That evening, Maeve Riley checked into a charming bed-and-breakfast that didn't require ID, and spent two intensive hours hacking into Amazon's firewall. She quickly memorized the emergency exit routes for the building and took note of a janitor's contact info.

The following day, Maeve skillfully "borrowed" the janitor's uniform and elevator card, then wheeled a cart up to the penultimate floor. It was perfect timing, as the company's internal shareholder meeting was in full swing.

This was the pivotal moment.

Maeve pulled out her little one, Eli, from under the cart, took a deep breath, and kicked open the elegant wooden doors of the conference hall with a loud "bang." All eyes turned to her in unison.

There, in the most prestigious seat, Khai Howell sat exuding an aura of unapproachable elegance. His deep-set eyes were sharp and probing, his distinctive nose seemingly crafted by a divine artist. His lips formed a cold line, exuding authority that demanded submission, even without words.

When his detached gaze met hers, Maeve snapped back to reality. Her eyes, slightly tilted beneath her sunglasses, glimmered provocatively. Under the scrutiny of those countless eyes, she strode forward, firmly setting little Eli in front of Khai on the conference table, pointing at him, and shouting without a moment's hesitation.

"You jerk! Four years ago, you left me with a child and vanished. If it weren't for the news, I'd have never known the shameless man who used me for a night was you!"

To make it convincing, Maeve's face brimmed with righteous anger, as if she wanted nothing more than to flay the man before her alive.

But Khai's demeanor turned several degrees colder, his sharp eyes narrowing. His voice, icy and subdued, almost stilled her. "If you're going to lie, make it good. Do you really think I'd be interested in you?!"

His disdain was all too evident.

Maeve remained unfazed. The more he looked down on her, the more determined she felt to teach this arrogant man a lesson.

Maeve sneered, "Ah, the typical playboy move. Sleep with someone and deny it afterward?"

Khai's lips formed a chilling smirk as he retorted, articulating each word with precision, "I've never been with a woman!"

She shot back instantly, "Who are you kidding? Are you saying that at your age, you've never been with a woman? Or is it that you only sleep with men?"

A long silence stretched between them.

Feeling slightly guilty for her bold lie, Maeve decided to play her trump card. "Fine, consider it my bad luck. I don't need you to take responsibility, but you have to care for your son. If you mistreat him, I'll use the DNA test as evidence to sue you for assault!"

Khai's eyes, dark as ink, locked onto Eli's small face. The little guy grinned up at him and sweetly chimed, "Daddy."

Khai felt a throbbing at his temples.

He gritted his teeth, ordering, "Escort these two con artists to the police, and—" Before he could finish saying "the law," a sharp slap echoed across his face.

The "smack" reverberated loudly, causing everyone to break into a cold sweat, fearing they had front-row seats to Khai Howell's career-ending scandal.

Maeve, bold and defiant, delivered her final words, "Khai Howell, the heavens see all your actions. If you can't even acknowledge your own flesh and blood, prepare for your damnation!"

The chaos erupted so quickly that the situation descended into pandemonium. Even the security guards couldn't determine her identity.

Truth be told, the child did bear a striking resemblance to Mr. Howell, especially those eyes—weren't they like mirrors reflecting an uncanny likeness?

After spinning the biggest lie of her life, Maeve walked out of the conference hall without a backward glance. Khai stood tall, his piercing eyes now stormy with fury.

Enraged more than ever, his fingers drummed hard on the table, knuckles white and veins prominent.

"Mr. Howell," the company vice president hesitated to speak.

But Khai's glare stopped him cold.

"Meeting's over. Everyone, out of my sight!"

The company executives rushed to leave, expressions of fear etched on their faces, practically stampeding towards the exits.

In about 30 seconds, the conference hall was empty except for Khai's special assistant, Felipe Lewis, and the little boy who seemed eager to cause more chaos but restrained himself.

"Mr. Howell, are you okay?" Felipe, having witnessed the audacious slap Maeve delivered, was beside himself. "The medical team is on their way, and if you feel any discomfort, I have..." Tranquilizers.

