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...

Aside from that one night in the hotel, Elena Vance had never been this close to a man before. As she stood in the dim light of the bedroom, she couldn't help but blush. With trembling fingers, she unbuttoned Cillian Thorne's shirt, helping him ease it off his shoulders.

​As the fabric fell away, Elena was stunned. Cillian's upper body was perfectly sculpted broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and beautifully defined muscles. Wasn't he supposed to be disabled? she wondered. How could a man who doesn't walk stay in such incredible shape?

​As she reached to clear the last sleeve, her gaze caught a glimpse of a dark blue tattoo on his shoulder blade. The intricate design looked hauntingly familiar, but before she could place it, Cillian turned. Seeing her staring at his bare skin, and caught by the sweet, milky fragrance she emitted, a primal impulse surged through him.

​Cillian's eyes darkened. He abruptly lunged forward, pulling her body flush against his and kissing her deeply.

​The taste of her lips and the scent of her breath were a perfect match for his memories. Elena was taken aback, her heart hammering against her ribs. Realizing what was happening, she desperately tried to push him away, but Cillian was far stronger. He held her shoulders, his breathing growing heavy and domineering.

​"Cillian... what are you doing...?" Elena's plea was broken as he forced her into a deeper embrace. His hand slid beneath her shirt, touching the smooth, slender skin of her waist. So smooth... just like that night...

​Elena felt her top being pulled up, and in a moment of pure desperation, she bit his tongue!

​The sharp pain snapped Cillian back to reality. He pulled away, the haze of lust replaced by a flash of regret. This was Elena Vance the "promiscuous substitute" not the innocent girl he had been searching for. Disgust at his own lack of control flared, and he instinctively shoved her away.

​"Thump!"

​Cillian hadn't moderated his strength. Elena hit the floor with a violent crash. Almost immediately, a sharp, stabbing pain radiated through her lower abdomen. She looked at Cillian in shock, her face turning the color of paper. Then, she felt it a warm, terrifying trickle flowing from her body.

​My baby... please, not the baby...

​"Call a doctor," Elena gasped, crawling toward his feet and clutching his pant leg. "Please... I'm in pain..."

​Cillian looked down and froze. A pool of bright red was spreading across the carpet. Elena's eyes rolled back as she lost consciousness.

​A strange, sharp pang struck Cillian's heart. Without thinking, he stood up from his wheelchair his legs perfectly stable and scooped her into his arms. He didn't care that the blood was staining his expensive clothes.

​Just as he kicked open the bedroom door, Philip Woods was standing there, hand raised to knock. Philip's jaw dropped at the sight of Cillian standing.

​"Get the car ready!" Cillian barked, his expression terrifyingly cold. "If anything happens to her, we lose the password!"

​Philip stammered, "Yes, sir! But... sir, we've found the woman from that night!"

​Cillian stopped dead. "What? Where?"

​"She's downstairs, sir. She's waiting for you."

​Cillian's expression shifted. He looked at the bleeding, unconscious Elena in his arms, then abruptly placed her back into his wheelchair. "You take her to the hospital!"

​Without a backward glance, Cillian turned and headed toward the stairs.

​The Imposter Arrives

​In the living room, Cillian sat back in his wheelchair, hiding his mobility once more. He looked at the woman sitting across from him. She was beautiful, with delicate features and carefully applied makeup, but something felt... off.

​"Mr. Thorne," the woman said, her voice shy and cautious. "That night... I left a lucky charm bracelet at the hotel. I was hoping you might have found it?"

​Cillian's heart hammered. "That night... it was you?"

​The woman Daphne Vance nodded slowly. She reached up, untying the strap of her silk dress and turning her back to him.

​The next moment, under the soft glow of the chandelier, a lifelike ghost orchid birthmark appeared on her skin.