Forrest had already taken off for work. As I made my way down the grand staircase, one of the maids—dressed in a crisp, classic uniform—greeted me with forced politeness. "Good morning, Mrs. Murphy."

The staff here, like everyone else in the Murphy household, were always courteous but distant. They treated me with that chilly, reserved respect that comes from my awkward place in this family.

I knew exactly what they thought of me.

After all, my father was notorious, a walking scandal, and my mother had been the other woman. Me? Unmarried and already a mother to Forrest's child. And to top it off, I'd married him for money to have another baby.

Let them look down on me—I was staying anyway.

Because when I was seventeen, I fell hopelessly, stupidly in love with Forrest Murphy. And for our little boy.

After breakfast, I wandered into the sprawling gardens, hoping to catch a glimpse of my son. No school today. The Murphy estate gardens were like something out of an English manor painting—vivid blossoms soaking up the sun, their heady perfume drifting on the air.

Luck was on my side. Up ahead, I spotted the nanny with Little Sam.

At three, he was an angelic vision—but delicate, his cheeks pale and sickly in a way that twisted my heart with love and pain.

Oh, my sweet boy. Don't you worry. I'll save you. I swear it.

Sam wasn't much of a talker. No matter how the nanny cooed and coaxed, his little face stayed stoic, reserved—just like his cold, hard father.

Seeing him was a rare, precious joy. I moved toward him carefully, my heart slamming against my ribs.

When the nanny looked away, I bent down and whispered, "Hey, handsome little man!" I reached out, aching to touch his tiny hand.

But Sam was ever the vigilant one. He pulled back in a flash, his dark eyes swimming with wary suspicion.

Like father, like son.

I tried to inch closer, but the nanny caught me.

"Sam, come here right now!" she gasped, scooping him up like I was some kind of threat. She hurried back toward the main house without a backward glance.

Watching my son being carried away like that? It shattered me.

Dejected, I dragged myself back to the villa to get ready for Sophie Mitchell's birthday party that afternoon.

Sophie's party was held in a stunning hall—champagne towers rising high, fairy lights twinkling overhead, and tables piled with exquisite food. The room buzzed with chatter and laughter.

After wishing Sophie a happy birthday and handing over my gift, I slipped away to the quieter buffet corner for something good to eat.

"You should try the steak—it's killer here," a voice said.

I turned. A guy in trendy streetwear stood beside me, sharp features set off by a bold streak of blonde. His smile was way too bright and way too mischievous.

"Thanks," I said flatly, grabbing a glass of juice and stepping away.

"Has anyone ever told you you're absolutely stunning? I mean, crazy beautiful," he pressed, all enthusiasm.

"Has anyone ever told you your pickup lines are seriously from the Stone Age?" I shot back, trying to shake him off.

He followed, eyes sweeping over me head to toe. "I'm serious. You're breathtaking."

I stopped, swirling my drink, and let him look his fill. "I'm married. You're wasting your time."

His expression flickered—a blush creeping up before he let out a low chuckle. "Andy Jennings. We're definitely destined to meet again."

Destined, my ass.

I smirked, heading for a secluded lounge at the edge of the hall, desperate for an escape from his persistence.

Andy watched me go, his gaze fixed on my retreat like I was the most interesting thing he'd seen all night.

I settled into the quietest corner I could find, savoring my juice in peace. Most guests were too busy showing off in the main hall to bother me.

A waiter in uniform approached with a tray of delicacies. "You're a guest of Miss Mitchell's, correct?" he asked politely.

"Yes."

"Please, enjoy." He set the tray down and left.

Now that was service.

I lost myself in the food and the solitude—juicy steak, succulent shrimp—every bite a little slice of heaven.

After I'd eaten my fill, a drowsy warmth crept over me. I meant to get up, go home, and crash, but my eyelids grew heavy. Before I knew it, my head was on the table, out cold.

Outside the lounge, two men in hotel uniforms had been waiting. The moment they saw me asleep, they slipped in. Quietly, they lifted me and started toward a pre-booked room upstairs—fast.

"Ouch!" one of them yelped as he was suddenly thrown off balance. "Who the hell dares mess with my plan?" he snarled, spinning around.

Standing there was the same young guy from before, still in streetwear, blonde streak catching the light. He looked equal parts cool and dangerous.

