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…"

Harper let out a broken, wrenching cry—the kind that made even the gangsters freeze for a split second.

But only for a second.

Their hesitation was quickly drowned out by another wave of excited, ugly laughter.

"Damn, I've never had a pregnant woman before. Wonder if it feels even better?"

They ignored her agony completely, forcing her limbs apart and stuffing a piece of clothing into her mouth to muffle the screams.

When those disgusting hands finally touched her skin, Harper wept silently, eyes wide and filled with hopelessness. Her strength had long left her. Despair took its place.

The leader, a blond-haired thug, hurriedly fumbled with his belt, eager to climb on top of her.

Then the door slammed open.

A strange man stepped through with the cold, cutting presence of a storm. In one swift, brutal motion, he kicked the blond man several feet across the room.

Behind him, his bodyguards moved like shadows, swiftly and efficiently subduing the rest.

Harper's heart, which had just plummeted into darkness, surged upward too fast—and the world went black.

When she came to, she found herself in a hospital room.

The man who had saved her was sitting nearby. His presence was overwhelming, his features so sharply handsome it hurt to look at him. Cold. Distant. Icy to the core.

She tried to sit up, only for his hand to press her gently, but firmly, back down.

"You had a miscarriage. Don't move."

"Thank you… May I ask who you are?"

His lips parted slightly.

"Christopher Dawson."

Her shoulders trembled.

It turned out, her to-be-fiancé had saved her.

And he'd seen everything.

She struggled to find her voice. "I'll talk to my father… to call off the engagement."

Christopher didn't even raise an eyebrow.

"Why?"

The question caught her off guard. She blinked in confusion before answering, "You saw it. I've been secretly dating Ryan. I got pregnant. And now… the miscarriage…"

He let out a cold "Mm." Then added, "I already looked into everything. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten there in time. I don't care about your past."

And then, seeing the bewilderment in her eyes, he said simply, "It was all Ryan's fault."

Tears began to slide silently onto the pristine white sheets.

At first, she cried quietly. Then, as if something finally gave way inside her, the sobs came out in full force. Loud, unrestrained. Like she was trying to expel every ounce of pain and humiliation she'd bottled up for far too long.

A large hand landed gently on her back, stiff at first, but slowly moving in awkward comfort.

She sat up and wiped her face.

Her voice was calm now, eyes clear. "I'm leaving the country in two days. I'll end everything before then."

Once she'd made her decision, she dialed a number.

"Ryan, I think we shou—"

He cut her off. With a long sigh, his voice sounded magnanimous, like he was forgiving a child who'd made a mistake.

"I thought it over. You were emotional and insecure because of the pregnancy. That's why you did what you did. I apologized to Olivia at the hospital. I smoothed things over so she wouldn't press charges."

Harper stayed quiet.

So in the end, he still chose to believe Olivia's lies. He believed that the woman he'd shared a bed with for three years was some kind of heartless schemer.

"It's my birthday tomorrow. You can finally show up. Start integrating into my circle. But you'll need to apologize to Olivia in front of everyone. Thank her for being so gracious and forgiving. If not, you'd already be in jail."

For the past three years, Harper had never once attended his birthday party. She had stayed home, making hangover soup and waiting for him to stumble back drunk.

She didn't need to do that anymore.

Her eyes lowered, and her smile was so bitter it twisted at the corners. Pity he couldn't see it.

"Alright. I'll give you a big gift tomorrow."

Satisfied with her obedience, Ryan smiled and arrived early at the hotel the next day.

But the minutes ticked by. Harper never showed. She didn't pick up his calls, nor did she reply to his messages.

A strange unease began to claw at his chest.

Just then, his friends surrounded Olivia and led her in.

She was dressed to perfection, her already striking features even more dazzling than usual. Men's eyes followed her like moths to a flame.

He used to hate it when other men stared at her. But now, all he could do was check his phone again, and again.

"Ryan, we heard you're dating some mystery woman now?" a friend called out.

He blinked, dragged back to the moment. A faint smile touched his lips. "That's right. Actually, you all know her…"

Before he could finish, someone pushed Olivia into his arms.

"We all know it's Olivia! Come on, you've been into her since college!"

"She left for overseas back then. Otherwise, you'd probably have two kids by now!"

Olivia blushed prettily, not denying anything.

But Ryan's smile slowly vanished. He gently pulled his arm from her grasp.

"I'm talking about Harper."

He didn't know what made him say it—it burst out before he could stop it.

Strangely, though, instead of regret, he felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest.

The room fell silent for a beat.

Then came the whispers.

"Isn't Harper Gabe Sullivan's daughter? Ryan's dad's business rival?"

The louder the questions got, the more irritable Ryan became.

"It's true," he said. "She's pregnant with my child. We're making it official. Meeting the parents soon."

The guests broke into laughter.

"You're funny, man!"

"If she's your girlfriend, where is she? Why isn't she here?"

At that moment, the door opened.

A figure rushed in.

Every pair of eyes turned toward her.

The cleaning lady nearly tripped under the scrutiny but forced herself forward, stopping in front of Ryan.

"This… This is from Miss Harper. She said it's your birthday gift."

His tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed. He eagerly tore open the envelope.

Inside was a miscarriage report.

Back at the airport, Harper stood still, phone in hand.

Christopher glanced over. "That SIM card won't work overseas. Toss it."

Her hand loosened. The phone slid soundlessly into the trash.

"…Alright," she said softly. "Let's board."