Ryan's smile faltered. A flicker of tension crossed his face as he gently placed his hand on Harper's lower belly.

"Why does your stomach hurt? Don't tell me… you're actually pregnant?" His eyes held a trace of surprise—and something else, a fleeting joy that surfaced too quickly for even him to catch.

"You should lie down and rest. We'll go to the hospital tomorrow and check it out."

Harper shook her head, her emotions tangled in silence. "Maybe I'm just tired. I want to take a few days and really rest."

Ryan frowned slightly but nodded. "I'll go heat up some milk."

It was a small habit of hers since childhood, something that once made her feel cared for—proof that she was loved, in her own quiet way.

But ever since she discovered he'd slipped sleeping pills into her milk, even that faint warmth had evaporated.

As soon as he left, she picked up her phone, fingers trembling slightly. Sure enough, a friend request had come through.

Her eyes locked onto the name: Fiancé.

Harper bit her lip.

So pushy, she thought. They weren't even close to being engaged.

She hovered over the "accept" button, still hesitating, when a call from Gabe lit up her screen.

"Harper, that George's son is flying in tomorrow. Come home and have dinner with us."

Tomorrow? Hadn't they said it would be another week?

She frowned. "I already have plans."

Her father, mistaking her excuse for a brush-off, sounded displeased. "He pushed aside a whole bunch of things just to come back early. He's taking this seriously—you should too!"

His words made her pause. Her heart stirred, just a little.

"Dad, I really do have other plans."

Her university class president was getting married. A bunch of old classmates were meeting up to hit the bar—one last wild night before he settled down.

Gabe didn't push. He figured it'd look bad for her to seem antisocial in front of her friends.

But once Harper arrived and got dragged into the VIP booth, she regretted it.

Ryan was there. And so was Olivia. Along with that same group of spoiled, arrogant heirs she'd seen too many times before.

Had she known they'd be here, she would've gone home to meet her so-called fiancé instead.

The bar was already buzzing, alcohol thick in the air.

"Come on, let's play a game!"

They pulled her over, hands on her shoulders and arms, pressing a can of dice into her hands.

"Loser either drinks three shots or kisses someone!"

The cheers and laughter grew louder, wild and unfiltered.

Olivia lost the first round. Her face twisted in mock frustration.

"Ugh. I caught a cold recently, took some meds… I really can't drink."

But the others howled like wolves.

"Kiss! Kiss! Olivia, pick me!"

"You? Dream on. If she's picking someone, it's gotta be Ryan."

Instantly, all eyes turned to Ryan.

"Hey, cut it out," someone laughed nervously. "He's a clean freak—hates being touched. We're lucky he even showed up tonight. Don't scare him off."

Olivia's cheeks flushed. She turned slightly toward him.

"Ryan… can I pick you?"

Harper's hands curled tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on Ryan.

Across the chaotic blur of people, their gazes met.

She wanted to know too—what would he say, right here in front of her?

And then, she had her answer.

Ryan's lips curved into a lazy smile. He looked down at Olivia, his gaze soft.

"My pleasure."

The room exploded into whoops and whistles, drowning out the music.

Harper's ears rang with it. Her chest tightened.

Everything around her slowed—like watching a painful memory in slow motion, crystal clear and inescapable.

Olivia wrapped her arm around his, moving in with flushed cheeks and shy boldness.

Just as their lips were about to meet, Ryan suddenly looked up.

And what he saw made his heart skip.

Harper wasn't flustered. Wasn't angry.

Her eyes—usually soft and easily stirred by him—were still and deep, like water left undisturbed in a shadowed well.

Quiet. Cold.

At the very last second, Ryan turned his head.

Olivia's kiss landed awkwardly at the corner of his mouth.

The dim lighting helped. No one noticed the shift. They were all too caught up in the thrill, the laughter.

Only Olivia's smile wavered for a second. She dipped her head, feigning shyness, hiding the flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

Next round, the loser was Harper.

She frowned.

"I'm allergic to alcohol…"

The boys around Ryan booed loudly.

"Olivia said she couldn't drink either and now you've got a reason too? That's just copying her—how lame."

"Fine, then pick someone to kiss."

Harper glanced around, her face going pale.

There wasn't a single person here she'd even consider getting close to.

One guy's eyes lit up with mischief. He slid up beside her and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Harper, how about me? I'm a damn good kisser, promise I'll blow your mind."

The stench of alcohol hit her skin like rot. Harper's scalp tingled in panic—she shoved at him, struggling to break free.

But he held fast, his grip like a vice.

Heart racing, Harper instinctively looked to Ryan.

He knew she was allergic to alcohol. He knew.

He had just accepted Olivia's kiss so easily. Was it really so hard for him to show a little decency and get her out of this?