"Who are you? What the hell do you think you're doing?" The sleazy man scrambled to his feet, ready to throw down.

Andy Jennings crossed his arms, fixing the slimy man with a look of pure disgust. "Who sent you? How much are they paying you?"

The man feigned innocence. "I have no clue what you're talking about. You need to leave, or I'm calling the cops."

"Go ahead. Call them," Andy shot back with a confident smirk. "The woman inside is my girlfriend. You drugged her in broad daylight to assault her. Let's see who ends up in cuffs first."

The man's eyes darted nervously toward the door. "Tell me who sent you, or I'm calling them myself!" Andy's smile vanished, replaced by a hard, steely glare.

Panic flooded the man's face as he stammered, "Please, spare me! I was forced… they made me do it…"

He inched toward the door, and when Andy's attention flickered for just a second, he bolted. Andy took off after him but lost him in the chaos. Not wanting to leave me alone for too long, he decided to drop it and headed back to the room.

I was still on the bed, lost in a deep sleep. My long lashes lay still, and my pale skin seemed to glow softly in the dim light, giving me an almost ethereal look. The sight made Andy's heart race. He quickly yanked open the curtains, then grabbed a wet towel and gently dabbed my face, eager to rouse me.

The cold towel jolted me awake. Blinking my eyes open, I found a handsome young face hovering over me. "Wha… what are you doing here?"

Andy raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "I told you we'd meet again, didn't I?"

My head was still spinning from whatever they'd slipped me, and my body felt like lead. Slowly, the events leading up to this moment came swimming back. Rage surged through me. "Did you spike my drink and drag me to this hotel?"

Andy put on a wounded expression. "A guy can't even be a good Samaritan without getting accused these days! Miss, I just saved you. You were drugged and almost assaulted. They were even planning to film it."

I stared at him, still skeptical.

Andy snatched the camera off the nightstand and played back the footage. "See for yourself. Don't jump to conclusions."

As I watched, horror and disbelief flooded through me.

Realizing I'd misjudged Andy, a wave of gratitude washed over me. "I'm sorry, I misunderstood. Thank you for saving me. I can't even imagine what would have happened…" Who could hate me enough to stoop to something so vile?

"It's nothing, really," Andy said with his usual nonchalant shrug. "Do you need me to call someone for you?"

"No, thank you!" I shook my head quickly, knowing this was something I absolutely couldn't let the Murphys find out about.

"How about I take you to the hospital? You don't look so good," Andy offered, noticing how I kept rubbing my temples.

"No need, thank you. I'll just splash some water on my face," I said, still woozy. I managed to stagger off the bed and head to the bathroom.

After splashing cold water on my face, I felt a little more alert. I dried my face hastily, desperate to put this whole ordeal behind me.

"Thank you for everything. I have to go now. My friends are waiting," I said to Andy politely.

He gave me a curious look, as if I were a delicate angel standing by a tranquil lake, radiating beauty and vulnerability.

As I left the room, a lingering sense of shame clung to me. I was in no mood to go back to Sophie's party, so I stepped outside instead, gulping the fresh air like I'd narrowly escaped death. Who would do this to me? I frowned, thinking hard. The only person who came to mind was Fiona Murphy. That venomous bitch! I seethed internally, but without proof, I had to just chalk it up to shitty luck.

Just then, my phone rang. Forrest Murphy.

Seeing his name flash on the screen, a wave of vulnerability crashed over me, and tears welled in my eyes. God, how I ached to tell Forrest what just happened, to have him hold me and whisper that it was all okay. I took a shaky breath and answered, fighting to keep my voice steady. "Hello?"

"Where are you?" His deep voice carried that familiar edge of authority, even beneath its warmth.

The words snapped me back to reality, dousing my fleeting fantasy like ice water. I gripped my coat tighter, steadying myself. "I'm at a friend's birthday party."

"My sister's son is back from overseas. There's a family dinner tonight. Be home by five."

"Okay, I will."

And just like that, he hung up.

Standing there, surrounded by bustling strangers, reality hit me with a fresh wave of pain. The man I loved so deeply, my husband, remained cold and distant when I needed him most—just out of reach, like always.

I didn't want to start a fight with my mother-in-law, so I shot a desperate look at the only person in the room who could save me—Forrest Murphy. But Forrest's face was hard as stone, his dark eyes giving me nothing.

