Evelyn POV:

Belen' s face contorted in a mask of impotent rage, but I simply turned away, already done with her dramatics. She could shriek all she wanted. Her words held no power over me anymore.

My father sighed again, clearly eager to be rid of the whole mess. "Just make sure the wedding is discreet, Evelyn. We don' t need any more scandals."

I nodded, already planning. No lavish affair, no grand pronouncements. Just a quiet ceremony, a new beginning. My new life wouldn' t be built on superficial displays. It would be built on solid ground, brick by brick.

The Salinas family might be struggling, but they had a solid foundation. An ancient lineage, rich in history, though perhaps lacking in immediate funds. I would need to be resourceful. I always had been.

I spent the next few days preparing, not for a grand wedding, but for a new life. I packed my essentials, retrieved some personal savings I had secretly squirreled away over the years. I wouldn't be a burden to Ingram. I would be a partner.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. I opened the door to find Ingram Salinas standing there.

My breath caught.

He was taller than I remembered, his frame lean and elegantly built. His hair, dark as midnight, fell over eyes that were an unusual shade of amber, flecked with gold. They held a quiet intensity, a depth that hinted at hidden intelligence and unspoken emotions. His face was sharp, aristocratic, yet softened by a subtle hint of vulnerability around his mouth. He wasn't conventionally "handsome" like Dedric, who possessed a flashy, almost theatrical charm. Ingram's beauty was understated, profound, something you had to look closely to appreciate.

In his hands, he held a small, intricately carved wooden box. It wasn't ornate or flashy, but the craftsmanship was exquisite, the wood glowing with an inner warmth.

"Good evening, Evelyn," he said, his voice a low rumble, surprisingly warm. "I brought you something for our ceremony. A family tradition."

He offered the box. I took it, my fingers brushing his. His skin was cool, smooth.

Inside, nestled on a bed of dark velvet, was a silver hair comb. It was delicate, fashioned into the shape of a blooming moonpetal-a flower unique to the Salinas ancestral lands, said to only open under the rarest lunar cycles. Each petal was inlaid with tiny, iridescent scales, shimmering with an otherworldly glow. It was beautiful. More beautiful than any diamond tiara Dedric had ever promised me. It felt ancient, sacred, infused with meaning.

"This is..." I started, genuinely touched. "It's exquisite, Ingram."

He looked at me, a faint flush rising on his cheeks. He wasn't used to praise. "It belonged to my mother," he said, his gaze distant for a moment. "And her mother before her. It represents loyalty and enduring connection."

He seemed so different from the cold, aloof man society perceived him to be. So thoughtful. So kind.

"If you don't like it, we can find something else," he added, his eyes searching mine, as if afraid he had offended me.

"No, it's perfect," I assured him, my voice soft. "More than perfect. Thank you, Ingram."

A small, genuine smile touched his lips, transforming his usually serious face. It was like watching a rare flower bloom.

Just then, Belen's voice, startlingly loud and saccharine, sliced through the quiet moment.

"Evelyn, darling! Look who's here!"

She swept into the room, arm-in-arm with Dedric. Her left hand was conspicuously placed on her still-flat abdomen, a gesture that was both premature and deeply obnoxious. Dedric, meanwhile, wore a self-satisfied smirk, his eyes sweeping over me, then lingering on Ingram with a look of barely concealed disdain.

"Dedric and I just wanted to wish you luck," Belen chirped, her eyes darting to the hair comb still in my hand. Her lip curled slightly. "Though I'm sure you'll manage. We, on the other hand, are already planning for a much more... significant future."

Dedric's gaze was fixed on Belen, a possessive, almost predatory gleam in his eyes. He saw her as the vessel for his legacy, the fertile ground for his ambition. His look was one of utter devotion, the kind I had once foolishly yearned for. But I knew it was hollow. It was devotion to a means, not to a person.

He desired the idea of the heir, not the woman carrying it. Belen, blinded by her own victory, saw only the adoration. She was willingly walking into a cage, believing it was a gilded throne.

I saw Ingram subtly stiffen beside me, his hand unconsciously clenching at his side. His amber eyes, usually so calm, now held a flicker of protective anger.

He stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on my lower back, a silent gesture of solidarity.