His gaze fell on the innocent-looking boy, and Felipe quickly shut up. This was Mr. Howell's secret; it mustn't be overheard.

Otherwise, at best, it could cause market turmoil; at worst, Amazon could be handed over on a silver platter.

Khai's analytical gaze returned to Eli's face. Now calmer, he realized the boy did bear some resemblance to him.

Was it merely a trick of the mind?

"Have him tested. I want to know within 24 hours if he's really my son!"

"Yes." Felipe carefully escorted the little boy out, handing him to his assistant before closing the conference room door and coming back to Khai's side.

"Mr. Howell, it's been five minutes since she touched you, yet your body shows no signs of change..."

At that moment, Khai stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, his reflection a tall frame with intense, fierce eyes.

For now, they remained dark.

No redness, no physical change.

Felipe wondered aloud, "How did she manage it? Could it be that you're now immune to women, or perhaps cured?"

Rather than answering directly, Khai posed another question, "Did you catch that damned woman?"

"When she slapped you and left, I immediately ordered the lobby exits sealed, but she still slipped away. I'm sorry, Mr. Howell. It was my fault."

"Never mind, let her savor her victory for now. Once I confirm the child isn't mine, I'll make her wish she had never been born."

"But... what if the child turns out to be yours..." Felipe ventured carefully.

Khai's eyes narrowed dangerously. Thinking of the boy placed before him, he did faintly resemble his younger self. Still...

"It's impossible. I've lived with this condition since birth, and unless I've lost my mind, I wouldn't ever touch a woman, let alone do... that kind of thing with her!" Khai Howell had an excellent memory, and he was certain he had never encountered this woman before.

However, four years ago, he had suffered through an experience he wished to forget. But something baffled him: why hadn't he fallen ill after being touched by that woman?

---

Eli Riley, due to his unique circumstances, was escorted to the DNA testing center with great care. The assistant did his best to reassure him, "Hey there, Eli, it'll just be a tiny pinch, promise. And look, I've got a chocolate chip cookie for you if you're brave!"

Eli scrunched his nose at the assistant's overly saccharine tone. "Sir, cookies are so last year."

The assistant, temporarily taken aback, quickly remembered that this young boy might be Mr. Howell's child and tried to appease him like a VIP guest, "Alright then, Eli, what would you prefer?"

Eli didn't miss a beat and replied matter-of-factly, "I'd like some cash."

"Uh..." The assistant hesitated, "I rushed out without my wallet, maybe something else?"

"No worries, sir, you've got your phone, right? Just tap to pay here—one hundred bucks, thanks."

Sweating, the assistant complied, realizing that gaining favor with the right people was worth far more than a hundred dollars.

With the payment sorted, Eli presented his hand while munching on a peculiar "gummy." It was one of Maeve Riley's experimental concoctions—harmless but of uncertain effectiveness.

---

At The Enchanted Vine, Maeve Riley had barely escaped Synergy Corp. To save money, she darted to her part-time job during lunch to snag an employee meal.

Besides keeping her son safe, she needed to earn enough money quickly. Her research proposal had been filed, and an award would pave the way for a fully funded exchange program at Harvard.

In the meantime, she was determined to whip up a new drug, ideally one that could grant Aliza George selective amnesia. If it inadvertently drove Aliza to madness, well, no harm done.

Maeve needed a year's worth of living expenses to take her son abroad and leave Aliza and her gambling-addicted father behind. Research demands a mountain of funds, and her father's gambling habits had drained her accounts.

Determined to turn her frustration into fuel, Maeve devoured three lunch boxes. She'd have eaten more if not for fear of ruining her work uniform, given her inability to afford a replacement.

Once fed, she dove into her job at The Enchanted Vine in search of lucrative tasks. Yet, the unsettling feeling of being watched lingered, as if unseen eyes were constantly upon her.

Was she merely paranoid following the recent stress?

Scanning the room under the dim lights, she saw no danger and grabbed a bottle, opening the door to a private room. Meanwhile, around the corner, a man in black dialed Aliza's number.

