Edwin had moved into the Pearson family residence since marrying Kathryn's mother, Donna Pearson. Kathryn bore her mother's surname, and she had grown up mostly overseas, separated from him by both distance and indifference, and they barely knew one another.

In her memories, her parents' marriage had never held warmth—only formality and long silences.

"So what?" Kathryn shot back coolly. "You seldom come home, and now suddenly show up to scold me on my mother's behalf? Who gave you that right?"

Her contempt was undisguised, sharp as frost.

Edwin's face flushed violently, red bleeding into a bruised purple as fury overtook him. He roared, "You still dare mention your mother? She died in a car crash last night while you were out fooling around with some nobody! You make me sick!"

Kathryn's expression didn't waver. She laughed softly, bitter and fearless. "Is that so? Saying that to jinx my mother now? Fine. Then I'll make sure you go first."

She lunged forward, seized his wrist, and wrenched it hard. A sickening crack echoed through the room.

Edwin's scream tore through the villa.

His mistress, Sylvia Blake, rushed in, helping the collapsed man upright, her eyes burning with malice as she stared at Kathryn—as though she were looking at Donna herself, the woman who had overshadowed her for decades.

Edwin had refused divorce all these years. Now, at last, Sylvia could stand openly in the light.

She flung a document at Kathryn. "See for yourself, you wretch. Your mother is dead. Crushed so badly they could barely identify her."

The paper fluttered to the floor. Kathryn's gaze followed it mechanically. The name printed there was unmistakable—her mother's. Her features froze.

"Kathryn, your mother… she's gone." Vicki Adams, Donna's trusted aide, rushed in from outside, eyes red with tears. She reached out and held Kathryn's trembling hand.

Kathryn's pupils dilated. A numbing cold surged through her veins, locking her body in place.

"Impossible!" The word finally escaped her, broken and shaking. Terror flickered in her eyes as reality crashed down—her mother couldn't be gone, not like this.

Vicki traced two careful words into Kathryn's palm. "Not dead."

The crushing fear in Kathryn's chest loosened slightly. She didn't know what had truly happened to her mother, but she instantly understood—she had to follow Vicki's cue and keep the act going.

Vicki's voice trembled as she spoke, eyes reddened. "Please… come with me to see your mother one last time."

Kathryn turned to leave with Vicki, but Hannah Lambert abruptly blocked her path. "You're not taking another step unless you sign away all inheritance rights," Hannah threatened coldly. "Refuse, and I'll make sure everyone knows you're illegitimate—and that your mother betrayed the marriage."

A smug curve lifted Hannah's lips, naked greed gleaming in her eyes.

Kathryn gave her a single, icy look, and then swung her arm without hesitation. The slap landed hard, sending Hannah reeling before she crashed onto the floor.

"You bitch! How dare you hit my daughter?" Sylvia shrieked as she lunged forward.

Only then did realization strike Kathryn—Hannah was Sylvia's daughter. No wonder Edwin had kept both women close, one as the housekeeper, the other as an adopted daughter.

A nest of vipers.

Kathryn raised her leg and drove her heel straight into Sylvia's abdomen. Sylvia flew backward, slammed into the wall, and collapsed, blood spraying from her mouth.

"Mom!" Hannah screamed instinctively. Panicked, she spun toward the men who had come with them. "What are you standing around for? Grab her! Make her sign it!"

The men froze, staring at the scene in disbelief. None of them dared move. Fear had already taken root.

"Your mother cheated on me, Kathryn. I've endured that humiliation long enough! That property is mine! You won't take a single cent!" Edwin roared, veins bulging. He ordered his men, "Take her down!"

Hearing him insult her mother again shattered the last of Kathryn's restraint. Rage surged. She stormed forward, yanked Edwin down by the collar, smashed him to the floor, and drove her heel onto his already-broken wrist.

Edwin's scream pierced the air—shrill, broken, and desperate. His body convulsed as he begged incoherently, finally realizing how badly he had misjudged her.

He had always thought Kathryn was nothing more than a pampered girl raised abroad. Never once had he imagined she could be this terrifying.

"Get out." Kathryn's voice was merciless. At her command, the three scrambled away, dragging their people with them in blind panic.

Only after silence reclaimed the villa did Vicki finally speak again, her expression grave.