Someone laughed crudely. "What's she looking at Ryan for? Want to kiss him too?"

"Please. Everyone knows the Delgado and Sullivan families are enemies. If she's still clinging to him, that's some next-level pathetic."

Ryan's gaze darkened. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

He took a sip of wine, calm and unbothered, watching the scene like it was nothing more than entertainment. He said nothing.

At that moment, Harper's hands stopped struggling. They simply… dropped.

They were right.

She really was pathetic.

Falling in love with the son of her family's greatest rival. Still harboring hope—even now.

The taunts, the humiliation—they stung. But it was Ryan's silence, his passive watching from the sidelines, that broke her.

That severed the last rope holding her above the drop.

Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

She gave up.

Just as that greasy mouth was about to land on Harper's lips, Ryan's eyes darkened. He finally set down his wine glass, ready to put an end to this farce.

Before he could even open his mouth, Harper suddenly doubled over and vomited a sour stream of bile.

The man trying to take advantage of her turned pale and let go immediately. But Harper, face ashen, kept dry heaving, unable to stop.

The crowd finally sensed that something was wrong.

"Did she eat something bad?"

"No… this feels more like—pregnancy?"

Ryan shot to his feet. The glass in his hand shattered against the floor, splashing shards and wine all over Olivia's leg.

"Harper! Are you really… pregnant?"

He didn't care at all about the mess. He rushed forward, pulling her into his arms. There wasn't a trace of the neat freak in him now.

Harper instinctively cradled her stomach, her lips trembling.

"I think… my period's been late for a while."

Ryan swept her into his arms, barely containing the smile tugging at his lips.

"You guys keep playing. I'm taking her to the hospital!"

He tossed out the words and bolted from the bar like the wind, not sparing a glance at anyone's reaction.

The people left behind stared after them, bewildered.

"Harper's feeling unwell, but why's Ryan so worked up about it?"

"Weren't they supposed to hate each other? Like, hardcore hate?"

The second-generation heirs all exchanged strange looks. Their faces wore the same complicated expression.

Seeing Olivia sitting there alone, looking crushed, they quickly gathered around her.

"Olivia, don't be sad. Even if Harper is really pregnant, Ryan would never marry her!"

"Exactly! Ryan said it himself—back in our graduation year, when Gabe bullied you, he only went after Harper to get revenge for you!"

Everyone tried to comfort her with a chorus of half-truths and reassurances, but Olivia's smile was clearly forced.

Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, her face falling even further. Mumbling something about getting fresh air, she stepped into a quiet corner.

"I told you I'd transfer the money," she snapped.

The voice on the other end was sleazy and mocking. "Well, you're taking too damn long. The guys I owe don't believe in patience."

A dark look clouded Olivia's eyes. She said she'd take care of it soon.

"You better. Or I'll start selling those wild videos of you with all those different men."

Her hand trembled as she hung up, the rage pulsing in her chest.

She had always aimed for a rich man, but somehow, she'd fallen for a fake.

Years abroad—nothing to show for it.

She thought she could circle back and snag Ryan. But now Harper was pregnant.

He kept denying any feelings, but Olivia wasn't fooled. She had long noticed that his supposed coldness toward Harper wasn't as absolute as he claimed.

Once the child was born… blood would speak louder than denial. Who knew what he'd feel then?

Why else would he have bolted out of there like that—so panicked, so protective?

At the hospital, Harper's fingers drifted over the tiny form on the ultrasound screen.

Ryan pulled her close and kissed her.

"I'm going to be a dad!"

He looked at her, grinning. "Why so quiet? Are you that happy?"

Harper's heart was a tangle of confusion. A sudden thought popped into her mind.

"When… when did you stop using protection?"

Ryan blinked, then said after a beat, "Half a year ago, maybe?"

He chuckled. "Can you blame me? You always looked so blissed out in bed, you didn't even notice."

Harper lowered her hand. The strength drained from her limbs.

Ryan didn't notice a thing—he thought she was just tired and helped her lie down gently.

"The baby's just two months. Once things stabilize, let's tell your dad, okay?"

Harper opened her mouth but couldn't get any words out.

She had been prepared to leave quietly.

But the baby changed everything.

How could she explain this to her parents? And what about her fiancé?

Should she get rid of it in secret?

Her hand unconsciously rested on her lower abdomen, protective already.

The painful truth dawned on her—she couldn't do it. Couldn't bring herself to. This was her child.

With so much weighing on her mind, she barely slept at night. The pregnancy was already showing signs of instability.

These days, Ryan stayed home to care for her. The Delgado heir who couldn't tell scallions from garlic now learned to make soup and stew dishes under the housekeeper's guidance.

He even massaged her legs and soaked her feet.

Once, all of this would've seemed unbelievably sweet.

