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!"

Adalee's lips twisted into a wry line. "…Dad, it's me."

Hearing his daughter's voice only made Palmer Morgan's blood boil. "You—you stubborn child! Do you have any idea how ridiculous you made us look today at that wedding? Not only did you turn your sister Miranda into a laughingstock across the whole city, but you embarrassed the Nichols family too. They're furious, and they're demanding answers from us. You caused this disaster, so you can explain it to them. Your mother and I are staying out of it."

Adalee frowned. "Dad, Miranda was the one who tried to take my place and marry Cruz Nichols. Why aren't you calling her out on that?"

Palmer snapped back, "Miranda told me everything. It was just a misunderstanding with Cruz—she had nothing to do with it. Besides, if you'd told us from the start that the baby you're carrying is Cruz's, none of this would've happened. This mess is yours to fix, and you will fix it. Once that's settled, come back and apologize to your sister. Miranda has a good heart—she'll forgive you, I'm sure."

Adalee felt the words land like a slap. The injustice of being told to apologize to Miranda settled deep in her chest, heavy and bitter. She wanted to confront her sister right then and there. But she knew her parents were completely under Miranda's spell—and it would take time to peel back the mask and show them who their precious daughter really was.

She touched her belly gently, her voice calm but firm. "Dad, I'll give you a satisfactory explanation."

She couldn't tell them yet that the child was Cruz's—she'd only learned that truth at the end of her previous life. But when the time was right, she'd expose Miranda's lies.

Palmer thought she was finally listening, and his tone softened a notch. "Tonight's your wedding night, and I don't want to argue with you. Try to get along with Cruz, and stop acting so reckless. Remember you're a married woman now. Understand?"

Despite everything, warmth flickered inside her. "I understand, Dad."

He hung up, and Adalee took a deep breath, the sting of unshed tears burning behind her eyes. Even though her father was wrapped around Miranda's finger, deep down she believed he truly did care.

In her previous life, her parents had left everything to her in their will before their tragic deaths—Miranda got nothing but an empty shell of a company. Maybe, in the end, they'd finally seen her sister's true colors. Or maybe they'd suspected their deaths weren't just accidents…

Adalee lowered her lashes, her gaze cooling into something sharp and determined. No matter what, she'd already changed the course of her past life. She would protect her parents with everything she had—and make sure they never walked that path again.

Meanwhile, back at the Nichols estate, Cruz Nichols had barely stepped through the door when his mother, Madeleine Nichols, summoned him into the study for a lecture.

"What were you thinking, marrying like that on a whim? How could you choose to bind yourself to such an unworthy woman?" Madeleine, still elegant in her Victorian-style wedding dress, looked barely a day over forty at fifty—outshining women half her age.

She tossed a file onto the desk in front of him. Cruz picked it up and flipped through it—rumors about Adalee, scandals, claims that she was uneducated, quick to fight, tied to the wrong crowd.

Cruz set the file down, unshaken. "Mom, these are just rumors. There's no real evidence tying her to any of it. They could easily be false."

Madeleine let out a cold laugh. "Rumors don't just appear out of thin air. Who knows what she's actually been up to? I'm telling you now—make sure you get a paternity test. If that girl has deceived us, I'll deal with her myself."

Cruz's brow tightened. His voice dropped. "I understand. I'll handle it."

Madeleine pressed on. "Even if the child is ours, given all her baggage, we can't keep her in this family. Wait until she gives birth, then find a way to divorce her. Offer her compensation for the child, if we must."

Cruz said nothing, turning to walk out.

"Did you hear me, Cruz?" she called after him.

But her son's cool, commanding silhouette had already disappeared through the study door.

She let out a frustrated sigh.

Elsewhere, Adalee had barely woken up when her stomach let out a low growl.

A warm smile curved her lips. Her baby was hungry, demanding to be fed. Memories from her past life crept back—locked away by Miranda, starving and desperate, yet she'd held on for her child's sake. She'd survived on pure willpower, managed to give birth… only for Miranda to snatch her baby away.

Adalee's fists clenched. She swallowed the ache of that memory. This time, she would feed her child well, raise it strong and healthy, and protect its birth with everything she had.

She turned to Avery and Gia. "Is the meal ready?"

Avery answered cheerfully, "Yes, ma'am. We had dinner prepared for you."

Adalee nodded and got out of bed.

A pair of pink cotton slippers sat waiting for her—shaped like bunnies, complete with fluffy little tails and ears. Cute. Girlish. So soft they almost made her heart melt.

The sight cracked through the armor Adalee had built around her heart, and her eyes lit up with a rare, genuine sparkle.

Noticing her pleasure, Gia smiled and explained, "Mr. Nichols arranged everything for you—the clothes, the food, the maternity gear. He even had the housekeeper put together a whole shopping list."

"Oh." Adalee nodded coolly, sliding her bare feet into the cozy slippers.

They were plush and warm. She couldn't help but like them.

Maybe she'd been too harsh on Cruz.

Adalee followed the maids down to the dining room on the ground floor. The moment she stepped inside, dozens of eyes landed on her.

Freshly rested, her flawless skin had a healthy glow—like a flower blooming, impossibly sweet. There was no denying it: she was stunning.

More than a few servants couldn't help but wonder about her beauty.

But even with that face, the rumors about her past—running with different men, causing trouble—cast a long shadow. They said she'd sullied Cruz Nichols' name. And now, for the sake of her child, this powerful man had to put up with it all, sheltering her, providing for her, while whispers followed him everywhere.

Avery broke the silence. "What are you standing around for? Serve the lady her meal!"

Suddenly, a cold voice cut through the room. "And she's supposed to be our lady of the house?"