"Wait, don't administer the anesthesia yet!" The ultrasound technician suddenly spoke, her expression grave. Every head in the operating room turned. "There seems to be something in her uterus."

​The head surgeon and the anesthesiologist exchanged a tense look. The syringe was immediately withdrawn. After checking the monitor, the surgeon confirmed, "There is indeed a small shadow!"

​Elena Vance was in tears, her heart racing with a mix of terror and a sliver of hope. She nodded frantically, her eyes pleading. Because of the years spent as a human blood bank for her sister, her body was fragile and irregular. If they cut into her now, she knew she wouldn't survive the table.

​The head surgeon walked over to Cillian Thorne. "Mr. Thorne, there is an unknown shadow in this young lady's uterus. If we force the surgery, it will involve other blood vessels. It would be extremely dangerous."

​"So?" Cillian asked, his fingers tapping slowly on the armrest of his wheelchair. The sound was rhythmic and intimidating. "If we do the surgery, will she die?"

​The surgeon hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."

​Cillian's powerful aura turned glacial. He glanced at the trembling Elena with utter indifference. "Continue the surgery. If she can't make it through, she can only blame her bad luck."

​Elena shivered. His voice was a death sentence. The rumors were true: Cillian Thorne was a demon who viewed human life as a mere statistic. She was being sacrificed for a sister who didn't love her, to a man who wanted her dead.

​"Mr. Thorne, are you sure?" the surgeon asked, his voice shaking. "What if someone dies..."

​"Our family can afford the life of one woman," Cillian replied. "Daring to marry into the Thorne family while carrying a bastard child? She should have been prepared for the consequences."

​The Reprieve

​Knock, knock, knock!

​The door flew open. Philip Woods shouted from the hallway, "Young Master Cillian, Madam is here! She is right outside and demands to see you."

​Cillian frowned. Why was his mother here? He gestured to the doctors. "Hold the surgery for a moment."

​Outside in the hallway, his mother's face was stern. "Cillian, Elena Vance cannot die yet. Don't be impulsive."

​"She's pregnant with a bastard, Mother. Are you aware of that?"

​"Even so, we need her alive," she hissed. "The Vance family gave us the item, but we can't unlock it without them. That chip has a password, and Jason Vance is holding back. He's afraid you'll take the technology and abandon his daughter."

​She sighed, her eyes cold. "He said that in three months, if you and Elena are 'on good terms,' he will provide the password. Just bear with her for now. Treat her like a toy, a dog the Thorne family can afford to feed one more mouth. Once we have the code, you can kick her out."

​The New Nightmare

​Inside the operating room, Elena was suddenly untied. Instead of being operated on, she was hauled back to the Thorne estate. Servants scrubbed her body, dressed her in revealing, provocative clothes, and applied heavy makeup. Still dazed from the small dose of anesthetic, Elena felt like a doll being prepped for a shelf.

​She was soon stuffed into the back of Cillian's luxury limousine. The space felt cramped under the weight of his presence. He sat with his eyes closed, seemingly napping.

​"Elena Vance, what are you and your father plotting?" Cillian's eyes snapped open, meeting hers with aggressive intensity.

​"W-what?" Elena stammered. As she moved, the sweet fragrance of her skin filled the car. It was that same scent-the one from the night Cillian had been drugged. His irritation flared. How could a "shameless" woman like Elena have the same scent as the innocent girl he was looking for?

​He leaned closer, trapping her against the car window. Elena instinctively closed her eyes, her breath hitching. For a second, his aura reminded her of the man from the hotel strong, overwhelming, and possessive.

​If Cillian was the father... she thought, then immediately dismissed it. The man from that night had been athletic and powerful. How could it be Cillian, whose legs were paralyzed?

​Cillian saw her closed eyes and mocked her. "You don't actually think I'm going to kiss you, do you?"

​Elena opened her eyes, blushing with shame. Cillian's tone suddenly turned hauntingly gentle, though his eyes remained like knives.

​"Today is our wedding day, a joyous occasion. As your husband, I feel I should fulfill your wish."

​Elena's heart sank to her stomach. Fulfill her wish? What kind of twisted "celebration" did a demon like Cillian Thorne have in mind?

The car pulled up in front of "Nightfall," the most notorious money pit in the capital. Here, only the elite and the depraved could afford to play.

​"Where is she?" Cillian Thorne asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Sir, they are in Room 666 on the third floor," Philip Woods replied, adjusting his glasses nervously.

"Take her up," Cillian ordered.

​Two bodyguards seized Elena Vance and hauled her to the third floor. When the doors to the suite swung open, a thick, nauseating cloud of cigar smoke and expensive liquor hit her. In her early pregnancy, Elena's stomach churned violently. She fought the urge to vomit, only to be shoved forward straight into the arms of a repulsive old man.

​"Mr. Griffin, I've brought you a new plaything," Cillian said softly, leaning back in his wheelchair. "Why don't you take her to the back room for some fun?"

​Elena froze, staring at Cillian in pure horror. Was he insane? The man holding her, Mr. Griffin, was a balding, pot-bellied predator with yellowed teeth and greasy hands. He had been ready to strike Elena for bumping into him, but seeing her beauty, a lecherous grin spread across his face.

​"Mr. Thorne, such generosity?" Griffin chuckled.

"Indeed," Cillian smirked. "I'm sure you haven't played with a woman like this before."

​Griffin didn't need to be told twice. He dragged a struggling Elena toward the resting quarters and slammed the door, locking it. Cillian sat in the main room, listening. But as the muffled sounds of a struggle began, he felt a sharp, inexplicable irritation. Was it that familiar sweet scent again? He took a drink, trying to drown out the strange tightening in his chest.