“Miss George, I've got her. She's at The Enchanted Vine."

Aliza, filled with fury, smashed the last vase in her room. That woman had made a fool of her before everyone, thanks to that dreadful old man!

Maeve Riley would not be forgiven. Aliza was determined to end her, and then dissect her piece by piece.

“Alright, don't make a move yet. I want to handle her myself!"

“Yes, ma'am."

After hanging up, Aliza summoned the family doctor to treat her injuries. Her body was covered in bruises, especially her legs, making walking difficult. Otherwise, she'd have gone after Maeve immediately.

In front of the dressing mirror, Aliza's reflection was devilish, her blood-red lips twisted with venomous hatred.

“Maeve Riley, tomorrow will be your reckoning!"

---

The following afternoon at Synergy Corp, Khai Howell sat in the CEO's chair, fingers against his chiseled chin. His eyes, fixed on his MacBook screen, had a profound, unreadable depth.

His phone rang suddenly. He picked it up and swiped to answer.

"Khai, clear your schedule after 7 p.m. Your grandmother's organized a meeting with Miss Mayhew. She's perfect for someone of your status and looks. You can't bury yourself in work; you need a suitable partner."

"No need," Khai replied dismissively. "I'm not interested in women."

His grandfather's usually calm voice grew frustrated, "You're 29. Look at Duke—women chased him from age seven, yet you won't even approach a female dog. My only wish is to see you settled. But you won't be satisfied until I'm in my grave!"

Jovanni Shaw's famous temper spared no one, including his beloved grandson.

But Khai remained unmoved, "Grandpa, if you want more grandchildren, perhaps you and Grandma should consider having another child. Modern medicine has come far; another direct descendant is quite feasible."

The sound of a cane striking the floor echoed from the phone, "You ungrateful child!"

“If there's nothing else, I'll return to work."

Khai nearly hung up when his grandfather's voice thundered through the receiver, "If Miss Mayhew doesn't see you at the Watercolor Pavilion tonight at 7, never set foot in the Shaw house again!"

Frustrated, Jovanni Shaw abruptly ended the call.

Amid the dial tone, Khai sighed deeply, rubbing his temples in resignation.

A knock sounded at the door, and Felipe Lewis entered with a stack of test reports.

“Mr. Howell, the blood test results for you and the child are ready."

Khai nodded, taking the reports and carefully unwinding the red cord that bound them.

As he reviewed the results, he felt no surprise, having expected the outcome: no genetic ties with the child. He had pursued this investigation to gather evidence against the woman who dared tarnish his reputation.

But when he reached the final number on the report, his steady gaze wavered, pupils contracting in shock.

DNA Match Result: 99.999%?!

"Khai, congratulations, you're a father."

Felipe was just about to offer his congratulations when Khai Howell shot him a cold glare.

"Are you sure these test results are accurate?" Khai was incredulous. He hadn't even been intimate with her; how could she have had his child?

"Sir, the hospital conducting the tests belongs to one of your private enterprises, and I oversaw the entire process—from the handling of blood samples to their analysis—with trusted personnel. There's no chance of any mistakes."

The results were undoubtedly correct.

The intimidating aura surrounding Khai instantly cooled as he spoke slowly, "You really think I could do something like this given my condition?"

"Sir, I would have considered it impossible before. However, yesterday in the conference room, when that woman touched you, there was no allergic reaction from your body. It suggests she might be unique in your life."

There was also the possibility that the woman somehow obtained Khai's genetic material and underwent artificial insemination to have their child. But Felipe hadn't dared to share this theory with Khai, given Khai's unapproachability, akin to a snow-capped mountain, which deterred socialites from approaching.

Over time, many in the company had gossiped about Felipe being the object of envy.

Their insinuations weren't subtle.

To prevent misunderstandings about being seen as unavailable, he felt it was crucial to provide insight into Khai's romantic life. So, his current plan was to subtly encourage Khai to engage more with the woman who had his child.

Felipe's internal calculations were almost palpable.

In front of him, Khai crumpled the report tightly in his hands. "Where's the child?"

