The Unexpected Heirs to the Alpha | Read Free Preview

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Chapter 1 — The Beginning

Belle's POV:
I'm Belle Harmon, a 20-year-old with a loving older sister and an adoring boyfriend. While I grew up without parents, my sister has always been there for me. And now, after a whirlwind three-month romance, my boyfriend proposed, saying that marrying me would be the best thing he's ever done.
I thought I was going to be a happy bride, filled with the excitement of our wedding and dreams of a sweet life together. However, my world came crashing down on our wedding night when I discovered my groom was gay.
To make matters even worse, he and his boyfriend raped me.
He raped me twice, and his boyfriend three times.
I had cried myself empty, my body wracked with sobs and pain.
"Belle, you need to get pregnant with our child soon," said Henry, my so-called husband. "Give us two children, and I'll set you free."
"Why? If you want children, you could pay for an egg donor or use a surrogate!"
I was lost and confused. He could have achieved his goal without destroying me. I had dreamed of marriage and having my own children. But now, those dreams were shattered.
"That's too expensive," Henry sneered, his eyes filled with disgust. "You're just a free tool."
"Exactly. Disgusting as it may be, you can still bear children," his boyfriend added, "so we'll just have to see if you get pregnant."
"You're monsters! Both of you!"
I screamed, but my words were met with silence. They held me captive, confiscating my phone and any means of communication. I was trapped in that room, barely kept alive with meager rations of food and water. Escaping is an impossible dream.
A month later, I took a pregnancy test. It was negative.
Their fury was palpable, but instead of physical violence, they resorted to a crueler tactic. They meticulously calculated my ovulation cycle, planning to repeatedly violate me.
I feigned submission, playing the role of the obedient captive, even cooperating during my fertile days.
This lulled them into a false sense of security, and I seized my chance. While they were preoccupied with each other, I escaped.
Battered, bruised, and carrying the evidence of their assaults within me, I went to the police. But justice was not served.
Henry, wielding his wealth, hired a formidable lawyer who skillfully twisted my accusations into a mere "marital discord." The legal system failed me; all I received was a divorce.
After receiving the divorce certificate, I fled that very night, afraid they'd retaliate. I prayed that Henry and his boyfriend would never be able to have children.
Thankfully, my prayer was answered—I still wasn't pregnant.
The relief was overwhelming; I couldn't bear the thought of carrying their child.
I settled in a city called Alabaster, but I couldn't start a new life. I was haunted by nightmares, unable to interact with people normally. Just seeing men made me shake with fear, except when it came to my sister and brother-in-law.
When I had initially pressed charges against Henry, my sister had poured her life savings into my case. After the devastating loss, she brought me to Alabaster to help me escape. She and her husband ran a small clothing factory there. However, her husband resented her for spending their savings, forcing her to work tirelessly to repay the debt, leaving her little time to care for me.
Concerned about my well-being, she suggested, "Don't you always love children? Maybe you could consider having a baby through IVF. I heard Alabaster has a reputable sperm bank."
"Alright, I'll think about it."
The truth was, I'd always adored children. Their presence brought me joy, a sense of light, and life. My sister's suggestion resonated with me; I wanted to move forward and ease her worries.
In the year since arriving in Alabaster, I had slowly begun to heal. Nightmares still surfaced occasionally, but they no longer consumed my days. I started to rebuild my life, working diligently and saving every penny. With newfound determination, I carefully selected a donor from a reputable sperm bank. The doctor there was incredibly kind, and we developed a genuine friendship. With her support, I successfully conceived.
She assured me I'd made a good choice. The sperm bank catered to many affluent individuals, some storing sperm for preservation, others contributing to infertility research.
But those details were irrelevant to me. All that mattered was the donor's excellent genetic profile and the incredible news that I was expecting twins.
I rented a live-work space, with a small storefront on the first floor and my living quarters upstairs. I converted the ground floor into a little bakery called Sweetheart Bakery.
With my baking skills, I was confident I could provide a secure future for myself and my babies.
In the blink of an eye, two years had passed, and my twins were now a year and a half old.
