Love You, Forever and Always

The morning after their night together, Harper Sullivan froze with a sudden, sickening realization—Ryan Delgado hadn't used protection. Fear coiled tight in her chest, sharp and suffocating. But Ryan just smirked, his voice smooth, teasing, as if this were some kind of game. "Our families are enemies. A baby changes that. Your father would have to accept me. Then I could marry you—properly." Heat rushed to her cheeks. She should have pushed him away, should have demanded answers—but his touch still burned through her resistance, and she gave in to him. Then, like a knife to the ribs, she heard his friend's voice from the next room, laced with cruel amusement. "Ryan, that's genius. Get her pregnant, then dump her. Harper would never recover from the scandal. And her family? Total disgrace." Ryan let out a cold, satisfied laugh. "Serves her right. She stole Olivia's spot as valedictorian, broke her heart, drove her overseas. I'll make sure she pays—this is for Olivia." Harper's body went rigid. Three years. Three years of stolen moments, swallowed secrets, letting him touch her in the dark while her family believed her loyal. And it had all been a lie. Rage and humiliation crashed over her, so violent she nearly choked on it. Her phone buzzed in her trembling hand. Fighting back tears, she answered. "Dad… I'll take the engagement." Chapter 1 "You didn't use one this time?" Harper Sullivan sipped the warm milk in silence, her eyes falling to the floor where only one wrapper lay discarded. But tonight, Ryan Delgado had taken her three times. Her face went pale. "How… how could you forget? What if I end up pregnant?" But Ryan didn't look the least bit worried. In fact, he smiled, reaching beneath the thin, sheer fabric that barely covered her. "I did it on purpose," he whispered, biting softly at her earlobe, teasing. "If you get pregnant, I'll marry you. We'll have a grand wedding. I'll give you and our child a proper name. Even your dad will have to accept me. How about that?" Harper's face flushed scarlet. She quickly covered his mouth before he could say anything more outrageous. Ryan loved her most in this state—flustered, embarrassed, and just a little angry. "Why are you always like this…" He buried his face in the soft curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. His voice turned hoarse. "Let's stop using anything, alright? If you get pregnant, I'll finally have a reason to ask your father for your hand." Something stirred in Harper's heart. The Sullivan and Delgado families had been locked in a ruthless business rivalry for years. Yet she, always obedient and proper, had been secretly dating Ryan for three years behind her parents' backs. Maybe… if she had a child, her parents' hearts might finally soften. Sleepiness crept in like a tide. She drifted off, barely conscious. But it didn't last. A sharp, twisting pain in her stomach jolted her awake. She stumbled to the bathroom and vomited up all the milk she had just drunk. From the living room, a voice rang out, casual and cruel. "You really plan to knock Harper up and then marry her, huh, Ryan?" Ryan lit a cigarette. His phone was on speaker. "The first part, yeah. But marry her? Please. Not a chance. As soon as the baby's born, I'm tossing her aside." Harper felt like she was living a nightmare. But the pain in her thigh, where she pinched herself hard—pain sharp and real—told her this was no dream. Laughter erupted from the phone, unrestrained and mocking. "Getting dumped by your family's mortal enemy while pregnant out of wedlock? Harper's reputation is done for! No one'll touch her again! And that old con Gabe—bet he'll have a stroke when he finds out his grandchild's got Delgado blood running in their veins. Serves him right!" Amid the laughter, one voice cut through, jarring and out of place. "Isn't it a little much to drag an innocent girl into this just to get back at Gabe?" That was the question Harper had been asking herself too. Three years ago, she had gone to a bar with classmates to celebrate graduation. By mistake, she drank a spiked drink. A group of drunk men dragged her into a private room and started tearing at her clothes. Ryan had burst in just in time and beat them senseless. Her mind was a haze. She clung to him, desperate, begging for him. When she woke and saw who it was—Ryan—and then saw the marks all over her body, she had wanted to die from the shame. "Don't worry," he had said, "No one else will ever know about this. Not even your father." She'd looked up, startled. So he knew who she was all along. Then why save her? If she had really been ruined that night, the Delgado family would've had the perfect card to play. "I've been watching the Sullivan family for years. I just didn't expect to fall for you." He had wrapped her in his shirt. "I've got a thing about cleanliness. I