ethan actually turned and went into the kitchen. In three years, he'd never once cooked for me. I'd asked him if he knew how to cook. He said no, said he couldn't even fry an egg without burning the pan. Now he tied his apron more smoothly than he tied his shoelaces. Zoey shrugged at me. "Emily, don't just stand there. Hurry up and take what you need. Tomorrow I'm having people come redecorate. I looked at your clothes—they're all pretty old. Don't bother taking them. They're not even good enough to use as rags." I went back to the bedroom and grabbed my important documents and a cloth bag containing a few things I'd brought from home when I got married. Nothing related to Ethan. On my way out, I passed the kitchen. Ethan was cutting tomatoes, the knife thudding on the cutting board. He didn't look up. At the door putting on my shoes, Zoey followed and leaned against the doorframe. "Emily, I don't know if I should say this." "Go ahead." "Ethan never sighed when he was with me. In these three years with you, I've heard him sigh many times on the phone." She lowered her head, her voice soft. "Maybe you two really aren't compatible." I looked at her. Ethan sighed because of broken capital chains, lost clients, the company nearly going under. Every crisis was one I carried him through behind the scenes. After he sighed, by the next morning when he woke up, the problem would be solved. He thought it was good luck. "You're right." I bent down to tie my shoelaces. "We're not compatible." The moment the door closed, Zoey's voice came from inside. "Ethan, let's change the door code. I want to set it to the anniversary of our first time having sex."

I moved into a studio near the university that rented for three hundred dollars a month. Next door was a restaurant. Cooking fumes seeped in through the window cracks. I sat on the hard bed and stared at the pregnancy test for a long time. The two lines were piercingly clear. My phone rang. Ethan. "Emily, you haven't canceled the company's secondary card yet." "I'll do it when we go to court tomorrow." "Okay." Just as I was about to hang up, Zoey's voice came from his end. "Ethan, does she still have the company access card? I saw one in her bag last time." Ethan paused. "Bring the access card too." "Anything else?" "That's all for now." He hung up. The phone screen was still lit, the chat background still showing the coffee photo from the day Ethan and I started dating, with our two silhouettes making heart shapes beside it. Ethan and I first met at a coffee shop. I was working as a barista at the coffee shop. Ethan came in to order, and the moment our eyes met, we realized we were each other's fated mates. We fell in love at first sight. In the following days, Ethan kept coming to the coffee shop where I worked to buy coffee. When I wasn't there, he'd look disappointed. Back then, I was also secretly watching him with his sincere eyes. So within a few days, Ethan and I got together. After we got married, Ethan started his business. He said he would definitely give me a good life. But now it seemed those vows were completely unreliable. And Ethan had no idea just how wealthy my family really was. He only knew that his wife worked as a barista at a coffee shop, earning three thousand dollars a month. For three years of marriage, I'd maintained this persona. Early the next morning, Ethan's mother Lily called. "Emily, are you done packing?" "I'm packing." "Don't bother with those clothes of yours—they weren't anything good to begin with. Also, those pickles you used to make at home—Zoey says they taste pretty good and wants the recipe." I'd made pickles for three years. Ethan ate them every day. My mother-in-law had never once complimented them. "I'm not giving it." "What kind of person are you?" Lily's tone immediately changed. "You're already divorced and you're still being petty. Do you know who Zoey is? Her asking for your pickle recipe is doing you a favor." "What kind of person is she?" "Zoey's parents run an international trading company. Do you think everyone's like you making coffee at a coffee shop?" Lily lowered her voice. "Emily, I'll be honest with you. I was never really satisfied when I let Ethan marry you. You've been diligent these three years, but people climb upward. Ethan's company is slowly taking off now, and you can't keep up." "Zoey is Ethan's first love. They were always a perfect match. She came back from abroad. Don't get in the way." Last year, Ethan nearly went bankrupt over a bad debt and couldn't even pay his employees' salaries. That month, I used my dad's connections to recover that bad debt. Ethan thought the other party had a change of heart and voluntarily repaid. He was so happy when he came home that day. He hugged me and said, "Honey, we're so lucky." "I'm not giving the pickle recipe. Is there anything else you need to ask?" Lily hung up angrily. Half an hour later, Ethan sent a message: My mom says your attitude was bad. We're already breaking the mate bond. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be. I didn't reply. I turned my phone face down on the bed and touched my belly. In three months my belly would start showing. By then I'd return home and take my place as the Alpha's heir—the only descendant who successfully conceived. Ethan's painstakingly managed company was worth three million. In the Moonridge pack, that didn't even rank. I was about to break the mate bond with Ethan soon. I was afraid the rejection would affect the baby in my belly, so I used my family's connections to find a witch who had a good relationship with my dad and got a potion from her that would prevent harm to the fetus during rejection. The next day, Ethan and I registered our divorce at the hospital and broke our mate bond. Afterward, I went to the hospital to register for prenatal care. While waiting after registration, my phone rang again. Zoey, calling from Ethan's phone. "Emily, sorry to bother you. I found a bottle of folic acid in your old bedroom. I wanted to ask if it's yours or if it was left in the house from before?" Folic acid. That was what I'd been taking while trying to conceive. I gripped my phone tightly. "Throw it away. It's expired." "Okay. By the way, Ethan asked me to ask you—when will you cancel the secondary card?" "Tomorrow." "Great, bye." She hung up. My hand was trembling. Not from anger, but from fear. Zoey found the folic acid. "Will she guess something?" I stared at my phone, talking to myself. No one answered.

