Adalee Morgan's tender expression shattered in a split second—kiss?! Cruz Nichols caught the shift from adoration to shock in her eyes, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Before she could bolt, he cradled her face in his hands, his jaw-droppingly handsome features closing in on hers.

Adalee's eyes went huge, her heart hammering as his cool, sculpted lips met her soft, cherry-red ones. The second their lips touched, a bolt of electricity shot through her. Her toes curled, her body locked up, and her hands dangled helplessly at her sides. Cruz caught the flush on her cheeks and her total lack of experience, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he deepened the kiss.

The kiss stretched on, feeling like more than a minute. When he finally pulled back, Adalee's eyes were glazed. Cruz swept her away, leaving a room of confused guests and a heartbroken Miranda Jenkins in his wake.

Cruz carried Adalee into the hotel's bridal suite and set her down gently on the festive crimson bed. The second she hit the sheets, she snatched a blanket and rolled herself up like a burrito, still too flustered to meet his eyes after that kiss.

Cruz found it amusing. How could she get this flustered? Despite the rumors about her supposed wild side, this shy little act suggested she was anything but experienced. Her reaction to that kiss had been way too real to fake. She was soft and tempting, just like he remembered—a mouthwatering little treat.

Biting her lip, Adalee blinked those bright, spellbinding eyes, completely unaware of her own appeal. "Um, Mr. Nichols, can I ask you something?"

Cruz's voice dropped. "Call me ‘husband.'"

Adalee blushed harder. Newlyweds didn't do formal titles, right? After a beat of hesitation, she whispered, "Uh, hubby."

The soft, sweet sound of it did something weird to his heart. Cruz's gaze darkened, and he gave a small nod. "Mm. What's your question?"

His tone was easy, almost playful—obviously in a good mood. Relaxing a fraction, Adalee smiled and asked, "So, you agreed to marry me because you felt obligated? Not because of any feelings?"

Cruz paused. "...Yes."

That had been his original reasoning. He had no romantic ties, so marrying one person or another made no difference. His family was powerful enough that he didn't need a strategic alliance. If not for that one night of drinking and drugs, he never would have ended up with her—or made that promise. Besides, that night—his first—had left a lasting impression...

Adalee's eyes lit up at his answer. "So you don't have feelings for me. Does that mean we can keep things casual?"

Cruz's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Adalee explained brightly, "I mean we can be married on paper. We just put on a show in public, but we don't have to do any of the stuff real couples do!"

Cruz's handsome face inexplicably darkened several shades. "Such as?" he growled.

Such as? Adalee's ears suddenly burned. Her tongue fumbled. "Like holding hands, kissing, sharing a bed..."

Cruz locked his dark eyes on her. "I'm a normal man," he said, low and husky.

Adalee caught the implication instantly. She squeezed her thighs together without thinking and gave an awkward smile. "I—I get it. Everyone has needs, and you're young and healthy. Totally normal. I don't mind if you go see other women, really!"

Cruz's face went completely black. His brand-new wife was pushing him away on their wedding night—telling him to go find other women? He needed to know what was going on in that head of hers. Especially since she'd been nothing like this during the ceremony.

"Wildflowers aren't as sweet as the ones in your own garden," he murmured, his eyes narrowing dangerously. Then he bent down, bracing his hands on either side of her, his solid frame towering over her small body, his clean scent wrapping around her.

Staring up at him—a predator hiding behind a clean, suffocating facade—Adalee's face flamed again. She tried to scoot backward, but Cruz yanked her right back. Her hands landed on his hard chest. Little did she know, she was digging her own grave.

Cruz's body tensed instantly, his gaze dropping to her tempting lips. The memory of that kiss made his Adam's apple bob. Sensing where this was going, Adalee slapped a hand over her own mouth and shot him a defensive glare. "Mr. Nichols, no! I'm pregnant. It might upset the baby!"

Cruz froze, his lips twitching. The baby was only three months along—barely formed. What could possibly upset it? Did she really think he didn't know basic biology? Adalee knew how weak that sounded, but she had no choice but to double down. "Ahem... well, even at three months, the baby could still feel... discomfort..."

Cruz said nothing. Adalee's clear eyes went pleading. "Mr. Nichols, I'm pregnant… maybe we should wait."