But now, watching his face full of tender joy, Harper only felt he was preparing—getting ready to one day hurt her without mercy.

There was no going back to the way things were.

"I said I'm not going out. Try bothering me again and see what happens." Ryan stood on the balcony, a cigarette between his fingers—unlit.

He said he was quitting for the baby.

"Come on, Ryan, don't tell us you're actually buying into this act?" The voices on the other end of the call groaned in disbelief.

"Don't tell us you've fallen for her just because of the kid. Are you actually thinking of marrying Harper? Olivia was heartbroken after you left that night!"

Ryan's smile faded a little.

Behind him, Harper had quietly appeared.

She spoke up. "If you want to go, go. No need to keep turning your friends down because of me."

Ryan quickly hit the end call button.

"I barely have enough time to take care of you—where would I find the energy to go fooling around?"

Harper gave a half smile. "If you're worried about the baby, don't be. I'll take care of myself. If you're worried about me… you really don't need to be. You can kiss whoever you want, mess around with whoever you like. I won't mind."

Ryan's expression darkened. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Why wouldn't you mind? You're my girlfriend!"

Harper let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Girlfriend? I thought I was your arch-nemesis."

The words caught him off guard. A beat passed, and then it clicked—she was still upset about what had happened at the bar.

Realizing that, oddly, made him feel a little pleased.

"You were jealous?" he said, coaxing her as he slowly guided her toward the bedroom. "I didn't let Olivia kiss me that night. I turned away at the last second. I've got to head to the office tomorrow. Just letting you know in advance."

Then, with deliberate sweetness, he said, "From now on, I'll report everything to you first, okay, Mrs. Delgado?"

That last line hit Harper like a blade—twice over.

It used to be everything she dreamed of.

Now, it just felt like a cruel joke.

…

The next morning, not long after Ryan left the house, Harper received a message from Olivia. It was an address.

"I want to apologize in person. There's something I need to tell you." Harper didn't care what she had to say. She only wanted to make one thing clear: she was leaving Ryan, for good. They wouldn't be seeing each other again.

Olivia listened quietly, her expression unreadable. "So… you've known all along. What about the baby?"

Harper gently placed a hand over her stomach. For once, a hint of warmth touched her lips.

She had made up her mind. She would cancel the engagement. She would have this child and raise it on her own.

She would never return to this country. The father and child would never meet.

Olivia let out a cold laugh, then clapped her hands together.

From the bedroom, a gang of thuggish men suddenly rushed out.

Harper's heart skipped. Instinct screamed at her to run. But the men quickly surrounded her, leering.

"You wanna leave?" one of them sneered. "Then leave clean. Don't leave Ryan with any reason to come looking for you."

Sweat broke out on Harper's back. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone to call the cops.

But the men ignored her. Instead, they lunged toward Olivia and ripped her dress apart.

She screamed and grabbed a fruit knife from the table, plunging it into her own neck.

Harper froze.

In the chaos, the front door burst open with a crash.

Ryan stormed in.

The moment he saw the blood on Olivia's neck, something in him snapped. His roar echoed through the room as he tore into the thugs with wild, furious punches.

Blood flew. Bone cracked.

Olivia curled into herself, crying, then threw her arms around him from behind. "Take me away from here… please… I feel so dirty…"

Ryan quickly shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her trembling frame.

Then he turned—his eyes bloodshot, burning with rage.

His voice was low and deadly. "You're the dirty one."

He stared at Harper like he didn't recognize her. "I never thought you'd be this vicious. Saying you didn't care, pretending to be calm… and all the while, planning this behind my back?"

Harper shook her head numbly. "No… it was her. It was—"

But she stopped. In that moment, she understood.

Olivia had played her. Step by step, forcing her back until she looked like the villain. Even if she screamed the truth now, no one would believe her.

Behind Ryan, Olivia smirked—just barely. A quiet, triumphant curve of the lips. Then she feigned shock and collapsed into his arms.

Panic took over him. Without another glance at Harper, he scooped Olivia up and ran out the door.

Harper tried to follow. But the thugs grabbed her—one by the hand, another by the waist.

"Going somewhere, Miss Sullivan? You still haven't paid us."

Ryan stopped in the doorway.

He looked back.

That gaze—it cut like ice, burned like fire. Cold. Furious.

Then he kicked the door shut.

Locked her in.

Left her to them.

Harper's fear spiked. She grabbed the knife that had fallen to the floor, holding it against herself in desperation.

The men just laughed.

"You think you're some princess like Olivia? Lady, we're not going easy on you."

One of them grabbed her ankle and yanked. She hit the floor hard.

Her belly slammed into the corner of the coffee table.

Pain exploded, hot and sharp, tearing through her.

She tried to push herself up, and found that her hands were slick with something warm.

Blood.

Her voice cracked. "My baby…"