don't even like brushing against strangers. But with you… I lost all control." The look in his eyes—part exasperation, part deep affection—had captured her heart. But Ryan's cold snort pulled her back to the present. "Innocent? Don't make me laugh… At the graduation ceremony, Harper just had to be the center of attention. Her dad pulled strings to kick Olivia out of her valedictorian speech! When Olivia confronted them, Gabe humiliated her. She cried for an entire day and ended up going abroad. That night, I staged my little rescue act at the bar. That was the start of my revenge." The truth hit harder than she could have imagined. Even the beginning—their so-called fateful encounter—had been a calculated move. She was still sore, her body aching from the night's passion. But now, everything spun around her. She nearly collapsed. Ryan looked up sharply, eyes scanning the corner. No one was there. Still, a frown tugged at his brow. Then he remembered—the milk. He'd laced it with sleeping pills. Relaxing, he let it go. Harper covered her mouth and quietly retreated to the bedroom. Only once she collapsed on the bed did the tears finally fall. Her phone buzzed. The screen lit up with one word: Dad "Harper, sweetie, George's son is coming back from abroad in a week. This time, you have to accept the family engagement with the Dawsons. You've been out there for years and haven't even dated anyone. If you're satisfied with him, let's go ahead and get engaged." Because of Ryan's background, Harper had lied to her parents for years, pretending she was single. She'd given him everything—her heart, her body, everything—hoping their love would grow strong enough that he'd eventually bow his head to her father. In the end, she was the only fool in the show. Swallowing her sobs, Harper nodded to the phone. "Dad, Mom… I've thought it through. I'm willing to go through with the engagement." Gabe was elated. "That's wonderful! I've already made plans with George to shift our business focus overseas. I was just worried you wouldn't want to leave. Now our whole family can stay together!" Chapter 2 The moment she heard footsteps, Harper ended the call. The mattress dipped beside her. Ryan slipped his arms around her from behind and pulled her into his embrace. He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her ear. Harper clenched her fists and pretended to be asleep. She had to hand it to him. His acting really was seamless. By the time she woke up again, daylight was streaming into the room. A delicate slice of strawberry cake sat on the nightstand, pinning down a handwritten note. [Baby, I've got a work dinner tonight. Left you your favorite dessert. Eat something first, then let the housekeeper make you a proper meal.] Harper sat in silence, staring at Ryan's bold, flowing script. Then her phone buzzed. [Want to know what Ryan is doing right now? Come to Suite 8 at Drunken Night.] She sat still for a while, then rose, dressed, and asked the driver to take her to the address. The moment she stepped out of the car, she saw across Drunken Night's giant LED screen flashed bright, celebratory letters: Welcome Home, Princess Olivia Sinclair! She paused mid-step, then walked straight in. The door to the suite was slightly ajar. Laughter and cheers rang out in bursts. Seated next to Ryan was a beautiful woman in a white dress, long hair cascading down her back, looking pure and elegant. Anyone who approached her with a drink was intercepted by Ryan—he drank every glass himself. Olivia was her college classmate. They studied the same major. For all four years, every test, every project—if Harper was there, Olivia could only ever come second. The claim that Harper had "stolen" her spot as valedictorian? Ridiculous. "Ryan, I heard you've been dating Harper for three years?" Before he could answer, one of his friends cut in. "Olivia, don't misunderstand Ryan. He's only doing this to get revenge on Harper—for you, of course." "I can back that up. Remember last year, her birthday? Ryan said he'd handmade a gift, but 'accidentally' dropped it into the lotus pond? I've still got the pictures on my phone—look at her diving into that mud, digging like crazy for it. Doesn't she look like some kind of gorilla?" Harper's whole body tensed. Her knuckles turned white against the doorknob. She remembered it clearly. At the time, Ryan had spent nights carving the gift—his hands layered with fresh cuts over old scars. She'd been so touched, so worried for him, she hadn't waited for professional divers. She jumped into that stinking, mosquito-infested mud herself. The leeches had left her legs riddled with bloody holes. She never found it. Now, Olivia let out a surprised gasp and pulled a necklace from beneath her collar. "Ryan, this pendant you gave me last year—you carved it yourself?" Ryan's gaze locked onto the pale