"Your mother was ambushed on her return. We switched her out. The body they found wasn't hers."

The tight coil in Kathryn's chest finally eased. She demanded sharply, "Who tried to kill my mother?"

Vicki let out a long, heavy breath. "All signs point to your biological father."

Kathryn froze in place.

What was this mess supposed to mean? So Edwin wasn't even her biological father? Strangely enough, that realization felt like a weight lifting off her chest.

Vicki slowly unraveled the truth. "In those days, your mother was completely taken with your real father. He refused marriage outright, so she made a reckless choice—forced a one night with him, then vanished and carried you in secrecy."

"Wait—are you saying my mom basically trapped my dad into it?" Kathryn blurted out, her voice wobbling. An odd mix of shock and inherited audacity crept through her.

Vicki hesitated, and then sighed. "In blunt terms… yes. But he never knew it was her. For over twenty years, he's been searching for the woman who disappeared after that night."

"So she staged her death again and went into hiding?"

Once the full picture settled in, Kathryn was left with a storm of conflicting feelings. To avoid arousing her biological father's suspicions, she followed her mother's plan—attending the cremation and sitting through every step as if it were genuine.

When it was finally over, she prioritized her own safety. If Nathan traced her, she would be cornered.

There was no time to linger. She issued swift instructions to Vicki, grabbed her passport, and headed straight for the airport.

She passed smoothly through the VIP channel, scanned her ticket, and walked toward the boarding gate.

"Kathryn Pearson!"

A voice sharp as frost sliced through the space behind her, sending a chill up her spine.

That voice… she knew it.

The person's reflection in the glass wall sharpened, revealing a tall, imposing silhouette closing in.

The instant she tried to flee, men in black suits surged forward, sealing off every escape.

"Turn around," Nathan commanded, his tone coiled with restrained fury.

Nathan—twenty-nine, heir to one of Baxwell's most formidable families. Brilliant, merciless, and the city's most coveted bachelor.

He stopped directly behind her. When she refused to face him, he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur.

"You're the first woman who's ever dared do that to me."

Kathryn's heart skipped violently. Memories from the night before crashed back, heat rushing to her ears until they burned.

Left with no choice, she turned slowly and forced a casual grin.

"Well, Nathan. Small world, huh?"

Nathan's expression darkened further, fists tightening at his sides. "Don't even think about running. You're coming with me."

She muttered under her breath, "Tch. Take away your bodyguards and see if you'd still sound so confident."

Even so, she followed him, trailing behind like a chastened child who knew resistance would only make things worse.

Vince Graham, the aide nearby, caught her offhand greeting and the teasing lilt she used with Nathan, and despite himself, admiration flickered for her sheer nerve.

Onlookers stared as the notoriously distant Nathan escorted a stunning woman away, murmurs rippling through the crowd at once.

"So the crown jewel of the elite has been claimed—there'll be tears from the social set tonight."

"Seriously, did you see his expression? Like he wanted to rip her apart. That's not romance—she definitely crossed him."

"I heard she's Kathryn Pearson. Supposedly her mother died in a traffic accident, and rumors say the woman was unfaithful and paid for it."

...

Inside the polished black sedan, Kathryn watched the man beside her cautiously, the pressure of his simmering anger almost visible.

Without a word, a blade snapped toward her. She moved on instinct, locking onto the wrist that wielded it.

"Homicide isn't a joke. Are you really ready to ruin your life over me? Think twice."

Fire flared in Nathan's eyes, her steady voice only stoking it further as he forced the knife down with savage intent.

"Oh? Then maybe I'll end you and let the ocean take care of the rest."

The menace in his tone sent a shiver through her. She sensed his strength outweighed hers. Unease crept in, and she abruptly shifted gears, adopting reckless bravado.

"So what if I slept with you? If that's the problem, sleep with me again and call it even."

Vince, at the wheel, nearly lost his soul at her words. His foot slammed the brake, and the car skidded to a jarring halt.

The impact pitched them forward. The blade slipped, its edge scoring Kathryn's skin as a thin streak of red bloomed.

Her eyes hardened. Seizing the instant Nathan faltered, she ripped the knife free and flung it into the front seat.

It hit with a dull smack. Vince gaped at them through the mirror, voice trembling. "I—I'm sorry… I braked too hard."

