The Barren Tycoon's Secret Heirs

“You’ve been away for two months, and we only did it once since you got back? Is there something wrong with you?” In the quiet of the morning, the lingering echoes of their passionate entanglement still hung in the air. Anya Fairfax felt like she’d just come back from the dead. Drenched in fragrant sweat, her body limp and weak, her breath still came in ragged gasps. Yet, she still reached out to encircle the man’s lean waist, her voice laced with a hint of drowsy provocation as she asked. The man had been about to get out of bed to shower. Hearing this, he paused. His long fingers pinched her chin, forcing her face up. His voice was low and gravelly, carrying a dangerous edge. “What? Not satisfied?” “Of course not! You’ve spoiled my appetite! But then again…” Anya deliberately drew out her words, a sly glint in her eyes. “If there really is a problem, we should make an appointment to see a doctor sooner rather than later. Best not to avoid the truth out of embarrassment…” Before she could finish, his lips crashed down on hers, fierce with anger. Xavier Beaumont had never understood restraint, let alone when faced with such blatant provocation. This invasion was urgent and fierce, punitive in its nature. “Anya Fairfax, you will pay for those words!” Anya met his intensity eagerly. She knew the man before her preferred passionate, responsive partners. Even though he didn’t love her, in these intimate moments, he always managed to give her the illusion of being deeply cherished. But Anya didn’t care. It had been two years since she married Xavier Beaumont. She was willing to spend more time warming his cold, hard heart. She dreamed of bearing his children, building a complete family together. Thinking of this, Anya wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. Her soft body, like a small boat caught in a tempest, could only drift helplessly on the waves, teetering precariously… When everything finally subsided, it was nearly four in the afternoon. Xavier had proven, in the most direct way possible, that his body was not only perfectly fine, but even… excessively potent!!! He rose to wash up, dressing as elegantly as ever in his shirt and trousers. He was tall and lean, the impeccably tailored clothes perfectly accentuating his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and impossibly long legs. His features were flawless, like a masterpiece meticulously carved by the Creator. Deep-set phoenix eyes, slightly upturned at the corners, seemed naturally imbued with allure, his entire being radiating unparalleled aristocratic grace. At that moment, as the man leisurely fastened the buttons at his shirt cuffs, a sharp ringtone shattered the tranquility of the lounge. Xavier didn’t pause his movements, using his free hand to answer the call. Whatever the person on the other end said caused a flicker of distinct surprise to cross his handsome face. Seconds later, he hung up. His deep, fathomless eyes, cold as a mountain pool, fixed directly on Anya, who lay nearly unconscious on the bed. Anya forced her heavy eyelids open, her voice thick with exhaustion. “What? Who was it?” Xavier’s voice betrayed no emotion, stating flatly, “My mother. She said… you’re the Fairfax family’s false heiress? That you share no blood relation with Edward Fairfax? That the real Miss Fairfax has been found?” Anya’s heart clenched violently, instantly wide awake. A month ago, her father Edward had undergone a routine physical and discovered, unexpectedly, that his blood type was completely incompatible with hers. The Fairfax family had immediately launched a large-scale search, and half a month ago, welcomed back their true biological daughter—Vivian Fairfax! At the grand party celebrating Vivian’s return, Vivian had “accidentally” fallen into the swimming pool and immediately accused Anya of pushing her. The Fairfaxes were furious. A torrent of condemnation rained down on Anya, branding her an “attempted murderer.” The false heiress was conveniently kicked out. Xavier had been on a two-month business trip abroad at the time and knew nothing of this. Anya had intended to find a chance to explain, but she hadn’t expected her mother-in-law, Madeline Beaumont, to expose the truth first. Anya nodded, unconsciously gripping the sheet beneath her. “Yes… that’s true. What else… did your mother say?” Xavier’s tone remained utterly calm, as if discussing something utterly irrelevant. “Her implication is that this marriage contract was always between the Beaumont and Fairfax families. Since the true heiress has returned, then the engagement… should be returned to its rightful owner.” The implication was clear: she was to return her marriage to Vivian Fairfax! Anya’s face instantly drained of color. The revelation of her false identity was an unforeseen disaster! But she and Xavier had been married for two years—a fact that couldn’t be changed. Was marriage something you could simply hand back? However, more than her mother-in-law Madeline’s stance, Anya cared about Xavier’s attitude at this moment. “And you? What do you think?” She clenched her fingers, a last thread of hope in her voice as she looked at the man who had just been intimately entwined with her. She believed, in these two years of marriage, she had been an impeccable wife. His daily needs, his food, his clothing—almost everything had been personally managed by her. She had cared for him meticulously, pouring all her energy into it. She thought that even if Xavier hadn’t fallen in love with her yet, he should at least harbor some affection for her. But the man’s next words were like a bucket of ice water poured over her head, instantly freezing her stiff. A bone-chilling cold pierced her heart. “I don’t think much of it. It’s just a marriage contract,” his voice devoid of inflection. “Whoever it is… it makes no difference to me. I have a flight tonight to the neighboring city for a few days. I’m leaving.” Having said that, without