Late at night.
In a dark, damp alley, the cold wind cut to the bone. Water froze as it dripped. Vera Warner wore only a thin nightdress, her large belly stretching the fabric, swaying back and forth with her hurried, desperate steps.
"Quick! She's over here!" Chaotic footsteps sounded at the entrance to the alley.
Vera's heart clenched. Her steps became even more frantic and unsteady.
A stabbing pain radiated from her stomach, but Vera had no time to care. Her face was deathly pale as she clutched her belly and ran for her life.
But rounding the next corner, she abruptly stopped, utterly hopeless.
A dead end.
The people behind had caught up, a few burly men in black forming a tight circle around her.
Vera, terrified, pressed her back to the wall, her voice trembling: "You… don't come any closer!"
"Hahaha, sister, why are you running?"
A woman's playful laughter sounded from behind. The men in black made way, and a lavishly dressed, exquisitely made-up woman strolled closer.
"Luna! So it really is you!" Vera's eyes blazed with hatred, her teeth clenched as she spat out the words.
Eight months ago, she'd been knocked out in her own home, forced into bed with a stranger, and then inexplicably imprisoned for eight long months!
It was only yesterday, by accident, she overheard her caretakers say—the people watching her wanted the child in her belly!
"What the hell do you want?!"
Vera stared daggers at Luna—her half-sister, sweet and fragile on the outside, but vicious to the core.
She'd already been driven out of the family by her father and his people, but she never expected Luna would still refuse to let her go!
"Sister, if you behave and give birth to the baby, maybe I'll let you stay in one piece." Luna admired her manicured nails, grinning with sick satisfaction.
Vera's blood ran cold. From the murderous gleam in Luna's eyes, she knew she genuinely wanted to kill her!
"No way! I won't let anyone hurt my child!"
Vera gritted her teeth, hugged her belly, and dashed forward without another thought.
But in the next instant, Luna sneered savagely and shoved her hard!
Vera crashed heavily to the ground. A sharp pain shot through her belly, and she felt liquid rushing between her legs. Terror surged through her—her face turned as pale as a sheet of paper!
"The pain… the baby…"
Feeling something precious slipping away inside her, Vera's hatred twisted and grew wild like vines. Red-eyed, she glared furiously at Luna, her voice hoarse and broken: "Luna Warner, you'll die a wretched death!"
"Heh, and still mouthing off at death's door." Luna mocked her with utter contempt.
"Miss Warner, what now?" one of the men in black asked quietly.
Luna shot him a cold glare, voice icy: "What did you just call me?"
The man bowed his head at once: "Miss Warner!"
"Hmph, remember this—the Warner family will have only one heiress, and that's me!" Luna's gaze slid murderously over Vera, writhing in pain as she clutched her belly. "No more waiting—cut the child out now!"
One hour later, inside a grimy, dimly lit clinic, Vera, numbed by anesthesia, lay in the operating room, face as white as a ghost, completely unconscious.
"Waa—"
With a crisp, clear newborn cry, a masked nurse bundled up two tiny babies and hurried out of the delivery room.
Luna waited right outside. The nurse rushed over, handed her the baby boy, and smiled broadly. "Congratulations, Miss Warner, you have a baby son."
"Heh, that bitch is luckier than I thought—she really gave birth to a boy!" Luna accepted the baby, letting her sharp nails rake across his tender cheek.
The stinging pain made the little boy wail louder. Luna scowled and dumped him carelessly on a nearby chair. "Just like his mother—doesn't know what's good for him!"
The nurse heard the jealousy and venom in her tone; her eyelids twitched. "Miss Warner, you promised…"
"Don't worry. With this kid, I'll be the most respected woman in Aethelgard. Whatever you want, I can give," Luna said with a look of perverse delight, self-satisfaction all over her face.
"Yes, yes… But what about the other one?"
"Boy or girl?"
"A girl."
"Then she's no use." A flash of malice darted through Luna's eyes. She looked around the filthy, rundown clinic and waved her hand nonchalantly: "This clinic is an eyesore. Burn it."
"This… yes, Miss!"
A sports car blazed down the road and disappeared in seconds.
Mere moments later, a raging fire erupted inside the clinic.
Fire trucks wailed nearer and nearer, but by the time they arrived, the place was reduced to ashes.
...
Five years later, at the Morgan family in Aethelgard.
In the vast mansion, the atmosphere was so tense it was as if even the air had frozen stiff.
Several computers ran at once, screens flashing with complicated images racing by, until only a little red dot remained, moving fast.
"President Morgan, we've found the young master! He's on West River Mountain Road!" The bodyguard spotted the location and shouted with excitement.
Sitting on the sofa was a man of stunning looks—so handsome he seemed unreal. His features were sharp as if sculpted by an artist; deep, dark eyes, a high nose bridge, everything perfectly crafted.
Yet matching that beauty was a chilling, dangerous aura. His lips pressed flat, and his dark, inky eyes glinted with cold menace that made others avert their gaze.
At the bodyguard's words, the man's icy stare fell on the screen. He stood up, tall and commanding, radiating an unapproachable presence. His voice was cold enough to freeze: "Pursue!"
On the mountain road, a blazing red Ferrari was chasing down a van at breakneck speed. The chase was wild and tense, the two vehicles clashing and sparking with life-or-death intensity.
"Mom, seriously? You can't even catch a van?!"
A little girl's mocking voice came through the headset. Vera rolled her eyes. "Chloe Warner, mouth off one more time and I'll have Ghost Slash stop teaching you computers!"
"Hee hee, I don't care—even if he stops, my skills are better than Uncle Ghost Slash's already!"
Vera's lips twitched—she was completely exasperated by her mischievous daughter.
Annoyed by Chloe, Vera vented her irritation on the van ahead—the one that had scratched her car and cursed at her nonstop.
She slammed the accelerator. The Ferrari roared, spun perfectly, and forced the van to a halt.
"Shit, you crazy bitch!" A middle-aged man full of profanity jumped out of the van, face twisted in a vicious scowl as he strode toward the Ferrari.
Vera put on her special glasses. At once, details about the man popped up before her eyes.
"Mom, run! He's an escaped death row convict!" Chloe's voice leapt with sudden tension.
Vera wanted to bolt too, but the man had already yanked open her car door. She felt for the self-defense alarm in her bag but ended up getting out of the car.
"Hey, big guy, let's not make this a thing! How about I pay for your car? Whatever it costs, I'll cover it, okay?"
She raised both hands, grinning innocently, her beautiful, bewitching eyes radiating zero threat.
The man was about to say something when the back window of the van lowered. A rough, urgent male voice called out, "Stop wasting time! Let's go!"
Vera glanced over—and through the slight opening, met the gaze of a little boy with striking, pure, black-and-white eyes.
It was a gorgeous, adorable child, clothes messy, hands and feet bound tight.
When he saw Vera, his eyes lit up, and in a soft, pitiful voice, he called out, "Mommy, help me!"