Kathryn spared him a brief look, took the adhesive bandage he shakily offered, and then leveled a glacial stare back at Nathan.

Nathan met her unyielding gaze, memories crashing in—the desperation there last night, followed by her shameless provocation now. His expression darkened further.

This woman truly knew no restraint.

He wrenched his eyes away. If he kept looking, he might actually snap and end her.

Only then did Kathryn inch toward the door, heart racing. Escape wasn't possible yet—she'd have to wait, adapt, and survive moment by moment.

Nathan escorted Kathryn out of the car himself, his grip firm as he led her through a concealed entrance and down into his villa's forbidden lower level.

The underground chamber she was pushed into was reinforced with steel walls and surveillance cameras, sealed tight with a single exit. One glance told her everything—there was no escaping this place.

She had been trapped.

"You won't be stepping out of this room," Nathan said coolly, sinking into the sofa as though he were merely discussing the weather, calculation flashing in his eyes. "The lock is controlled externally. You'll stay here until the child is born."

Kathryn's pulse thundered in her ears. She snapped back, disbelief and fury colliding, "Are you insane? A child? What makes you think I'd ever carry a baby for you?"

Nathan's gaze drifted to the dried blood at her neck. He swallowed the violent impulse rising within him and instead curved his lips into a chilling smile.

"You got into my bed with one goal—to get pregnant, didn't you? Then you planned to use the baby as leverage to force me into marriage."

Kathryn let out a sharp laugh, rolling her eyes in open contempt. "Marriage? Don't flatter yourself. Unlock the door and let me leave—now."

She had never wanted his name or status. His genetics were all she had come for, and she already had them.

Nathan paused, surprise flickering across his features. Women usually clawed their way toward his surname. This one wanted nothing of it. He studied her anew, reassessing the reckless woman who dared defy him so openly.

"You crossed a line when you slept with me. Actions have consequences," he said coldly. "One year. After the child is born, you walk free."

Rage warped Kathryn's expression. She had never imagined being cornered into something so cruel.

Her hands clenched until her joints cracked. Without warning, she lunged and swung at him with all her strength.

Having fought with her the previous night, Nathan had stayed alert this whole time. He reacted instantly, blocking and striking back.

They clashed in a vicious exchange, neither yielding, oblivious to the footsteps approaching behind them.

"That's enough! You reckless brat—lay another hand on her and I'll tear you apart! My precious great-grandchild comes first!" Eunice Walker stormed in, striding forward and slapping Nathan hard.

The words "precious great-grandchild" stunned Nathan. He froze for a split second—long enough to take the slap from his grandmother and another punch from Kathryn.

Nathan staggered back, pain exploding through old injuries. He coughed harshly, breath coming uneven.

He lifted his head and shot a lethal glare at Vince, who stood frozen behind the others. The look alone demanded how security had failed so spectacularly.

Vince shrank, staring at the floor, unable to offer a single word in defense.

Kathryn stared at the newcomer in disbelief, the question escaping before she could stop it. "Eunice? What are you doing here?" She had known the older woman for years through her mother's friendship.

"Oh, Kathryn, darling. What a coincidence," Eunice said brightly, seizing Kathryn's hand as she laughed, delight gleaming in her eyes without restraint.

Eunice spun toward Nathan and fixed him with a blistering stare. She let out a sharp snort, and then smoothed her expression and turned back, her tone turning coaxing and warm.

"Kathryn, dear, I'm Nathan's grandmother. Ignore his nonsense—our family never dodges responsibility."

She added, "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll personally see to it that you become Nathan's wife."

Kathryn went rigid, as if struck by a bolt of lightning. She gaped at Eunice in outright alarm, shaking her head again and again.

"Eunice, that's not what I want."

"Grandma, enough."

Nathan and Kathryn spoke almost at the same time.

Eunice knew her nearly thirty-year-old grandson all too well. After years of stubborn bachelorhood, he had finally slept with a woman—there was no chance she would allow him to wriggle free now. She intended to bind them together once and for all.

Especially when the woman involved happened to be her favorite—Kathryn.

She lifted her hand and slapped Nathan again, this time striking directly over the wound on his back. Vince flinched and reflexively ducked, wincing as if the blow had landed on him instead.

With Eunice firmly inserted into the situation, it was clear things were about to spiral in a far more dramatic direction.