curve of her collarbone, eyes flickering with surprise and delight. "You've been wearing it all this time?" Olivia smiled, lips gently pressed together. "When have I ever not taken care of something you gave me?" After a whole year, Harper finally saw what that gift looked like. It was beautiful. Unfortunately, it was on someone else's neck. Everyone gathered around the photos, laughing until their stomachs hurt, pointing and jeering. Then someone noticed the figure at the door. "H-Harper?" Ryan's eyes narrowed. He shot to his feet. "Harper! When did you get here?" She forced down the nausea rising in her chest and said calmly, "Just happened to be passing by." He studied her expression closely. Not finding anything unusual, he visibly relaxed. He reached out to pull her inside, but she stepped back, avoiding him. "Don't want to interrupt your party." His eyes darkened. "You heard something just now, didn't you?" Harper bit down her sarcasm and gave a little smile. "Let's not forget—we never made our relationship public. If I walk in now, what am I supposed to be? Doesn't seem appropriate, does it?" Without waiting to see his reaction, she turned and ran from Drunken Night. The tears wouldn't stop coming. The humiliation, the betrayal, the ridicule—it all hurt. But none of it compared to the pain delivered by the man who had once held her closest. Everything was a blur. Then came the screech of tires. A black car had lost control, and it was speeding straight toward her. She froze. The danger was so sudden, so real, her body wouldn't move. "Watch out!" Ryan barreled into her, shielding her with his body as they rolled across the pavement. The sharp scent of blood filled the air. Harper trembled as she cradled Ryan's head in her arms, her voice shaking with panic. Why? Why, if he wanted to hurt her, did he throw himself in harm's way? Had three years really melted some corner of his heart? Ryan's lips were pale, his right arm twisted unnaturally. But all he cared about was her. "Baby… are you okay?" Harper, still in shock, shook her head. Just some scrapes. Relieved, Ryan passed out on the spot. The hospital report showed he had a few fractured bones and a mild concussion. But when he couldn't eat without vomiting, Harper rushed home to make soup. Halfway there, she realized she'd forgotten her phone and turned back. She opened the hospital room door—and froze. A group of playboy friends were huddled around his bed. "How about that fake blood pack, huh? Worked like a charm! The doctor's one of us too." "Hahaha, did you see Harper shaking? She was so panicked she got cold sores from the stress! Hilarious!" The bandage on Ryan's head was gone. His forehead was smooth and unscathed. His "fractured" arm? Perfectly fine, busy picking up food. "Who told you idiots to call her over today? I nearly thought she figured it out. Guess not." "Relax, that dumb girl's been played by you so many times. Even if she did suspect something, she's so hung up on you, the real problem would be getting her to leave!" Chapter 3 Harper stared at Ryan's perfectly unscathed body, the chill in her chest sinking to the marrow. She had been blaming herself, thinking it was her fault for spacing out and not watching the road—believing that was why Ryan got hurt. But no. This whole charade, this pitiful act, had been orchestrated by him all along. Three years of love. What part of it had ever been real? She didn't dare believe anything anymore. Turning away, she didn't even bother to grab her phone. Back at the villa, Harper didn't make any soup. Instead, she began packing. The things that were hers, she boxed up to mail back home. The things he gave her—she threw them all away. Even looking at them made her stomach turn. Who knew what kind of tricks were behind those gifts? Photos secretly taken, shared with others for a laugh? As she packed, she realized just how many memories they'd accumulated over the past three years. Every single thing—kept by her with care, in perfect, untouched condition. A loud noise echoed from downstairs—the door being thrown open. Harper quickly hid the suitcase, and just as she was about to leave the bedroom, she ran straight into a chest. It was Ryan. He was breathing hard, sweat glistening at his temple from running, his face dark and unreadable. In his left hand, he held her phone. His voice was low and tense. "Why haven't you gone back to the hospital yet? It's already evening." His expression grew colder. "What's this friend request? The note said it's from your fiancé." Harper froze. Then quickly looked down, masking her face. "Fiancé? I don't have one. They must've added the wrong person." Ryan studied her closely, clearly still suspicious. "Then why did you change your phone's password? It used to be my birthday." A silent sigh of relief passed through her. Thank god she'd changed it yesterday