giving Anya any time to react, he picked up his suit jacket draped over the chair and left the room without a backward glance. Thud— The moment the door closed softly, Anya was overwhelmed by a suffocating pain. Her heart felt as if it had been stabbed by a blunt knife, twisted slowly, the agony stealing her breath. Xavier’s final sentence echoed relentlessly in her mind: Whoever it is… it makes no difference? Yes. Marriage was nothing but a dispensable accessory to Xavier Beaumont. Everything had been nothing but her own wishful thinking! Only at this moment did Anya fully realize how cold and heartless this man truly was. His heart was probably a block of ice she could never warm, no matter how hard she tried. Xavier had barely been gone an hour when his mother, Madeline Beaumont, stormed in with righteous fury. In her impeccably manicured hand, she held a cold, glaring document—Divorce Papers. Thwack! The papers were flung mercilessly into Anya’s face, accompanied by a shrill tirade: “Married for two years, couldn’t even produce a child, and now it turns out you’re a fraud! I always said you didn’t have the fate for wealth—looks like I was right! Now you’re some unknown nobody, an attempted murderer… such a viper! How dare you think you deserve Xavier? Sign this immediately and get out of the Beaumont house!” Anya, already emotionally fragile, was momentarily speechless as the papers struck her cheek. It took her a moment to find her voice, laced with a barely perceptible tremor. “Is this his wish? Or yours?” Madeline lifted her chin, righteous indignation blazing. “It’s mine, and it’s his! You don’t deserve to set foot in the Beaumont mansion! Once you’re divorced, next month, Xavier will marry Vivian Fairfax! She is the rightful daughter-in-law of the Beaumont family!” Anya’s heart twisted painfully again. Was he so eager? He hadn’t even boarded the plane, yet the divorce papers were already shoved in her face. Biting back the sting in her eyes, she opened the cold document. The words “Leave Without Assets” glared back at her, stark and humiliating. In this day and age, even a servant earned wages. She had played the role of "Mrs. Beaumont" for two years, only to end up with not a single penny! Anya felt nothing but bitter irony. Madeline, seemingly terrified Anya might demand something, sneered viciously, “What more could you possibly want? If it weren’t for that mistaken identity, would you have enjoyed these two years of luxury? Be grateful! Don’t covet what was never yours! Sign it now, before I have someone escort you out…” Anya’s throat felt blocked. She finally gave up. Picking up a pen, she signed her name at the end of the document—Anya Fairfax. She thought Madeline would be satisfied now. But the woman wasn’t done. She pressed on aggressively: “And another thing! The ring you married Xavier with—hand it over immediately! That rare African blue diamond, custom-made by a master jeweler, is worth millions! Someone like you isn’t fit to possess it! The matching necklace too—return it all!” Anya’s face was icy, her voice devoid of warmth. “They’re in the safe. I never wore them.” Apart from her wedding day, she hadn’t even touched them. Madeline gave a scornful sniff. “Good! Know your place! Remember, not a single needle or thread from the Beaumonts leaves with you!” Anya looked at her, filled with nothing but disgust. “Rest assured, I won’t take a single thing that doesn’t belong to me.” People, possessions—none had ever truly been hers. Madeline finally seemed appeased. She quickly directed servants to pack Anya’s meager belongings and then, like expelling something filthy, ruthlessly threw her out of the opulent Beaumont Manor. … Six Years Later, Coastal City First Hospital. Anya had just finished a complex six-hour surgery. Exhausted, she headed towards her break room. Before she could push the door open, she clearly heard voices discussing her inside. “What was the director thinking? Letting that woman parachute in to perform surgery on Mr. James Sr.! That level of complexity—is she even capable? Mr. James Sr. was your patient, Emily! What right does she have to snatch it away?” A voice thick with resentment complained. The woman addressed as "Emily"—Dr. Emily Ross—let out a cold snort. “Hah, don’t underestimate her just because she’s young. Rumor has it she’s been involved in many similar high-level surgeries, hailed by some as the ‘Hand of Healing.’ The director pulled out all the stops to get her here.” The resentful voice grew even more indignant. “Who knows if it’s all hype? Emily, you pulled two all-nighters working on that surgical plan! Who even noticed your hard work?” Emily’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Speaking of which, I find it laughable. That woman rejected my plan outright the moment she arrived. Said it was too conservative, insisted on choosing the highest-risk approach for Mr. James Sr.” “What? But Mr. James Sr.’s condition is so complex and dangerous… she couldn’t cause a medical accident, could she?” “What’s that got to do with me?” Emily’s voice held a hint of malicious glee. “I’m not the one making the decisions or wielding the scalpel. If something goes wrong, someone else will be held responsible.” Listening to the increasingly brazen conversation inside, Anya’s expression remained impassive, as if the subject had nothing to do with her. She even casually pulled out her phone to reply to messages from her precious daughter back in the capital—little Mianmian. The little girl, missing her mother after a few days apart, was bombarding her: First day without seeing Mommy, miss you miss you miss you… Mommy, yesterday I went out with Grandpa and Grandma and saw a little boy. He always played alone and didn’t talk. I thought he was a bit like that little boy with autism you treated last time, so I told his parents. They took him for a check-up, and it turned out he really was! Mommy, am I amazing? Grandpa and Grandma both said I was so clever~~