​The Great Escape

​Bang!

"AAAHHH!"

​A piercing scream erupted from the back room. Cillian's eyes snapped toward the door. "Philip, go see what's happening. Don't let them kill her."

​The bodyguards kicked the door down and rushed in. Moments later, Philip returned, looking pale. "Mr. Thorne... she's gone. The madam escaped!"

​Cillian propelled his wheelchair forward into the room. The window was wide open. They were on the third floor, and she was pregnant yet she had jumped. A flicker of reluctant admiration crossed his cold face.

​On the bed, Mr. Griffin was curled in a fetal position, clutching his crotch and howling in agony. "Cillian Thorne! You set me up! You did this on purpose!"

​Cillian's expression shifted to one of mock pity. "Mr. Griffin, that woman is my nephew Jackson Reed's lover. She's carrying his child. You dared to touch her? I'm afraid I can't protect you from his wrath."

​Griffin's face turned purple. "What?"

​"I wanted to mediate our land dispute," Cillian shrugged, "but you couldn't restrain yourself. Philip, did we record the 'assault'?"

"Every second of it, sir."

"Good. See you in court tomorrow, Mr. Griffin."

​The Trap is Set

​As they left the club, Philip whispered, "Sir, should I send the men to find her? In her condition, she won't get far."

​"No need," Cillian said, his voice like dry ice. "She helped me secure that land in Hexi. Consider this her night of freedom. However... I expect her to crawl back to me and beg for forgiveness by dawn."

​Meanwhile, Elena was hiding behind a dumpster, trembling. Once Cillian's car disappeared, she hailed a taxi with the last of her pocket change, eventually switching to the subway to save money. She spent the night huddled under a bridge. a survival skill she had perfected over the last month.

​At dawn, she sold some scrap cardboard for a few coins and headed to a phone booth near the train station. She needed to reach her uncle and flee to the countryside to find her grandmother.

​When her uncle answered, his voice was uncharacteristically joyful. "Elena! Where are you? Why haven't you come to see us at the hospital?"

​Elena's heart skipped a beat. "Uncle... what are you talking about?"

​"Don't be modest! We know you're married to that powerful Mr. Thorne. If he hadn't brought the whole family including your grandmother to the capital for medical treatment, we would have missed the news! He's been so generous to us!"

​Elena's pupils constricted. A violent shiver ran through her soul. Cillian hadn't just captured her; he had taken her entire family hostage.

"Elena, didn't you know?" her uncle said over the phone. "We're all at the hospital Mr. Thorne arranged. He said he'll schedule Grandma's surgery in a few days."

​The revelation hit Elena Vance like a physical blow. Cillian Thorne, that beast! He wasn't just chasing her; he had systematically gathered her family as hostages. No wonder he hadn't sent guards after her last night he knew she had nowhere to run.

​Her uncle had lost an arm saving her years ago, and her grandmother was deathly ill. Elena sat on the floor of the phone booth, sobbing until she gagged. But finally, the tears stopped. Her eyes turned cold and empty. She stood up, wiped her face, and began the long walk toward the Thorne estate on Mount Mid.

​Walk of Penance

​By dusk, Elena reached the foot of the mountain, swaying from exhaustion and the scorching sun. A black luxury car pulled up beside her. Inside, she heard Philip Woods speak.

​"Mr. Thorne, it's Mrs. Vance. Should we take her up?"

"Back now? Too late," Cillian's voice was like ice. "The Thorne Family's doors aren't open for her to enter and leave as she pleases."

​The car sped past, leaving her in the dust. Elena fainted, only to be woken by a sudden, freezing autumn rain. Philip Woods stood over her with an umbrella.

​"Mr. Thorne said that if you kowtow every three steps from here to the manor and arrive before dawn, he will allow you to enter."

​Elena's face paled. "Is he crazy? The baby... I'll lose the child!"

"Mr. Thorne says that if the baby is lost, it saves the cost of a hospital abortion," Philip replied blankly.

​Elena gritted her teeth. "Fine. I'll do it."

​Step by step, she knelt and pressed her forehead to the wet asphalt. By the time she reached the gates, the road was streaked with her blood, washed away by the torrential rain. She collapsed at the entrance, a silent vow of revenge burning in her heart.

​The Morning After

​Cillian watched the courtyard from his balcony, turning the pages of a book.

"She collapsed, sir," Philip reported.

"Is she dead?"

"Not yet."

"Then throw her in the yard. If she survives the night, let her in. Don't let her die outside and become a laughingstock."

​The next morning, Elena woke up under the eaves, shivering but alive. After a quick shower and bandaging her own wounds, she was summoned to Cillian's bedroom. He sat in his wheelchair, looking every bit the tyrannical emperor.

​"Do you know why I'm keeping you around?" Cillian asked, his eyes scrutinizing her pale, stubborn face.

​"I suppose I'm still useful," Elena whispered. "What can my worthless life do for you, Mr. Thorne? I won't resist anymore, as long as you spare my family."

​The True Objective: The Codes

​Cillian's eyes flashed with a hint of appreciation. She was smart.

"Help me get something, and I'll release you and your relatives. There is a set of encryption codes hidden within the chip you brought as a dowry. Your father, Jason Vance, is the only one who knows how to unlock it. Get those codes from him, and you're free."

​Elena hesitated, then nodded. "Deal."

​"Now," Cillian commanded, extending his arms slightly. "Go to the closet. Get me a shirt and change me."

​Elena didn't dare refuse. She walked into the closet, fetched a crisp shirt, and leaned in close. With trembling, slender fingers, she began to unbutton his shirt, one button at a time...