after waking up. The last thing she wanted now was for him to find something and make a scene. After a pause, she put on an innocent expression. "I thought about it… using your birthday wasn't a great idea. What if someone figured it out?" His eyes clouded over. "So what if they do? At most, we go public." Harper looked at him in disbelief. She'd hinted at it before—carefully, cautiously—and each time, he shut her down without hesitation. Three years of dating, all in secret. Most of their 'dates' had taken place in hotel rooms, in the same bed. "Baby, just bear with it for now. One day, we'll be together for good… grow old together," he'd whispered. It was that dream of growing old together that had kept her going. That one line had made all the secrecy feel worth it. But now—now he says this? Harper gave a small smile, sharp with irony. "What's gotten into you lately? You've been so paranoid. Don't you know how much I love you? Have I ever lied to you? Ever messed around with someone else?" She was beautiful, kind, from a prestigious family—never lacking admirers. In the three years she'd been with Ryan, more men had come chasing than she could count. But she never entertained any of them. She'd always been clear—always firm. No one should know that better than Ryan. Sure enough, his expression softened. He pulled her into a one-armed hug, guiding her toward the bed. "It's because so many people are after you. I get jealous." As he spoke, his fingers had already undone the top three buttons of her blouse, brushing against her smooth skin. Harper panicked, her face flushing as she grabbed his hand to stop him. "You—! You're still injured!" He seemed to take her words as concern and smiled, flipping over to lie back. "It's fine. Baby, just climb on… move for me. Think of it as repaying me for saving your life." Her face paled. Her shoulders trembled. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. How could someone say something so shameless? He hadn't been injured. The rescue had been staged. And now he was using it to coax her into bed? There was no love here. Only desire, physical and consuming. For the first time in three years, Harper said no. "I can't… my stomach hurts." Chapter 4 Ryan's smile faltered. A flicker of tension crossed his face as he gently placed his hand on Harper's lower belly. "Why does your stomach hurt? Don't tell me… you're actually pregnant?" His eyes held a trace of surprise—and something else, a fleeting joy that surfaced too quickly for even him to catch. "You should lie down and rest. We'll go to the hospital tomorrow and check it out." Harper shook her head, her emotions tangled in silence. "Maybe I'm just tired. I want to take a few days and really rest." Ryan frowned slightly but nodded. "I'll go heat up some milk." It was a small habit of hers since childhood, something that once made her feel cared for—proof that she was loved, in her own quiet way. But ever since she discovered he'd slipped sleeping pills into her milk, even that faint warmth had evaporated. As soon as he left, she picked up her phone, fingers trembling slightly. Sure enough, a friend request had come through. Her eyes locked onto the name: Fiancé. Harper bit her lip. So pushy, she thought. They weren't even close to being engaged. She hovered over the "accept" button, still hesitating, when a call from Gabe lit up her screen. "Harper, that George's son is flying in tomorrow. Come home and have dinner with us." Tomorrow? Hadn't they said it would be another week? She frowned. "I already have plans." Her father, mistaking her excuse for a brush-off, sounded displeased. "He pushed aside a whole bunch of things just to come back early. He's taking this seriously—you should too!" His words made her pause. Her heart stirred, just a little. "Dad, I really do have other plans." Her university class president was getting married. A bunch of old classmates were meeting up to hit the bar—one last wild night before he settled down. Gabe didn't push. He figured it'd look bad for her to seem antisocial in front of her friends. But once Harper arrived and got dragged into the VIP booth, she regretted it. Ryan was there. And so was Olivia. Along with that same group of spoiled, arrogant heirs she'd seen too many times before. Had she known they'd be here, she would've gone home to meet her so-called fiancé instead. The bar was already buzzing, alcohol thick in the air. "Come on, let's play a game!" They pulled her over, hands on her shoulders and arms, pressing a can of dice into her hands. "Loser either drinks three shots or kisses someone!" The cheers and laughter grew louder, wild and unfiltered. Olivia lost the first round. Her face twisted in mock frustration. "Ugh. I caught a cold recently, took some meds… I really can't drink." But the others howled like wolves. "Kiss! Kiss! Olivia, pick