My son is named Sunny Harmon, and my daughter is named Moona Harmon.
The two little ones were starting to talk and take their first steps, absolutely adorable. Their presence filled my once-dark life with sunlight, helping me leave the pain of the past behind.
Until today, when my daughter came down with a fever.
"Erin Johnson," I said to the nanny, "Moona has a slight fever. Can you watch Sunny while I take her to the hospital?"
"Be careful," Erin said. "It's rush hour now, so the roads are crowded."
"No worries," I replied, settling my daughter into the stroller. "The hospital isn't far. I'll just take it slow."
I temporarily closed the bakery downstairs and set off with the stroller.
To reach the hospital, I had to cross a busy intersection.
The area was packed, with schools, a residential community, and the hospital all nearby.
Clunk!
While turning a corner, I accidentally bumped the stroller into the back of a slowly moving car.
The stroller tipped over, and the cloth bag in the storage basket fell to the ground.
Keys, my phone, tissues, a bottle, diapers ... all scattered everywhere.
"Waaa!" Startled, Moona opened her mouth and started crying.
Flustered, I tried to soothe her while bending down to gather everything off the ground.
"What, are you using your child to stage an accident?"
A cold, low voice spoke, and I noticed a pair of shiny black leather shoes next to me.
Looking up from the shoes, I saw long, straight legs in tailored black dress pants.
Above them was an exquisite black suit jacket, and underneath it, a man who looked to be about 30.
His features were striking, his gaze deep and cold like stars on a winter night.
And yet ... those eyes seemed strangely familiar.
The man radiated an aura of authority as he moved closer, his aloof elegance sending chills down my spine.
That's when I noticed I had bumped into the back of a luxury Bentley Continental.
The bumper had a nasty scrape, with a chunk of paint peeling off miserably.
This damage would easily cost 2,000 or 3,000 dollars to repair.
"Uh ... "
I started to panic, sweat forming on my forehead. I barely even noticed the scattered items on the ground.
Even Moona's cries from the stroller couldn't pull my attention away.
"I'm sorry, sir. It was an accident—I didn't mean to. Please tell me how I can make this right."
The man frowned, his well-defined brows furrowing, looking annoyed.
"Forget it. I don't have time to deal with this."
He turned to leave, but I couldn't just ignore the damage. I had caused it, after all.
"Sir!" I reached out and grabbed his sleeves. "I'll pay for it. Could you leave me a number? You can send me the bill, and I'll transfer the money."
He scoffed, his eyes raking over me with disdain. "It costs about 2,000 or 3,000. Are you sure you can afford me?"
"I know it's around 2,000 or 3,000," I mumbled, "but that's okay. I'll pay in installments, if that's alright? Don't worry, I won't go back on my word."
He looked at me for a moment, then recited a number, which I hastily saved.
"I'll wait for your message."
"Hmm." He replied coolly, then turned to go. Meanwhile, I stared at the stroller, realizing the wheel was bent and wouldn't budge.
"Uh, sir, could you help me a bit?" I asked, trying my luck. "The wheel's damaged, and I can't push it."
The man frowned, but he stepped back toward me.
He looked down at the stroller's wheel, thought for a moment, then glanced up at me.
"Take the child out. I'll give it a try."
I scooped up my sniffling daughter, soothing her with gentle pats. Then, I watched in surprise as he effortlessly squatted down, gripped the stroller's wheel, and popped it back into place.
I stared, wide-eyed. How strong was he? He made it look so easy.
"Thank you so much!" I said, delighted, and hurried to pick up the scattered items. But with my daughter in my arms, I'd grab the bottle only to drop the keys, pick up the tissues only for the bag to slip from my grasp.
Maybe he got fed up watching me struggle, because the man ended up helping me gather everything.
I noticed he glanced at my daughter several times; he seemed to like children.
And in that moment, a thought sparked in my mind—a flash of recognition. I suddenly remembered why he looked so familiar.
He was Leroy Tucker!
A billionaire on the Pantheon Billionaires List!
He was already at the pinnacle of society, with anything he could ever want at his fingertips. But little was known about his personal life. The only detail I had was from my doctor friend, who once mentioned that he had almost no fertility.
She'd also told me I had an exceptionally high fertility rate, so if it were me, I might actually be able to have a child with Leroy.
Could he be the father of my twins?
The idea flashed through my mind, but I immediately dismissed it. What was I even thinking? A man of his status would never deposit sperm in a public bank.
Even if he had, there's no way I would have been able to buy it for just 3,000 dollars.