Cruz's expression blackened. He glared at her for a solid three seconds, then shoved off the bed and stalked into the bathroom.

Letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, Adalee patted her tiny belly. "Baby, you're mommy's little lucky charm—sent the big bad wolf running!"

But this was only delaying the inevitable. She needed to have a real talk with Cruz. She didn't love him, and forcing a relationship would only make both of them miserable. Hopefully he'd understand. If nothing else, she still had the baby as a shield.

In the bathroom, Cruz hadn't truly planned to consummate anything with his pregnant wife. All he'd wanted was a little payback—her suggestion that he go find other women had lit a fire under his temper. But instead of getting the reaction he wanted, she'd just left him even more wound up. Thinking about his soft, endearing wife, Cruz's expression sobered. After a moment of consideration, he pulled out his phone to text a doctor friend.

He typed bluntly: *If a woman is three months pregnant, will having sex cause the baby any discomfort or developmental issues?*

He stared at the screen for a few seconds, then set the phone on the counter, turned the shower to cold, and stepped under the spray.

The reception was still buzzing, champagne glasses clinking, when Cliff Thompson—one of Cruz Nichols' closest friends—nearly choked on his drink. He stared at the message that had just popped up on his phone.

"Whoa—cough, cough…!"

Cruz, who had stepped out of the bridal suite only long enough to deal with a few urgent calls, narrowed his eyes across the nearly empty side lounge. "Spit it out."

Cliff cleared his throat, still shook. "Seriously, mate, you're not actually gonna tie the knot with someone like Adalee, are you?"

Cruz's jaw tightened. "Someone like her? What exactly are you implying?"

Cliff hesitated, then leaned in. "You didn't catch what the guests were whispering at the wedding? Apparently her private life's a bit of a rollercoaster, and here you are walking straight into it with your eyes wide open. You'd be better off marrying Miranda—she's got a spotless rep."

Cruz shot back without missing a beat. "She's not like that."

Cliff pressed. "How can you be so sure?"

Cruz simply said, "You can tell from a kiss."

Cliff: "..." Yeah, no point arguing with that.

"Alright, well—when it comes to the honeymoon," Cliff shrugged, "ease into things. Avoid intimacy in the first and last three months of pregnancy, but otherwise, you're good to go."

Cruz gave a cool nod. Then, after a beat—like something clicked—he added, "Could you jot down some pregnancy dos and don'ts for me?"

Cliff groaned. "Dude, can't you just Google it?"

Cruz replied, "Online sources are too hit-or-miss. You're a certified doctor. I trust you more."

"But I'm a general surgeon—not an obstetrician!"

"Aren't all doctors supposed to know this stuff? Have those notes ready by tonight. Otherwise, what's the point of having you as my doctor?"

"Geez, you're relentless, man!"

But before Cliff could finish his rant, Cruz had already hung up.

After a cold shower, Cruz stepped out of the bathroom in a black robe. He glanced at the bed and saw his young wife already fast asleep—head nestled into the pillow, clutching a pile of blankets as she curled up.

Even in sleep, her delicate brows were pinched together, long lashes trembling like a startled butterfly, fluttering against the shadows creeping through her mind.

Cruz's expression softened. He moved toward her, intending to pull his restless wife into his arms and soothe her.

But before he could, Adalee suddenly clasped his head—arms wrapping tight around his waist—sobbing with joy, "My baby, my baby, finally I get to hold you..."

Cruz: "..."

If her eyes weren't closed, he'd swear she was messing with him.

Then she gently pressed a kiss to his forehead, her lips barely grazing his skin, murmuring sweetly, "Baby, I love you..."

Cruz swallowed hard. He couldn't help but stare at her doll-like face and those tempting lips, his gaze growing deeper, darker...

While the newlyweds settled peacefully in their hotel suite, chaos was unraveling back in the reception hall.

Swapping brides like that? It was a lot for everyone to wrap their heads around.

Especially for the Nichols and Morgan families—who were left confused and embarrassed, feeling the judgmental stares of the guests like lasers. Humiliated, they had no clue what to do next.

Miranda Jenkins, unable to cope with being so abruptly rejected, sat sobbing on the floor.

Meanwhile, Miranda's parents—Palmer and Mrs. Morgan—were desperate for answers. But seeing Miranda's tear-streaked face, they bit their tongues, even though questions weighed heavy on their hearts.

