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.

Fiona's sudden retching made understanding flash in Renata Jordan's eyes.

Soon, Fiona returned, her face pale. She offered a polite smile to everyone at the table. "Sorry if I ruined anyone's meal."

"Are you okay?" Forrest asked, concern etched on his face as he looked her over.

"I'm fine," Fiona reassured him, but the smell of the pulled pork in front of her made her gag again, and she rushed back to the bathroom.

Watching Fiona, Renata Jordan's eyes brightened with a hint of excitement, and she quickly instructed the staff to summon the family doctor.

Given their wealth, the Murphys had a private doctor on call, and he arrived shortly to examine Fiona.

The preliminary diagnosis was delivered—Fiona was pregnant.

Fiona was pregnant.

It felt like a lightning bolt had struck right beside me, sending my heart plummeting.

The room buzzed with excitement. Fiona's cheeks flushed as she smiled sweetly at Forrest.

Forrest's usually inscrutable demeanor softened as he gazed at Fiona's still-flat belly with interest.

Renata Jordan removed her antique pearl bracelet, a family heirloom, and slipped it onto Fiona's wrist. "Fiona, though the Murphys owe you a proper ceremony, this bracelet is a family treasure, meant for the eldest daughter-in-law. Once that other woman is out of the picture... I'll make sure you and Forrest have the perfect wedding."

Fiona lowered her eyes shyly, a smile playing on her lips. "Thank you, Mom."

Fear gripped me. If Fiona gave Forrest a healthy son, my sick little Sam might be pushed aside.

In a family like the Murphys, where wealth and prestige meant everything, there was no room for sentiment—only survival of the fittest.

Panic surged through me. I looked around wildly for my child.

Usually surrounded by doting relatives, Little Sam now sat alone on the sofa with only a nanny nearby. Everyone else had flocked around Fiona, showering her with attention.

My heart ached as I hurried toward Sam, but before I could reach him, the nanny swiftly scooped him up and whisked him away.

That night, Fiona was the center of attention, the family's excitement over a new heir making her the star. It wasn't until Forrest finally said, "Fiona needs rest, and we're all tired. Let's call it a night," that people reluctantly drifted away from her.

Per Renata Jordan's arrangements, Fiona was given the best room in the house, one overlooking the garden—a place where she would spend the night.

I had assumed Forrest would stay at the estate with Fiona, but instead, he returned to the villa we shared.

I followed him back to the villa, my expression tight, my emotions churning.

Forrest acted as if he hadn't noticed my displeasure, heading straight for the shower like nothing was wrong.

My anger suddenly felt less justified, realizing Forrest always saw me as demanding more than I deserved. His indifferent attitude made that clear.

"The arrangement is done. Go get your money back from whoever you gave it to," I snapped, turning to leave.

Forrest moved fast, pinning me to the bed, his weight a crushing reminder of his dominance.

His eyes bore into mine, and my attempt to hold back tears was futile.

His grip on my wrists softened slightly, some unspoken thing passing between us.

"Enough with the drama," he warned. "This is the last time."

"I want to see Sam. If you don't let me, I swear I'll never give you another child, even if it kills me!" Tears filled my eyes, my voice firm.

"You dare threaten me?" His eyes turned icy, his voice dangerously low.

Forrest finally realized he'd lost his composure today. Normally, he was careful to keep his strength and actions within Gianna's comfort zone, mindful of how young she was. But maybe it was the few drinks, a little buzz that made him slip. His brows drew together as he got out of bed and headed for the shower.

I lay sprawled across the huge bed, utterly drained and sore, and feeling completely wronged. If Sam weren't so sick, I'd have walked out of this house right then.

Forrest came back from his shower soon after, looking like he was about to head out. He stood with his back to me, getting dressed.

I couldn't help but let my eyes wander over his silhouette. Over six feet tall, broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, his back carved with lean muscle. The line of his spine disappeared into the low waistband of his pants. Damn! He was breathtaking in a way I just couldn't ignore.

I was so caught up staring that when Forrest suddenly turned and faced me, my eyes went wide. He'd caught me, dead to rights.

I whipped my gaze away, my face flaming with embarrassment. What a mortifying moment!

His deep, cool voice cut through the air. "You can take Sam out to play after school tomorrow, but he can't stay here overnight. And he can't call you 'Mom.'"

"Really?" I shot up, excitement buzzing through me. As long as I could be near Sam, I didn't care whether he called me Mom or not.

Jealousy gnawed at me during the sleepless nights, leaving me tired and restless, yet still unable to drift off.