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Chapter 2 — Daddy

Belle's POV:
After gathering up all the scattered items, Leroy gently patted my daughter's head. His movements were practiced, almost as if he was used to caring for children. I couldn't help but ask, "Do you have a child around her age?"
"No," Leroy replied, looking a bit surprised, but he still answered me.
His words brought a flicker of sympathy to my eyes. It seemed the rumors were true; he couldn't have children.
Thankfully, I had my two precious little ones. Holding my daughter tightly in my arms, I felt a surge of gratitude.
"What's wrong with her?" Leroy asked.
"She has a fever. I was just on my way to take her to the hospital."
"Let me drive you," Leroy said, frowning slightly.
I shook my head. "That's really not necessary. It's just a short walk."
"She's running a fever. You shouldn't waste time." His face darkened. "Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have a child?"
"Of course I do, but really, I don't want to bother you ... "
"Get in," Leroy ordered, already holding open the back door of his car.
I hesitated for a moment, realizing that there was no point in arguing with him.
He spoke with a tone of authority, leaving no room for refusal.
So I climbed into the car with Moona in my arms.
The car sped toward the hospital.
"Her fever's up to 102.6°F—there's a risk it could turn into pneumonia!"
The doctor adjusted his glasses, looking back and forth between me and Leroy.
"How can you as the parents be so careless? Aren't you worried about the damage a high fever could cause?"
"Wait, doctor, we're not ... "
"Enough with the excuses. Parents today are so irresponsible, always absorbed in their own lives!"
"No, what I mean is, we're ... "
"Stop standing around and go pay the fees," the doctor said, ignoring me and handing the bill to Leroy. "The child needs to be admitted for treatment. How can you just stand there as the father?"
"Oh, no, that's not ... " I turned to Leroy, about to explain, but he was already walking briskly away with the bill in hand, his face unreadable.
"Doctor, you misunderstood," I finally managed to say. "He's not my child's father!"
The doctor's voice was sharp with disapproval. "You young people are all alike. Here you are in the hospital, still bickering. If your relationship is over, then end it. But at least acknowledge that this child is yours, your own flesh and blood! They're the spitting image of you both."
I gaped at him.
Before long, Moona was admitted to the pediatric ward, and a nurse came in with a cart full of supplies to set up her IV.
"Waa!" Moona took one look at the equipment and started wailing. She was terrified of needles.
"No, Mommy, it hurts! Moona doesn't want it!"
"Shh, shh," I held her tightly. "Moona is sick. How else will you get better if you don't take the medicine?
"Mommy's here. It'll be over soon. Be a good girl and don't cry."
As I struggled to comfort my daughter, I glanced around and realized that Leroy was gone.
I figured he must have left by now.
To be honest, I'd gotten used to this kind of chaos. When I first had the twins, I would have been overwhelmed by it, but now it was just part of life.
"Don't cry, sweetheart," the nurse said gently, holding the shiny IV tube with a drop of medicine glistening on the tip of the needle. "I will do it very slowly. It won't hurt at all!"
Moona's cries grew louder; she knew better than to believe the nurse's lie.
How could a needle not hurt?
"Mommy, no needle, it hurts! Moona doesn't want it, waah!"
"Give this to her."
A shadow fell over me, and suddenly a lollipop shaped like a little bunny appeared in front of us.
I looked up in surprise and saw that Leroy had returned.
Apparently, he hadn't left earlier; he'd gone out to buy a lollipop.
"Oh ... thank you." I hesitated but accepted the gesture, as Moona's little eyes lit up at the sight of the cartoon bunny candy. She pouted and sniffled, but she stopped crying.
"Candy, I want bunny candy," she said.
She reached out her chubby little hand to grab the lollipop, immediately popping it into her mouth.
The nurse took the opportunity to quickly insert the IV needle into her little hand.
With the lollipop in her mouth, Moona only whimpered a little and then calmed down.
"Looks like Daddy knows how to handle things," the nurse smiled. "He got the baby to settle down right away."
My face flushed bright red.
"He isn't ... "
Before I could finish, the nurse had already wheeled her cart out of the room.
I glanced up at Leroy, feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry for the misunderstanding."
"It's fine," Leroy replied, his face expressionless.
His deep, dark eyes were fixed on Moona, who was contentedly licking her lollipop.
"I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time," I said softly. "I really appreciate your help, and about the hospital fees ... let me know the amount, and I'll transfer it to you later."
"Don't worry about it," Leroy said, glancing at his watch. "I have other things to attend to, so I'll be going now."
Just as Leroy turned to leave, Moona's tiny voice piped up from the hospital bed, "Da-ddy?"