me!" "You? Dream on. If she's picking someone, it's gotta be Ryan." Instantly, all eyes turned to Ryan. "Hey, cut it out," someone laughed nervously. "He's a clean freak—hates being touched. We're lucky he even showed up tonight. Don't scare him off." Olivia's cheeks flushed. She turned slightly toward him. "Ryan… can I pick you?" Harper's hands curled tightly in her lap, her eyes fixed on Ryan. Across the chaotic blur of people, their gazes met. She wanted to know too—what would he say, right here in front of her? And then, she had her answer. Ryan's lips curved into a lazy smile. He looked down at Olivia, his gaze soft. "My pleasure." The room exploded into whoops and whistles, drowning out the music. Harper's ears rang with it. Her chest tightened. Everything around her slowed—like watching a painful memory in slow motion, crystal clear and inescapable. Olivia wrapped her arm around his, moving in with flushed cheeks and shy boldness. Just as their lips were about to meet, Ryan suddenly looked up. And what he saw made his heart skip. Harper wasn't flustered. Wasn't angry. Her eyes—usually soft and easily stirred by him—were still and deep, like water left undisturbed in a shadowed well. Quiet. Cold. At the very last second, Ryan turned his head. Olivia's kiss landed awkwardly at the corner of his mouth. The dim lighting helped. No one noticed the shift. They were all too caught up in the thrill, the laughter. Only Olivia's smile wavered for a second. She dipped her head, feigning shyness, hiding the flicker of disappointment in her eyes. Next round, the loser was Harper. She frowned. "I'm allergic to alcohol…" The boys around Ryan booed loudly. "Olivia said she couldn't drink either and now you've got a reason too? That's just copying her—how lame." "Fine, then pick someone to kiss." Harper glanced around, her face going pale. There wasn't a single person here she'd even consider getting close to. One guy's eyes lit up with mischief. He slid up beside her and slung an arm around her shoulders. "Harper, how about me? I'm a damn good kisser, promise I'll blow your mind." The stench of alcohol hit her skin like rot. Harper's scalp tingled in panic—she shoved at him, struggling to break free. But he held fast, his grip like a vice. Heart racing, Harper instinctively looked to Ryan. He knew she was allergic to alcohol. He knew. He had just accepted Olivia's kiss so easily. Was it really so hard for him to show a little decency and get her out of this? Someone laughed crudely. "What's she looking at Ryan for? Want to kiss him too?" "Please. Everyone knows the Delgado and Sullivan families are enemies. If she's still clinging to him, that's some next-level pathetic." Ryan's gaze darkened. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He took a sip of wine, calm and unbothered, watching the scene like it was nothing more than entertainment. He said nothing. At that moment, Harper's hands stopped struggling. They simply… dropped. They were right. She really was pathetic. Falling in love with the son of her family's greatest rival. Still harboring hope—even now. The taunts, the humiliation—they stung. But it was Ryan's silence, his passive watching from the sidelines, that broke her. That severed the last rope holding her above the drop. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks. She gave up. Chapter 5 Just as that greasy mouth was about to land on Harper's lips, Ryan's eyes darkened. He finally set down his wine glass, ready to put an end to this farce. Before he could even open his mouth, Harper suddenly doubled over and vomited a sour stream of bile. The man trying to take advantage of her turned pale and let go immediately. But Harper, face ashen, kept dry heaving, unable to stop. The crowd finally sensed that something was wrong. "Did she eat something bad?" "No… this feels more like—pregnancy?" Ryan shot to his feet. The glass in his hand shattered against the floor, splashing shards and wine all over Olivia's leg. "Harper! Are you really… pregnant?" He didn't care at all about the mess. He rushed forward, pulling her into his arms. There wasn't a trace of the neat freak in him now. Harper instinctively cradled her stomach, her lips trembling. "I think… my period's been late for a while." Ryan swept her into his arms, barely containing the smile tugging at his lips. "You guys keep playing. I'm taking her to the hospital!" He tossed out the words and bolted from the bar like the wind, not sparing a glance at anyone's reaction. The people left behind stared after them, bewildered. "Harper's feeling unwell, but why's Ryan so worked up about it?" "Weren't they supposed to hate each other? Like, hardcore hate?" The second-generation heirs all exchanged strange looks. Their faces wore the same complicated expression. Seeing Olivia sitting there alone, looking crushed, they quickly gathered around her. "Olivia, don't be sad. Even if Harper is really pregnant, Ryan would never marry her!" "Exactly! Ryan said it himself—back in our graduation year, when Gabe bullied you, he only went after Harper to get revenge for you!" Everyone tried to comfort her with a chorus of half-truths and reassurances, but Olivia's smile was clearly forced. Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, her face falling even further. Mumbling something about getting fresh air, she stepped into a quiet corner. "I told you I'd transfer the money," she snapped. The voice on the other end was sleazy and mocking. "Well, you're taking too damn long. The guys I owe don't believe in patience." A dark look clouded Olivia's eyes. She said she'd take care of it soon. "You better. Or I'll start selling those wild videos of you with all those different men." Her hand trembled as she hung up, the rage pulsing in her chest. She had always aimed for a rich man, but somehow, she'd fallen for a fake. Years abroad—nothing to show for it. She thought she could circle back and snag Ryan. But now Harper was pregnant. He kept denying any feelings, but Olivia wasn't fooled. She had long noticed that his supposed coldness toward Harper wasn't as absolute as he claimed. Once the child was born… blood would speak louder than denial. Who knew what he'd feel then? Why else would he have bolted out of there like that—so panicked, so protective? At the hospital, Harper's fingers drifted over the tiny form on the ultrasound screen. Ryan pulled her close and kissed her. "I'm going to be a dad!" He looked at her, grinning. "Why so quiet? Are you that happy?" Harper's heart was a tangle of confusion. A sudden thought popped into her mind. "When… when did you stop using protection?" Ryan blinked, then said after a beat, "Half a year ago, maybe?" He chuckled. "Can you blame me? You always looked so blissed out in bed, you didn't even notice." Harper lowered her hand. The strength drained from her limbs. Ryan didn't notice a thing—he thought she was just tired and helped her lie down gently. "The baby's just two months. Once things stabilize, let's tell your dad, okay?" Harper opened her mouth but couldn't get any words out. She had been prepared to leave quietly. But the baby changed everything. How could she explain this to her parents? And what about her fiancé? Should she get rid of it in secret? Her hand unconsciously rested on her lower abdomen, protective already. The painful truth dawned on her—she couldn't do it. Couldn't bring herself to. This was her child. With so much weighing on her mind, she barely slept at night. The pregnancy was already showing signs of instability. These days, Ryan stayed home to care for her. The Delgado heir who couldn't tell scallions from garlic now learned to make soup and stew dishes under the housekeeper's guidance. He even massaged her legs and soaked her feet. Once, all of this would've seemed unbelievably sweet. But now, watching his face full of tender joy, Harper only felt he was preparing—getting ready to one day hurt her without mercy. There was no going back to the way things were. "I said I'm not going out. Try bothering me again and see what happens." Ryan stood on the balcony, a cigarette between his fingers—unlit. He said he was quitting for the baby. "Come on, Ryan, don't tell us you're actually buying into this act?" The voices on the other end of the call groaned in disbelief. "Don't tell us you've fallen for her just because of the kid. Are you actually thinking of marrying Harper? Olivia was heartbroken after you left that night!" Ryan's smile faded a little. Behind him, Harper had quietly appeared. She spoke up. "If you want to go, go. No need to keep turning your friends down because of me." Chapter 6 Ryan quickly hit the end call button. "I barely have enough time to take care of you—where would I find the energy to go fooling around?" Harper gave a half smile. "If you're worried about the baby, don't be. I'll take care of myself. If you're worried about me… you really don't need to be. You can kiss whoever you want, mess around with whoever you like. I won't mind." Ryan's expression darkened. Suddenly, he grabbed her by the shoulders. "Why wouldn't you mind? You're my girlfriend!" Harper let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Girlfriend? I thought I was your arch-nemesis." The words caught him off guard. A beat passed, and then it clicked—she was still upset about what had happened at the bar. Realizing that, oddly, made him feel a little pleased. "You were jealous?" he said, coaxing her as he slowly guided her toward the bedroom. "I didn't let Olivia kiss me that night. I turned away at the last second. I've got to head to the office tomorrow. Just letting you know in advance." Then, with deliberate sweetness, he said, "From now on, I'll report everything