"Evelyn will have everything she deserves," Ingram stated, his low voice cutting through Belen's smug pronouncements. His gaze, usually so passive, was now firm, meeting Dedric's without flinching. "And unlike some, I will value her, not just for what she can give me, but for who she is. Our future will be built on respect, loyalty, and true affection. Not on titles or bloodlines."

Evelyn POV:

"Oh, spare me the romantic drivel, Salinas!" Belen sneered, her carefully constructed poise shattering. "You talk about 'true affection' while Dedric and I are building a real future. A future with the first heir to the consortium!"

Her hand moved from her abdomen to Dedric's arm, clutching it tightly, as if to prove her claim. Her obsession with having a child, with producing the heir, was palpable. In my past life, she had struggled with infertility, a secret shame that fueled her bitterness. This time, she was clearly desperate to prove her worth, to secure her place. She had even moved in with Dedric immediately after I "gave" him to her, rushing headlong into a future built on a lie.

Dedric's eyes, calculating as ever, lingered on Belen's abdomen. He didn't care about love. He cared about legacy, about securing his position as the next Chairman. Belen was merely the most convenient, and seemingly most fertile, path to that goal. They were two ambitious, self-serving individuals, perfectly matched in their transactional desires.

"And what a future that will be," I finally said, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on my lips. "One built on a very shaky foundation, wouldn't you agree, Dedric?"

Dedric's smirk vanished. Belen's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion in them. They both knew the truth of their hurried alliance, but neither dared to voice it. My words were a subtle jab, a reminder of the instability lurking beneath their facade.

I turned and walked away, Ingram's comforting presence a silent anchor beside me. We left Belen fuming, Dedric's face a mask of annoyance.

"She always has to have the last word," I heard Belen hiss behind us, her voice vibrating with frustrated fury. "But it won't matter. Soon, Dedric and I will have children, and then everyone will see."

I didn't dignify it with a response. Belen was so focused on external validation, on superficial triumphs. She couldn't see the deeper currents, the real power at play. She thought I had given up Dedric because I was defeated. She couldn't fathom that I had simply chosen a different path, a path not paved with power or status, but with authenticity. True strength, I had learned, was not in what you accumulated, but in who you were.

Later that evening, after a simple, intimate ceremony where Ingram and I exchanged quiet vows, I found myself in our new home, a modest but elegant house nestled on the outskirts of the Salinas ancestral lands.

Ingram was in the adjoining room, preparing for bed. I watched him through the open doorway as he shed his clothes, a quiet curiosity stirring within me. His back was to me, and I saw the subtle ripple of muscles beneath his skin. Then he turned, and I froze.

Across his chest, curving up from his navel, were faint, intricate patterns, like swirling constellations etched into his skin. They shimmered with a faint, almost imperceptible, golden light. Not a tattoo, but something organic, inherent. They were the markings of his "half-beast" lineage, the subtle, magical traits that set his family apart. And they were beautiful. More than beautiful. They were mesmerizing.

I must have gasped, a small, involuntary sound. Ingram flinched, his amber eyes wide with alarm. He quickly wrapped a blanket around himself, his face flushing.

"Evelyn?" he asked, his voice low, tinged with a raw vulnerability. "Are you... are you alright? I understand if this is... too much."

He thought I was repulsed. He was used to being seen as an oddity, his lineage a reason for scorn, not wonder.

"No!" I rushed to him, reaching out to touch his arm. "Ingram, no. It's not too much. It's... beautiful. Truly."

He looked at me, his eyes searching mine, trying to find any hint of deceit. When he found none, a wave of relief washed over him.

"I just... I've never seen anything like it," I admitted, my voice a little breathless. "It's magnificent."

His lips curved into a shy, hesitant smile, a blush deepening on his cheeks. He still looked slightly uncomfortable, but there was a new light in his eyes.

I stepped closer, emboldened. My hand reached out, tracing the faint, shimmering patterns on his chest. His skin was warm beneath my touch, radiating a subtle energy. He trembled slightly, but didn't pull away.

His hands, hesitant at first, found my waist, pulling me gently against him. His breath hitched as his lips met mine, tentatively at first, then with a slow, building intensity. There was no pretense in his kiss, no calculation, just a raw, honest desire that ignited something deep within me.

This was so different from Dedric's kisses, which were always about possession, about asserting dominance. Ingram's kiss was an invitation, a surrender.

The night was long, filled with a passion I had never known. Ingram was attentive, gentle, yet fiercely hungry. He explored my body with a reverence and curiosity that brought me to life in ways Dedric never could. Dedric had seen my body as a tool. Ingram saw it as a temple.