Now that their eldest daughter had been whisked off to the bridal suite by Cruz, all they could do was speculate.

Their biggest concern? Keeping anyone from barging into the bridal chamber. Who knows what they'd walk in on? The chance of witnessing something inappropriate wasn't high on their list—but a media scandal? That was the real threat.

Once the guests finally cleared out, leaving only the Nichols and Morgan clans in the hall, uneasy glances were exchanged all around.

Madeleine Nichols frowned. "What's going on? If the Morgan family doesn't give us some answers today, we can't stay tied by marriage!"

Palmer and his family were just as baffled. Instinctively, they turned to the one person who might know what actually went down—Miranda.

"I—I..."

As all eyes locked onto her, Miranda's mind went blank. Overwhelmed, she feigned a faint, conveniently collapsing into her mother's arms.

"Miranda!" Mrs. Morgan caught her quickly and gave Madeleine an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Nichols. This mess is on us. My daughter's fainted—we need to take her to the hospital first. Once she's recovered, we'll come to your home and sort everything out."

Palmer nodded in agreement. "Yes, we'll personally make amends next time."

Madeleine glanced at Miranda—who looked completely out cold—her brows knitting together. Reluctantly, she waved them off. "Go ahead."

Not long after, Palmer and his wife escorted Miranda to the hospital.

And so ended the circus of a wedding.

Once at the hospital, Miranda snapped out of it fast, insisting on going home without any exam.

Given that she was physically fine, a check-up really wouldn't tell them anything new.

Mrs. Morgan suddenly switched to a firm tone. "Miranda, tell your mother exactly what happened with your marriage to Cruz today!"

Palmer frowned. "And you said your sister's child was fathered by some barfly. So how on earth is it Cruz's child?"

Miranda felt a chill run through her as she met their scrutinizing stares. But she quickly ducked her head, letting the tears flow. "I—I don't know. I only heard gossip..."

Palmer pressed. "Then why was Cruz marrying you instead of your sister in the first place?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe Cruz thought I looked like her and mixed us up."

Miranda did share a resemblance with Adalee—that was exactly why the Morgans had taken her in as Adalee's stand-in.

Hearing this, Palmer and Mrs. Morgan still had their doubts. But Miranda, whom they'd raised since childhood, was always clever and compliant—there was little room for suspicion.

Adalee, on the other hand, had disappointed them time and time again. Especially with the sudden pregnancy—that had hurt them deeply and shattered whatever trust they had in her.

Even the revelation that the child was Cruz's didn't repair the damage or change how they saw her.

Sensing that her parents had bought her story, Miranda paused, then burst into fresh tears.

"Dad, Mom, I'm devastated. Why did my sister wait until my wedding to Cruz to claim her child as his? Why didn't she tell me before? Now everyone knows I got left at the altar. How am I supposed to face anyone again?"

Mrs. Morgan's heart ached for her. She nodded sympathetically and pulled her close, holding her tight.

Mrs. Morgan pulled Miranda Jenkins into a comforting embrace, patting her back gently while venting her frustration about Adalee. "Adalee acted like a complete fool and made Miranda the laughingstock of the whole ceremony. How could she do something like that to her own sister? And she doesn't even show a trace of remorse!"

Adalee had been evasive about her child's father from the start, only breaking down and confessing at Miranda's wedding—clearly stirring up a storm.

Mrs. Morgan felt heartbroken—what kind of daughter had she raised, anyway?

Mr. Morgan's face darkened. "When she comes home, she owes you a sincere apology. What's done is done; we can't undo it. And since she's Mrs. Nichols now, there's no point dwelling on it. I'll help you find someone better than Cruz."

Miranda was deeply displeased. The difference in treatment between a biological and an adopted child was as clear as day.

Adalee had stolen her fiancé and humiliated her in front of everyone. Yet all the Morgans demanded was an apology, refusing to impose anything harsher.

Find her someone better than Cruz Nichols? Who on earth could possibly top him?!

She'd been this close to becoming Cruz Nichols' wife! And now he was with Adalee—that insufferable woman—it was unbearable!

She swore she'd take Cruz back from Adalee!

Cruz Nichols only married Adalee because she was pregnant. If that problem went away, then maybe...