I bit my lip, torn between just turning and heading upstairs, but I couldn't stomach missing this rare chance to be with my kid. Swallowing my frustration, I quietly sank into a chair nearby.

“Come here, sweetheart, let Auntie give you a hug!” Fiona Murphy's voice oozed warmth as she called to Little Sam.

Little Sam clearly knew Fiona well; after a tiny pause, he toddled over to her.

“Such a good boy!” Fiona cooed, scooping him up and planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Sam and Fiona really do have a special bond. If he goes even a day without seeing her, he's constantly asking for Aunt Fiona!” Forrest's mom, Renata Jordan, gushed with a glow, obviously head over heels for Fiona.

“Well then, I'll just have to drop by every day to keep my little Sam company. How does that sound, darling?” Fiona purred, handing Little Sam a brand-new toy gun.

The minute Sam saw the toy, he lit up and started playing with it. With Fiona egging him on, he nodded happily.

“See? Sam absolutely adores Fiona. She's so sweet and polite; I just love her to pieces. If only things had turned out differently back then…” Renata Jordan sighed, throwing a pointed side-eye my way, “none of this mess would've happened. Some people just never should have stepped into the picture!”

“Mother, everything's fine the way it is. We've got Little Sam, the best kid in the world,” Fiona replied smoothly.

“Exactly. We have Sam, and since Fiona dotes on him, we'll just keep on living happily as one big, happy family,” Renata Jordan said, her words cutting deep.

My heart clenched so hard I could barely breathe, watching my son perched on Fiona's lap, hugging her like she was his whole world. Fiona might've been the one stirring the pot today, but there was my little boy, grinning from ear to ear in her arms.

Fear crawled up my spine as I thought about the future, about Sam growing up thinking Fiona was his real mom. Fiona would twist anything and anyone to get what she wanted, no doubt about it.

Desperation clawed at me. I couldn't let my son end up with her.

I glanced over at Forrest, kicked back on the sofa, his eyes soft as he watched Fiona with the kid, totally blind to the storm raging inside me.

Gathering every ounce of courage I had, I stood up and stepped forward, but Renata Jordan shot me an icy glare. “What do you think you're doing?”

“Mom, what do I have to do for you to let me see my own child?” My voice cracked, thick with emotion.

Renata Jordan let out a scoff. “Nothing you do will ever change a thing. Your whole family is nothing but a pack of liars, and I won't have you poisoning that innocent boy.”

My eyes went wide, blazing with fury I could barely keep down.

Right then, Forrest's piercing gaze locked on me. “Don't forget our little arrangement. Your father walked away with a huge chunk of my money. You're just a surrogate in the Murphy household—nothing more, nothing less.”

His words hit me like a freight train, and my clenched fists shook with helpless grief.

Just then, someone from the main house came to tell Renata Jordan and Forrest dinner was ready. Renata Jordan and Forrest headed out first, taking the child with them.

Fiona hung back on purpose, her smirk radiating pure satisfaction as she took in my pale face. “Look at you, still trying to act all confident in front of me? You're just the Murphy wife on paper. Don't kid yourself into thinking you're actually part of this family. Here, you're nobody.”

I took a deep breath, gathering my strength, and shot Fiona a look of pure disgust. “If I was really such a nobody, you wouldn't have stooped so low to hurt me.”

Fiona flinched, her cool composure cracking. “What are you talking about? I have no idea what you mean.”

“People who haven't done anything wrong have nothing to hide,” I shot back, my voice steady as a rock.

Fiona's eyes narrowed, turning venomous. “And what if I did? You know my family's influence. Use that brain of yours and walk away from the Murphys, or one day, I'll make sure you just... vanish.”

“You think I'm scared of your threats?” I let out a dry laugh. “Don't forget—I'm Sam's mother. He's my shield. You lay a finger on me, and Forrest will be the first one hunting you down.”

Fiona froze, a flicker of doubt crossing her face.

I let out a soft, derisive snort, holding my chin high as I walked out.

The grand hall of the mansion was dripping in luxury, polished marble floors catching the sparkle of crystal chandeliers overhead, while towering mirrors on the walls added a breathtaking brilliance.

A ton of guests had already arrived, chatting and laughing in small clusters. I stood off in a corner, just watching it all unfold.