"I've already sent someone to bring the young master from the hotel. Since he belongs to the Howell family, it's inappropriate for him to remain elsewhere for long. How about..."

Khai interrupted coldly, "Do you like him that much? Then let him stay at your place."

"No, no!" Felipe broke into a nervous sweat, "I just meant that a child separated from his mother for the first time might already be scared and anxious. Keeping him in a hotel could lead to issues."

Khai considered this briefly, "Send him to The Haven."

The Haven was Khai's luxurious mansion in New York, vast and secure as a fortress. Sending the child there would at least ensure his safety.

Felipe eagerly agreed, "Yes, sir."

"And her?"

Her? Who was he referring to?

Felipe didn't immediately grasp Khai's meaning but eventually nodded, "Do you mean the young lady? Her identity remains unknown, but yesterday, we found some janitor uniforms discarded in a hidden corner of the parking garage. By retracing her steps, we believe the young lady disguised herself as a cleaner to infiltrate the conference room. Following her movements, and by tracking all the vehicles during that period, we've identified a taxi and pinpointed her location."

"Where is she?" Khai's voice was low and smoldering with anger.

His tone was like shards of ancient ice, sending a chill through Felipe, "At the Starry Night Bar."

"She leaves my child with me and immediately goes to a bar?!"

"Sir, there might be some misunderstanding here." Felipe quickly defended the future Mrs. Howell.

"Hmph, misunderstanding? She's clearly courting trouble!" With a flick of his right hand, Khai sent the test report fluttering to the floor. "Get the car ready!"

Felipe had never seen Khai this furious before. He clutched his racing heart, nodding repeatedly.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, the Starry Night Bar was hosting a Valentine's Day event.

Most attendees were young professionals looking for a night of fun. Anticipating this, the bar owner introduced a bold and exciting game.

The rules were simple: Teams of six could form groups, and the first person in each group had to pass a slip of paper from mouth to mouth. The team completing this in the shortest time would win a cash prize of $12,000.

If the slip was dropped, the team would lose.

Maeve Riley, ready to finish her shift and head to another job, hurried off the noisy dance floor when a fellow waitress tapped her shoulder.

Turning, she saw her colleague, "Maeve, want to join? The winning team splits $12,000, that's $2,000 each."

Two thousand dollars was a significant amount for Maeve at the moment.

But—

"People who play these games aren't usually serious. There's no assurance they won't 'accidentally' drop the slip and actually kiss you."

"Oh, you're worried about that? No worries, if we're at the back, we won't get kissed. Maeve, you know how much my grandmother needs this money. Please, please," her colleague pleaded, eyes watery.

Maeve fluttered her eyelashes, knowing she needed the money too. Her colleague made a good point; strategic positioning could avoid unwanted contact.

"Alright," she agreed, finally.

When Maeve appeared at the event, several men from other groups eyed her hungrily.

This woman, with her striking beauty, exuded an innocence that made her irresistibly attractive when poised.

Few could blend purity with allure as seamlessly as she could.

Ignoring the speculative looks, Maeve silently took the fifth position in her team.

Her colleague was in the fourth spot, and in the sixth was a tall, unassuming man in a white T-shirt.

As the mechanical timer counted down, the competition began. Five teams participated, with at least three barely making an effort, opting instead to flirt openly.

Within the first minute, some men deliberately dropped their slips, using the opportunity to kiss the women beside them freely.

The scene was scandalous. But Maeve's focus tonight was solely on the prize money.

She swiftly took the slip from her colleague's mouth, who managed a quick breath to encourage her.

Maeve gave her a determined nod before turning to pass the slip to the man behind her in the white T-shirt.

Her anxious eyes met a pair of deep, captivating eyes.

Khai Howell? How could it be him?

Khai was caught off-guard by the sight of her natural, makeup-free face. But seeing her in a form-fitting black dress, participating in a kissing game, his sharp eyes narrowed.

He accused, "You left the child with me just to come here and play games?"

With one sentence, he judged her entirely.

In her shock, Maeve's mind could only form one fleeting thought...