CHAPTER 1 — The Night They Destroyed Her
The ballroom of the Imperial Gold Hotel shimmered like a dream—warm chandeliers, crystal glasses, soft violin music.
Everywhere she turned, people smiled at her, praised her, congratulated her.
Tonight was her engagement banquet.
The night she was meant to become the future Madam Qin.
But Shi Anran felt uneasy.
Her heart should have been full.
Instead, something twisted uncomfortably in her chest, a whisper she couldn't hear but couldn't ignore.
In the center of the crowd, she stood elegantly in a white silk gown, her long hair curled gently, her every movement refined, gentle, dignified.
"Ranran, you look stunning today."
"Congratulations, Miss Shi!"
"President Qin is truly lucky."
Anran smiled politely at each guest, but the unease only grew.
Where was her fiancé?
Where… was her stepsister?
Her fingers tightened around her champagne glass.
A soft, sweet voice drifted from behind her.
"Jiejie."
Shi Wanqing approached with a smile that looked perfectly innocent—almost too innocent.
Her light pink dress made her appear pure, harmless… angelic.
Anran relaxed slightly. "Wanqing, there you are."
Wanqing's eyes curved sweetly as she held out a glass of red wine.
"You look a little tense, Jiejie. Here—drink this. It will help calm your nerves."
Anran stared at the glass.
Wanqing never did anything just to be kind.
But refusing her in front of guests would create drama.
And Anran didn't want to ruin her own engagement night.
She forced a gentle smile.
"Thank you."
The rim of the glass was cold against her lips.
Wanqing's fingers brushed hers as she took it.
A strange chill ran down Anran's spine.
She hesitated… then drank.
The moment the wine slid down her throat, Wanqing's smile sharpened—so faint, so fleeting, that Anran almost thought she imagined it.
But the next moment—
Her head spun.
Her heartbeat raced.
Heat burst through her chest like wildfire.
Her breath hitched. "Wanqing… w-what was in… the drink…"
A strong hand suddenly wrapped around her waist.
"Ranran? Are you okay?"
It was Qin Yichuan—her fiancé, tall, handsome, wearing a custom black suit.
His face showed deep concern, but his eyes… something cold flickered inside them.
"Yichuan…"
Her voice trembled.
"I… I feel strange."
"You're probably overwhelmed. Come, I'll take you to rest."
She tried to step back. "No… no, something's wrong with the drink—"
Wanqing cut her off sweetly.
"You must be imagining things, Jiejie. I drank a whole glass earlier."
Liar.
Wanqing never drank alcohol.
But Anran's vision was already fogging, the chandelier lights blurring into gold halos.
Her knees weakened.
Qin Yichuan supported her, his grip strangely firm.
"Let's get you somewhere quiet," he murmured, leading her toward the elevators.
Guests watched them with smiles, believing it was an affectionate moment.
Nobody knew she was being led to her doom.
The elevator ride felt endless.
Each second, the heat inside her grew more unbearable.
Her breathing turned shallow.
"Yichuan… take me home…" she whispered.
"Home?"
His voice changed—soft, but chilling underneath.
"No, Ranran. Home isn't safe. You need to calm down."
His words twisted into something cruel.
She gripped his arm weakly.
"Please… something's wrong… my head… hurts…"
Qin Yichuan didn't answer.
Instead, he tightened his grip.
The elevator doors opened.
He dragged her down a long corridor on the top floor—an area meant for VIPs.
Wanqing followed behind them, humming lightly, as if on a pleasant stroll.
"Don't worry, Jiejie," she said gently. "This room is perfect."
Wanqing unlocked a door with a keycard.
Anran realized—
This had been planned.
Planned too perfectly.
Her heart filled with fear.
"Wanqing… Yichuan… what… are you doing…?"
Wanqing leaned close to her ear, voice dripping with poison.
"Removing you from our way, of course."
Anran's eyes widened in shock.
Before she could speak, they shoved her into the dark room.
She stumbled and fell.
Her body felt like it was burning alive.
She saw a blurred figure lying on the bed—a man, unconscious.
Her stomach twisted with dread.
"No… no… don't…"
Qin Yichuan's lips curled into a cold smile.
"Congratulations, Ranran. Enjoy your engagement gift."
The door slammed shut.
And the world swallowed her.
Pain. Heat. Darkness.
Anran's consciousness drifted in and out as the drug consumed her.
She felt strong arms wrap around her.
Felt herself pulled into unfamiliar warmth.
She struggled weakly, tears falling silently.
"No… no… let me go… please…"
But the man was unconscious as well—drugged, unaware, equally lost.
Two strangers.
Two victims.
Two lives twisted by others' greed.
And the night passed like a nightmare she could never wake from.
Morning.
Light pierced through the curtains.
A gentle breeze stirred the room.
Shi Anran opened her eyes slowly.
Her entire body ached.
Her clothes were scattered across the floor.
Her lips trembled.
Beside her lay a man—tall, muscular, half-covered by the sheets, a chiseled jawline, black hair messy, breath steady.
He looked like a sleeping god.
But to her…
He was devastation.
She stared at him with horror.
Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.
"No… no…"
She covered her mouth, choking back sobs.
She couldn't stay here.
Couldn't let anyone see.
Couldn't let them ruin her further.
Her shaking hands grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around herself.
Without looking back, she fled—barefoot, trembling, tears streaming.
She didn't see the man's phone screen light up:
Mu Lingchen — CEO of the Mu Corporation
Still unconscious, unaware that fate had already bound him to her.
When Anran reached home, her stepsister and fiancé were waiting.
Wanqing rushed over, pretending to panic.
"Jiejie! Where were you? You didn't come home all night!"
Qin Yichuan stepped forward with an expression of pained betrayal.
"Ranran… did you… spend the night with another man?"
Her heart shattered.
She fell to her knees.
Wanqing covered her mouth dramatically.
"Oh no… you really did?"
The trap was complete.
Shi Anran's world ended that morning.
And she didn't know…
inside her was already the beginning of her new fate—
the future that would shake the entire world.
Triplets.
Three lives.
One stolen.
Two she would die to protect.