Then, my heart nearly stopped—a familiar face jumped out at me in the crowd. Andy Jennings, the blonde guy who'd helped me at the hotel!

Panic ripped through me as I realized the absolute disaster it'd be if Andy decided to spill what happened.

I zeroed in on Andy, straining to catch his conversation with the people around him, only to find out he was Forrest's sister's son.

Oh. My. God.

I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

Just as I was struggling to keep it together, Andy sauntered over, flashing that signature mischievous grin. “Told ya we'd cross paths again.”

Sensing zero malice from him, I pulled myself together and smiled. “Yep, guess we're just destined to keep running into each other. But you really oughta call me Aunt.”

“Aunt…” Andy echoed, the word clearly freaking him out.

“Yup!” I chirped, winking at him. “Behave, and I'll slip you a red envelope.”

Andy leaned in, voice low. “Is this hush money?”

“Smart kid!” A wave of relief washed right over me.

We were still whispering back and forth when someone announced dinner was served, and everyone started finding their seats.

Not the whole Murphy clan was at dinner. Forrest's grandma was wrapped up in some spiritual retreat upstairs, his dad was still overseas, and his brother was off on business.

Since Forrest and I were husband and wife, we ended up side by side, but Fiona was parked on his other side, making it look like the guy had two wives.

Throughout dinner, the Murphys showered Fiona with attention, piling food on her plate and hanging on her every word.

Me? I was obviously on the outside looking in.

“This fish is divine, and practically boneless!” Fiona chirped sweetly at Forrest.

“I know you hate dealing with bones, so I had someone specially breed this one. Super easy to eat,” Forrest replied, offering Fiona a rare, tender smile.

“Whoever said Forrest is all work and no play is dead wrong—look at how beautifully he looks after his wife!” Renata Jordan declared, hitting the word 'wife' hard.

Everyone at the table chimed right in, nodding along.

Fiona practically glowed with happiness, flashing a glance my way.

I just kept eating my favorite pulled pork, but every bite tasted like cardboard.

A few beats later, Fiona took another bite of fish, suddenly gagged, and bolted for the restroom, hand clamped over her mouth.

Forrest's sisters, Lucy and Mary, shot up after her, while Forrest paused mid-motion, brows knitting together with worry as he stared at the restroom door.

The hospital where Renata Jordan's family held shares—anything inside those walls could be arranged at the snap of her fingers. Knowing how utterly drained Izaiah Hansen and Renata were, and that they wouldn't leave the hospital while still fretting over me, Renata had the VIP rooms right next to mine opened up so they could rest.

When Izaiah finally stepped into that big, bright room, it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. It was still a hospital room, sure, but compared to what he'd just been through, it felt like paradise.

Looking back on the kidnapping, it had been an absolute nightmare.

Izaiah figured Forrest was probably worried sick about him, and he wanted to call and tell him I was safe. But it was late, and I was almost definitely asleep. If he called now, he'd just wake me up, and Forrest would be pissed.

After thinking it over, Izaiah decided to just send a text. “Bro, you've been through a lot. I'm fine, and she saved Renata too. No immediate danger, I promise.”

Izaiah assumed Forrest would be crashed out and wouldn't see it till morning. To his shock, Forrest shot back instantly, “Got it. Get some rest.”

Clearly, Forrest had been sitting there waiting, not sleeping a wink despite the late hour.

A wave of emotion hit Izaiah hard—Forrest must have been just as strung out, feeling the strain of the past few days.

“Bro, you get some rest too!” Izaiah texted back, swiping at his eyes before heading to shower.

Taking a hot shower used to be the most mundane thing in the world. Now, it felt like a luxury beyond words.

As the water washed over him, Izaiah's tension finally started to ease, but his thoughts drifted back to Princess Anna. A heavy sigh came out of him.

Maybe he and Anna really just weren't meant to be.

Izaiah had made his choice—he wouldn't marry anyone but Princess Anna. Even if the royal family kept rejecting him, he'd stay. Every day they said no, he'd try again the next. Every year, he'd be right there.

But his stubbornness had set off a chain reaction, dragging Izaiah and Renata into danger, stressing out Forrest and his wife back home.

His hunger to chase after Princess Anna started to fizzle. He couldn't risk anyone else suffering, or worse, losing their lives over his mission.