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Chapter 3 — They Look So Much Alike

Belle's POV:
Both Leroy and I froze in shock, and then I felt his sharp gaze fix on my face.
He must think I'm trying to use my child to get close to him.
"Mr. Tucker, please don't misunderstand," I rushed to explain. "She's probably just been watching too many cartoons."
Leroy let out a soft scoff, clearly about to say something, but Moona interrupted him.
My daughter gazed up at him, her eyes sparkling, and reached out her chubby little hands. "I want Daddy to hold me. Daddy smells so nice."
Leroy froze, and I stammered, "She's just babbling ... please don't take it seriously!"
A nearby nurse looked at us in bewilderment. "You two are strange. The child wants her daddy to hold her, and you're both refusing?"
"No, it's not ... " I started to explain, but Leroy had already leaned down. "I'll hold her."
I stood there, dumbfounded, as I watched Leroy carefully lift Moona into his arms and sit down on the edge of the hospital bed with her.
Moona's little hands clutched tightly to Leroy's black shirt, her face filled with contentment.
Normally, Moona was clingy only with me. This was the first time I'd ever seen her so attached to a stranger. Could it be that my little girl has a thing for handsome men?
I lowered my head and murmured, "Mr. Tucker, I'm really sorry for all the trouble. She's not usually this affectionate ... "
Leroy sat on the edge of the bed, holding Moona, his head down as he gazed intently at the little one in his arms.
"My name is Moona Harmon," she said, snuggling against him, her long lashes still wet with tears. "Daddy, you're as handsome as my brother!"
Leroy looked taken aback.
I quickly explained, "Oh! I often tell her at home that her brother is handsome and she's pretty, so she remembers it. Whenever she sees a boy she likes, she says he looks like her brother."
"You have a son, too?" Leroy looked up at me for the first time. "How old is he?"
"He's the same age as her—eighteen months," I said with a happy smile. "They're twins, a boy and a girl."
"That's wonderful," Leroy said, smiling slightly. Then he added, "You and your husband must be very happy."
I lowered my gaze, biting my lip slightly. "The children don't have a father."
Leroy raised an eyebrow, smirking. "What, did you reproduce asexually?"
Not wanting him to ask further questions, I said, "I was already separated when I got pregnant, so the children aren't related to him."
"Well." Leroy nodded, seeming to drop the topic.
"Um ... " I changed the subject. "Mr. Tucker, it's almost one o'clock now. You haven't eaten lunch yet. How about I order some takeout?"
"Just get something for yourself," Leroy said in his low, pleasant voice. "I won't be staying to eat."
"Fine, forget it," I said. "I'll take the child now. You can head home. I really appreciate your help today."
Leroy didn't hesitate. He gently passed Moona back to me.
Moona had finally fallen asleep, no longer clinging to Leroy. As I watched him walk away, I felt an inexplicable sense of relief; being around him made me a bit tense.
We'd exchanged contact information, but I hadn't expected that just a short while later, I would receive a message from him.
"I ordered lunch for you. Wait for it to arrive."
I held my phone, frowning slightly. His thoughtfulness was almost too much, bringing up some unpleasant memories.
After some thought, I typed a quick reply. "Thank you."
Before long, someone arrived with a lunchbox.
But the person who brought it wasn't a typical delivery worker—it was a man in his thirties, dressed in a navy suit and neatly tied tie. He didn't look like he was here to deliver food.
He had an ID badge around his neck, though he'd tucked it into his jacket pocket.
"Ms. Harmon?" The man smiled professionally. "I'm here to deliver your lunch."
"Thank you," I said, my curiosity piqued. "Where is your restaurant located? You seem very professional."
The man didn't answer directly. Instead, he opened the lunchbox efficiently and laid out four dishes and a soup.
One of the dishes was shrimp egg custard, clearly prepared specifically for a child.
"Sir," I said, startled, "this must have been expensive, right?"
"Not at all. Just some simple home-style dishes," the man replied with a smile. "They're here for you and your child. Enjoy them while they're hot."
As he spoke, he glanced at Moona lying on the hospital bed, her big eyes blinking at him. He muttered under his breath, "They look so much alike ... "
Then he packed up the empty lunchbox, nodded politely, and left.
I turned back to look at my daughter.
They look so much alike ...
Of course my daughter looked like me!
My son and daughter must have inherited the best features from both parents. They were adorable no matter how I looked at them.
I should be grateful to the man I'd never met who'd given me such wonderful babies.
But if I'd known what lay ahead, I would never have felt gratitude toward that man ...

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