Miranda smirked, determined to get rid of Adalee's unborn child!

Adalee woke to a change in her surroundings. Gone were the luxurious tones of the hotel suite, replaced by a dimly lit, spacious bedroom—every corner stark and subdued, save for a floral wreath hanging above the bed.

A fog clouded her mind, and she had no memory of how she'd gotten here. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep and a troubling dream.

In that dream, Miranda Jenkins was trying to snatch her newborn daughter away. Adalee fought back and reclaimed her baby, tears of joy streaming down her face as her little one reached out to embrace her, creating a beautifully tender moment.

Just then, the door swung open, and two young maids stepped in.

"Good morning, ma'am. I'm Avery Larson, assigned by Mr. Nichols to be at your service."

"Hi, ma'am. I'm Gia Shaw."

Adalee still felt groggy from her deep sleep, rubbing her temples as she squinted at the two nervous maids, her voice thick with drowsiness. "Where am I?"

Avery beamed. "This is Mr. Nichols' private mansion, ma'am. You're the first woman he's ever brought here!"

Gia nodded like a bobblehead. "Yes, yes! Mr. Nichols carried you in himself! You were like a soft little kitten in his arms, swept off your feet by the handsome Mr. Nichols. It was straight out of a romance novel!"

Adalee smirked. The vivid imagery conjured a scene in her mind. These two were clearly lost in their own romantic fantasies.

She let out a light chuckle. "The mighty CEO, carrying his beloved—sounds like you've read one too many romance novels."

Avery and Gia giggled, scratching their heads.

They couldn't help it. The allure of a powerful CEO was irresistible—and Mr. Nichols embodied it perfectly. How could they not daydream?

Looking at the two starry-eyed maids, Adalee felt a pang of nostalgia. Once upon a time, she'd harbored romantic dreams just like theirs.

But now...

Adalee gently touched her belly. "Where's your master? Where did he go?"

Avery answered, "Mr. Nichols went back to the family estate alone."

Back to the estate? Adalee recalled the fiasco at the wedding. The Nichols family would undoubtedly find her actions outrageous—they were probably wishing she'd never crossed their path.

Thankfully, Cruz hadn't dragged her straight to the estate, sparing her the full onslaught of their questioning.

Adalee was grateful she'd slept through the whole commotion, dodging a heap of trouble.

Suddenly, a thought struck her. "Where's my phone?"

She'd left it on the nightstand in the hotel bridal suite. Hopefully, Cruz had thought to bring it.

Avery spoke up. "Mr. Nichols handed me your phone, ma'am, but he instructed us to make sure you don't use it too much. Too much screen time isn't good for your baby."

Adalee was taken aback by Cruz's attentiveness. He'd even arranged two maids to keep her from burying her face in her phone.

She agreed easily. "Understood. Please give it to me."

Avery handed it over.

Adalee turned it on and was immediately greeted by a headline and a video of her scandalous interruption at the wedding, along with a flood of comments.

"How did someone like Adalee end up with a billionaire like Cruz Nichols? She doesn't deserve him!"

"Yes! Adalee came out of nowhere, no class at all. How can she possibly match the sophisticated Mr. Nichols?"

"I was fine with Cruz marrying Miranda. Miranda's an Ivy League grad, accomplished in the arts—a world above that nobody Adalee."

"Our Mr. Nichols with Adalee? Like a rose in a weed patch. What a shame!"

"Once Adalee pops out the kid, she'll be kicked to the curb!"

"No way a man with Mr. Nichols' standards would truly choose someone like Adalee!"

Adalee replied lazily, "Sour grapes, that's all," and closed the app.

Let them chatter—she was merely an observer.

Then she dialed Mr. Morgan's number.

The call got disconnected.

Frowning, she tried her mother. Same result.

Clearly, Mr. and Mrs. Morgan were conspiring, refusing her calls.

Who knew what poison Miranda was feeding them to make them ignore her altogether?

Determined, she turned to Avery and Gia. "Can one of you lend me a phone for a call?"

Gia immediately offered hers. "Ma'am, use mine."

"Thanks."

Adalee's eyes twinkled as she took the phone and expertly dialed Mr. Morgan's number.

Sure enough, he answered promptly, mistaking the call for a legitimate one.

"Hello, who is this? If you're trying to scam me, I'll report you!"