Even though the recent chaos was totally unexpected, an accident like this could never be allowed to happen again.

Despite being dead tired, Izaiah couldn't sleep for long, tossing and turning with too many thoughts. After barely two hours of rest, he was up before the crack of dawn.

He had his assistant bring clean clothes for himself and Izaiah, then changed before going to check on Renata's recovery room.

The quietness was actually a relief—no news meant Renata's condition must be stable. If things were bad, someone would've told him by now.

Sure enough, when he walked in, he was greeted by Renata chatting away cheerfully with a doctor and her father, Mr. Ryan. “Dr. Collins, can my daughter have anything to eat or drink? Her lips are so dry.”

“My treatment won't interfere with what she can have, but since Miss Renata's had major surgery, you should confirm with her surgeon. For now, you can just moisten her lips with a damp cotton swab,” Dr. Collins answered calmly.

“Alright, I'll do that right away,” Ryan said, relief flooding his face.

Ryan now saw Dr. Collins as something of a miracle worker, hanging on his every word.

Renata, despite being proud and a bit haughty, found herself totally drawn in by Dr. Collins' smarts and chill demeanor during the hours they'd spent together.

Friendships flourish between equals, and Renata—a woman of massive power and wealth—rarely met anyone who could match her. But Dr. Collins was a brilliant healer, and even Renata wasn't immune to getting sick. She was eager to build a real connection with someone that talented.

During their conversation, Dr. Collins pieced together that Renata was Izaiah's aunt, the one who'd raised him after his parents died and basically ran his business empire.

Once he realized how huge Renata's role was in Izaiah's life, and how much Izaiah adored his aunt, Dr. Collins made a real effort to engage her, putting his best self forward.

With both of them genuinely wanting to click, the two found their chat getting more and more enjoyable over those hours at Renata's bedside.

When Izaiah entered, he saw Renata and Dr. Collins sitting close together, talking like old friends, while Ryan hovered nearby taking care of her—it all looked so cozy and harmonious.

But the second he appeared, Ryan and Dr. Collins tensed up, and Renata shifted her position, making Izaiah feel like he'd just crashed a peaceful scene.

Though Dr. Collins hadn't slept a wink all night, his face lit up the moment he saw Izaiah, eyes practically sparkling with delight.

Renata asked with genuine affection, “Izaiah, did you rest at all? Why are you up already?”

Izaiah nodded. “I feel fine after getting some shut-eye. How's Renata?”

Ryan jumped in eagerly, “Master Izaiah, Dr. Collins truly is a miracle worker. Renata woke half an hour ago, already looking so much better than yesterday—she even talked to us!”

Dr. Collins noted that her powerful will to live had been crucial to her recovery.

Izaiah was over the moon at the news, turning to Dr. Collins for confirmation. “Has she really pulled through?”

Even though he was an expert in his field, Dr. Collins felt a flutter of nerves under Izaiah's intense stare. “Based on her current state, I'd say she's about seventy percent out of the woods. If she wakes up again later, we can be a hundred percent sure.”

“Fantastic—thank you, Dr. Collins. You've honestly blown us all away. You're incredible,” Izaiah praised with total sincerity.

Dr. Collins had been showered with compliments his whole career, but none felt as precious as those few words from Izaiah.

He gave Izaiah a shy smile, momentarily at a loss for words.

Just then, Ryan's phone started buzzing—it was his wife calling. Unaware of Renata's injuries, she'd probably gotten worried after not being able to reach her earlier.

Not wanting to take the call in front of Izaiah and Renata, Ryan excused himself and hurried outside.

Renata, always sharp, took note of Ryan's behavior, her instincts instantly telling her the call had to do with his secret child. Ryan's secrecy just confirmed how huge a deal it was.

The thought of that child sparked a thrill of excitement in Renata—her joy just multiplied, with Renata pulling through and Izaiah becoming a dad. Everything felt ridiculously, beautifully perfect.

Izaiah paid zero attention to Ryan's call, his focus locked on Renata.

Once they were alone with Dr. Collins, Izaiah dropped his voice and asked, “Dr. Collins, will there be any fallout from you being away from Renata's?”

Dr. Collins hesitated just a beat before reassuring Izaiah, fully understanding that while Renata's case was critical, to Izaiah, Renata came first. Nothing—not even her life being on the line—stacked up to Renata's well-being.