He was seemingly tireless, his gentle persistence a stark contrast to Dedric's often perfunctory, obligation-driven encounters.

"Ingram," I gasped at one point, laughing softly as he kissed my neck, "Please, I'm going to expire."

He pulled back, his eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. "Only if you want me to stop," he whispered, his voice husky.

I just shook my head, pulling him closer. This was a new kind of happiness. One I hadn't dared to dream of.

Evelyn POV:

The news spread like wildfire through the consortium' s elite circles, barely three months after Belen and Dedric' s hurried marriage. Belen was pregnant.

Three months. That was impossibly fast, even for human gestation. For a pure-blood like Dedric, it usually took longer. My stomach churned with a strange mix of suspicion and morbid curiosity.

I saw her myself at a public luncheon hosted by the Morgan family. There was no denying it. Belen' s belly was already noticeably rounded, far too much for a mere three months. She glowed with a triumphant, arrogant pride.

The Morgan family, despite the recent scandal with Dedric almost losing his engagement to me, was now in full celebration. Dedric, puffed up with self-importance, beamed at everyone, accepting congratulations as if he had personally orchestrated a miracle. This child, he clearly believed, was his ticket to reclaiming his family's prestige and securing his bid for Chairman.

The guests, a flock of social vultures, cooed and fawned over Belen, offering sycophantic praise. Everyone assumed this child would be the definitive "first heir," the future leader. No one even considered the possibility of an alternative. The path to power seemed clear for Dedric.

Ingram and I were seated at a table near the back, a deliberate choice on my part to avoid the spotlight. But fate, or perhaps Belen's innate need for an audience, intervened. She spotted me.

Her eyes, gleaming with malice, found mine across the crowded room. She sauntered over, Dedric in tow, her hand protectively cradling her belly.

"Evelyn, darling," she purred, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. "Fancy meeting you here. I hope you're not too... lonely, back here in the shadows." Her gaze flickered pointedly to my flat stomach. "Some of us are just built to carry on the legacy, aren't we?"

She knew my history, my past struggles with conception, a cruel irony given the painful lengths I' d gone to in my last life for Dedric' s sake. She thought she was hitting a raw nerve.

But I knew something she didn't. Half-beast offspring, if conceived with certain human bloodlines, could develop at an accelerated rate. It explained her rapid pregnancy, but it also hinted at things far more complex, and far more dangerous.

It also meant a much more difficult birth. I remembered the agony of my own childbirth in my past life, prolonged and brutal, endured alone while Dedric was off securing his political alliances. Belen, in her ignorance, thought she was simply fast-tracking her success. She had no idea of the true cost.

I looked at Belen' s swollen belly, a deep sense of pity, not for her, but for the innocent life she was so carelessly using as a weapon. My own children in my past life, innocent pawns in a cruel game. My love for them had been pure, unconditional, never transactional. Belen could never understand that.

"Congratulations, Belen," I said, my voice calm, betraying none of the turmoil within me. "Such... rapid progress. It truly is remarkable."

My words were innocuous enough, but the subtle emphasis on "rapid" and "remarkable" seemed to hit a nerve. Belen's confident facade wavered. Her eyes flickered away, a tell-tale sign of unease.

"Well, some of us are just naturally... efficient," she stammered, recovering quickly, though her voice was a little too high-pitched. She was trying to appear nonchalant, but I could see the sweat beading on her forehead.

"Indeed," I murmured, taking a sip of my wine. "I do hope everything goes smoothly, Belen. Certain... expedited processes can sometimes lead to unforeseen complications, wouldn't you agree?"

Her eyes widened, a flash of genuine fear in them. She tried to laugh it off, but the sound was forced, unnatural. She wasn't used to anyone questioning her reality, especially not me. She expected me to wilt, not to subtly prod at her insecurities.

She looked at Dedric, a desperate plea in her eyes. Dedric, however, was already turning his attention back to the more important guests, leaving Belen to flounder. She was losing her grip, her composure slipping away.

I set my glass down. "Well, I wish you all the best, Belen. May you have exactly what you deserve."

I rose from the table, Ingram rising with me, his hand once again resting protectively on my back. We walked away, leaving Belen standing there, her face a mixture of triumph, fear, and a dawning uncertainty.