The day my prenatal checkup results came out, I sat on a bench in the hospital hallway in a daze. The doctor said everything was normal. The baby was healthy. I needed to pay attention to nutrition and rest. The baby is healthy. I repeated those words three times. "Emily?" I looked up. Zoey stood at the end of the hallway holding a bag of fruit. She smiled and walked over. "What a coincidence. You came to this hospital too?" "What are you doing here?" "Visiting a friend." She sat down next to me and casually glanced at my hands. I turned the prenatal report face down, but her eyes had already caught something. "Obstetrics?" Zoey's tone changed, no longer that sweet enthusiasm. She stared straight at my face. "Emily, don't tell me you're..." "It's none of your business." "Pregnant?" I stood up. "Zoey, this isn't your concern." "Of course it's my concern." She also stood up. "If it's Ethan's child, then it is my business." People were coming and going in the hallway. She lowered her voice and moved closer to me. "Emily, are you planning to hide this from everyone and have the baby? And then what—use the child to threaten Ethan?" "I don't need to threaten anyone." "But Ethan won't want this child." Zoey's tone was matter-of-fact. "He said his children need to be born into a complete family. The family he chose doesn't include you." "He told you that?" "He tells me everything." Zoey pulled out her phone and played a voice message. Ethan's voice came from the phone: Zoey, after we get through this busy period, we'll have a proper wedding. We'll figure out the rest later. Just settle in for now. "Did you hear that? He's already planning our wedding. If you run out now with a baby, everyone will just think you're being clingy." I took a deep breath. Zoey watched my reaction, seeming to confirm something. "Emily, I have a suggestion. Go find a witch, terminate the pregnancy, and we'll all go our separate ways. I won't tell Ethan, and I won't tell anyone." "Or what?" "Or I'll tell him. What do you think he'll do when he finds out?" She pulled an envelope from her bag and handed it to me. "What's this?" "Open it and see." Inside the envelope was an ultrasound report with Zoey's name at the top, dated two weeks ago. It clearly stated: Intrauterine early pregnancy, 7 weeks. "I'm pregnant too." Zoey put away her smile and looked at me seriously. "Ethan already knows. He's thrilled. He bought a ton of pregnancy supplies." "So do you understand now? His first child can only be born from me." I stared at that ultrasound report. Seven weeks pregnant. Zoey just returned to the country yesterday. Seven weeks ago she was abroad. This ultrasound report had the stamp of our pack's maternity hospital. The timeline didn't match. But I didn't say anything. Now wasn't the time to expose her. "Think about it." Zoey patted my shoulder. "Before things get out of hand." She turned and left. I clutched that ultrasound report. You say you're pregnant too. Seven weeks ago you were abroad, but your ultrasound has the Moonridge pack's stamp. "Zoey, what exactly are you?"

The next day at ten in the morning, Ethan appeared at the door of my rented studio. "I know." He stood outside, his expression complex—not quite angry, more like a condescending helplessness. "Know what?" "About your pregnancy. Zoey told me." She didn't keep her promise after all. Ethan walked in and looked around the room—less than a hundred square feet—and frowned. "Emily, what are you planning to do with this child?" "Have it." "Have it and then what?" His voice rose slightly. "You make three thousand a month. You can barely support yourself." "You don't need to worry about my business." "I'm worried about my own business." Ethan sat on the only plastic chair, hands clasped together. "Zoey's pregnant too. You know that, right? She's earlier than you—already seven weeks." "She showed me the ultrasound report." "Right." Ethan nodded. "I'll be direct. My first child should be with Zoey. Yours isn't appropriate." "Ethan, are you sure you want me to abort your child?" "We're already divorced. Even if this child is born, it'll be a single-parent family. That's not good for anyone." He stood up. "Terminate it. I'll pay for the procedure and recovery costs. Is fifty thousand enough?" The door was pushed open from outside. Lily. She walked in carrying a plastic bag and looked around. "This is where you're living?" Lily set the plastic bag on the table. "There's twenty thousand dollars in there for the abortion. With Ethan's thirty thousand, that's fifty total. Enough for you to start fresh." "I said I'm keeping the child." Lily's face darkened. "Emily, don't be ungrateful. You know what Zoey's family is like. She's Ethan's legitimate wife. You're carrying a bastard..." "This isn't a bastard. It's Ethan's child." "If my son doesn't acknowledge it, then it isn't." Lily's voice got louder. "Do you think having a baby means you can cling to our family?" Ethan didn't stop his mother. He leaned against the wall looking at his phone. "Emily, I'll say this one last time." Ethan didn't look up. "Terminate the pregnancy and we'll part on good terms. If you don't, I'll go to court and request a paternity test to fight for custody. I have a house and a company. You have nothing. The court will award me the child." "And then I'll give the child to Zoey to raise." Let Zoey raise my child. That sentence was like a knife, stabbing in precisely. Lily pushed me. "Did you hear that? Don't think pregnancy gives you leverage. You're nothing in front of us." Ethan's phone screen lit up. A message from Zoey popped up. I caught a glimpse of the text: [Ethan, did you handle it? I bought your favorite cheesecake.] Ethan replied, locked the screen, looked up at me, waiting for my answer. Lily stood to the side with her arms crossed, like a supervisor. I touched my belly. This child would be the next Alpha heir of Moonridge pack after me. The child the entire pack had waited over a decade for. Ethan wanted to fight for custody? He had no idea who he was challenging. I pulled out my phone and found a number I hadn't called in three years. I dialed. It was answered after one ring. "Dad, come get me. I'm pregnant." Ethan and Lily both looked at me. My dad's voice came through the phone—calm, but every word carried undeniable weight. "Give me twenty minutes." He hung up. Ethan frowned. "Who did you call?" "My dad." Lily scoffed. "Your dad? Didn't you say your dad was farming in the countryside? You're calling some old farmer to back you up?" I put my phone back in my pocket. "Ethan, you just said you'd fight for custody." "Right." "Fine. Then wait."

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