to you first, okay, Mrs. Delgado?" That last line hit Harper like a blade—twice over. It used to be everything she dreamed of. Now, it just felt like a cruel joke. … The next morning, not long after Ryan left the house, Harper received a message from Olivia. It was an address. "I want to apologize in person. There's something I need to tell you." Harper didn't care what she had to say. She only wanted to make one thing clear: she was leaving Ryan, for good. They wouldn't be seeing each other again. Olivia listened quietly, her expression unreadable. "So… you've known all along. What about the baby?" Harper gently placed a hand over her stomach. For once, a hint of warmth touched her lips. She had made up her mind. She would cancel the engagement. She would have this child and raise it on her own. She would never return to this country. The father and child would never meet. Olivia let out a cold laugh, then clapped her hands together. From the bedroom, a gang of thuggish men suddenly rushed out. Harper's heart skipped. Instinct screamed at her to run. But the men quickly surrounded her, leering. "You wanna leave?" one of them sneered. "Then leave clean. Don't leave Ryan with any reason to come looking for you." Sweat broke out on Harper's back. Her hands trembled as she reached for her phone to call the cops. But the men ignored her. Instead, they lunged toward Olivia and ripped her dress apart. She screamed and grabbed a fruit knife from the table, plunging it into her own neck. Harper froze. In the chaos, the front door burst open with a crash. Ryan stormed in. The moment he saw the blood on Olivia's neck, something in him snapped. His roar echoed through the room as he tore into the thugs with wild, furious punches. Blood flew. Bone cracked. Olivia curled into herself, crying, then threw her arms around him from behind. "Take me away from here… please… I feel so dirty…" Ryan quickly shrugged off his suit jacket and wrapped it around her trembling frame. Then he turned—his eyes bloodshot, burning with rage. His voice was low and deadly. "You're the dirty one." He stared at Harper like he didn't recognize her. "I never thought you'd be this vicious. Saying you didn't care, pretending to be calm… and all the while, planning this behind my back?" Harper shook her head numbly. "No… it was her. It was—" But she stopped. In that moment, she understood. Olivia had played her. Step by step, forcing her back until she looked like the villain. Even if she screamed the truth now, no one would believe her. Behind Ryan, Olivia smirked—just barely. A quiet, triumphant curve of the lips. Then she feigned shock and collapsed into his arms. Panic took over him. Without another glance at Harper, he scooped Olivia up and ran out the door. Harper tried to follow. But the thugs grabbed her—one by the hand, another by the waist. "Going somewhere, Miss Sullivan? You still haven't paid us." Ryan stopped in the doorway. He looked back. That gaze—it cut like ice, burned like fire. Cold. Furious. Then he kicked the door shut. Locked her in. Left her to them. Harper's fear spiked. She grabbed the knife that had fallen to the floor, holding it against herself in desperation. The men just laughed. "You think you're some princess like Olivia? Lady, we're not going easy on you." One of them grabbed her ankle and yanked. She hit the floor hard. Her belly slammed into the corner of the coffee table. Pain exploded, hot and sharp, tearing through her. She tried to push herself up, and found that her hands were slick with something warm. Blood. Her voice cracked. "My baby…" Chapter 7 Harper let out a broken, wrenching cry—the kind that made even the gangsters freeze for a split second. But only for a second. Their hesitation was quickly drowned out by another wave of excited, ugly laughter. "Damn, I've never had a pregnant woman before. Wonder if it feels even better?" They ignored her agony completely, forcing her limbs apart and stuffing a piece of clothing into her mouth to muffle the screams. When those disgusting hands finally touched her skin, Harper wept silently, eyes wide and filled with hopelessness. Her strength had long left her. Despair took its place. The leader, a blond-haired thug, hurriedly fumbled with his belt, eager to climb on top of her. Then the door slammed open. A strange man stepped through with the cold, cutting presence of a storm. In one swift, brutal motion, he kicked the blond man several feet across the room. Behind him, his bodyguards moved like shadows, swiftly and efficiently subduing the rest. Harper's heart, which had just plummeted into darkness, surged upward too fast—and the world went black. When she came to, she found herself in a hospital room. The man who had saved her was sitting nearby. His presence was overwhelming, his features so sharply handsome it hurt to look at him. Cold. Distant. Icy to the core. She tried to sit up, only for his hand to press her gently, but firmly, back down. "You had a miscarriage. Don't move." "Thank you… May I ask who you are?" His lips parted slightly. "Christopher Dawson." Her shoulders trembled. It turned out, her to-be-fiancé had saved her. And he'd seen everything. She struggled to find her voice. "I'll talk to my father… to call off the engagement." Christopher didn't even raise an eyebrow. "Why?" The question caught her off guard. She blinked in confusion before answering, "You saw it. I've been secretly dating Ryan. I got pregnant. And now… the miscarriage…" He let out a cold "Mm." Then added, "I already looked into everything. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have gotten there in time. I don't care about your past." And then, seeing the bewilderment in her eyes, he said simply, "It was all Ryan's fault." Tears began to slide silently onto the pristine white sheets. At first, she cried quietly. Then, as if something finally gave way inside her, the sobs came out in full force. Loud, unrestrained. Like she was trying to expel every ounce of pain and humiliation she'd bottled up for far too long. A large hand landed gently on her back, stiff at first, but slowly moving in awkward comfort. She sat up and wiped her face. Her voice was calm now, eyes clear. "I'm leaving the country in two days. I'll end everything before then." Once she'd made her decision, she dialed a number. "Ryan, I think we shou—" He cut her off. With a long sigh, his voice sounded magnanimous, like he was forgiving a child who'd made a mistake. "I thought it over. You were emotional and insecure because of the pregnancy. That's why you did what you did. I apologized to Olivia at the hospital. I smoothed things over so she wouldn't press charges." Harper stayed quiet. So in the end, he still chose to believe Olivia's lies. He believed that the woman he'd shared a bed with for three years was some kind of heartless schemer. "It's my birthday tomorrow. You can finally show up. Start integrating into my circle. But you'll need to apologize to Olivia in front of everyone. Thank her for being so gracious and forgiving. If not, you'd already be in jail." For the past three years, Harper had never once attended his birthday party. She had stayed home, making hangover soup and waiting for him to stumble back drunk. She didn't need to do that anymore. Her eyes lowered, and her smile was so bitter it twisted at the corners. Pity he couldn't see it. "Alright. I'll give you a big gift tomorrow." Satisfied with her obedience, Ryan smiled and arrived early at the hotel the next day. But the minutes ticked by. Harper never showed. She didn't pick up his calls, nor did she reply to his messages. A strange unease began to claw at his chest. Just then, his friends surrounded Olivia and led her in. She was dressed to perfection, her already striking features even more dazzling than usual. Men's eyes followed her like moths to a flame. He used to hate it when other men stared at her. But now, all he could do was check his phone again, and again. "Ryan, we heard you're dating some mystery woman now?" a friend called out. He blinked, dragged back to the moment. A faint smile touched his lips. "That's right. Actually, you all know her…" Before he could finish, someone pushed Olivia into his arms. "We all know it's Olivia! Come on, you've been into her since college!" "She left for overseas back then. Otherwise, you'd probably have two kids by now!" Olivia blushed prettily, not denying anything. But Ryan's smile slowly vanished. He gently pulled his arm from her grasp. "I'm talking about Harper." He didn't know what made him say it—it burst out before he could stop it. Strangely, though, instead of regret, he felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest. The room fell silent for a beat. Then came the whispers. "Isn't Harper Gabe Sullivan's daughter? Ryan's dad's business rival?" The louder the questions got, the more irritable Ryan became. "It's true," he said. "She's pregnant with my child. We're making it official. Meeting the parents soon." The guests broke into laughter. "You're funny, man!" "If she's your girlfriend, where is she? Why isn't she here?" At that moment, the door opened. A figure rushed in. Every pair of eyes turned toward her. The cleaning lady nearly tripped under the scrutiny but forced herself forward, stopping in front of Ryan. "This… This is from Miss Harper. She said it's your birthday gift." His tightly furrowed brows finally relaxed. He eagerly tore open the envelope. Inside was a miscarriage report. Back at the airport, Harper stood still, phone in hand. Christopher glanced over. "That SIM card won't work overseas. Toss it." Her hand loosened. The phone slid soundlessly into the trash. "…Alright," she said softly. "Let's board."