I lay there alone in that big bed, wondering why I'd put myself through this humiliation, trading my pride just to be part of the Murphy household...

Not far from this small town lay another country—a place with breathtaking scenery, cheap labor, sweet fruit, and gorgeous but deadly flowers.

I grew up here, so I knew the languages and routes like the back of my hand—French, Italian, English—but I hated this beautiful, sinister place with a passion, always aching to escape.

That day was a game-changer for me. I got my college acceptance letter. In just over a month, I'd be out of here, off to study in my homeland's city.

Clutching the letter, I rushed to find my best friend, Izaiah Hansen. He'd promised me an awesome gift once I got into college.

Caught up in my excitement, I kind of lost my head that day. I took a quiet path to get to the border faster, eager to meet Izaiah.

Izaiah had walked me down this path more times than I could count, but this was my first time alone. Just as I got close to his place, I heard the sound of heavy, chaotic footsteps.

Men... and more than a few of them!

Running into men in a place like this usually spelled trouble. Eight out of ten were straight-up ruthless and wicked.

I whipped around to bolt into the nearby woods, but they'd already rounded the bend and spotted me.

These guys were tall, their faces oozing menace, moving with deadly speed—definitely not your average lowlifes.

"Whoa, check it out, a little beauty!" one of them leered, his eyes glinting with pure malice.

"Haha, looks like we got some unexpected bonuses today!" another sneered, cracking his knuckles with a sickening sound.

I felt utterly humiliated and cornered, about to be overpowered, when someone suddenly swept in front of me. A blood-curdling scream tore through the air as I was jerked free from the man's grip.

These men were trained bandits. Without a second's hesitation, they lunged at the one who'd come to my rescue.

But this guy was freakishly fast and ferocious. Every move seemed powered by thunder, each strike aimed at a vital point. In just moments, two were down.

Still shaking from shock, I hid and stole a glance at my rescuer.

His eyes were fierce, lips pressed into a thin line, and the golden sunset light sharpened his angular, cold features. He looked like something straight out of a legend, radiating a terrifying aura.

It was Forrest Murphy.

The man who'd grabbed me staggered to his feet, spitting blood in fury. "Guys, bring out the blades; we got a tough one here. He cracked my ribs with one kick!"

The others realized the figure before them was no ordinary man. They pulled knives from their boots, coordinating a storm of fists and blades straight at Forrest.

I stood there, heart in my throat, silently sweating bullets for him.

---

Renata Jordan heard how effortlessly Izaiah had captured Samba, and even lying weak in her hospital bed, she managed a proud smile. "As long as my son sets his mind to something, he'll handle it brilliantly."

Listening to Renata recount Izaiah's methods, even Quinn felt a chill snake down his spine. He'd always known Izaiah was ruthless, but hadn't expected such brutality.

Yet what Quinn saw as cold-blooded violence, Renata and her father viewed as praiseworthy skill—something to be proud of and admired.

Quinn mulled it over. It seemed he and Izaiah came from two completely different worlds. Fitting into Izaiah's life wouldn't be easy.

Renata was overjoyed and proud, just like any ordinary mom, hearing the Murphys praise her son.

"My Izaiah is brilliant in every way. The only thing that worries me is his marriage," Renata sighed wistfully.

The others in the room perked up, listening intently. They knew Izaiah's marriage was something that affected them all.

"I'm happy with my life, but I regret that Izaiah hasn't married or had a child. It's the only thing bugging me," Renata went on, her gaze casually sweeping the room.

Murphy, shrewd and seasoned, lowered his eyes, smart enough not to meet Renata's direct stare. His daughter, though, was young and had her guard down. She bit her lip nervously, glancing at Renata.

Renata read every one of the daughter's little tells. That nervous fidgeting was a dead giveaway—she was hiding something.

A thrill ran through Renata. She was satisfied, knowing she'd soon learn about the child and make sure her grandchild was acknowledged.

Quinn felt his spirits sink at the mention of Izaiah having kids. As much as he was head over heels for Izaiah, he could never give him a child.

At that thought, a heavy wave of defeat washed over him. His face darkened, and he got lost in his own head.

Neither Renata nor Murphy noticed Quinn's silence. To them, the matter of Izaiah having children had zilch to do with Quinn.

Murphy felt his daughter's anxiety and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, smiling at Renata. "Renata, don't stress too much about it. The young ones have their own plans and their own luck."

"Ah, Murphy, we've known each other for years. You know Izaiah's nature; if he decides never to marry or have kids, he'll stick to it. When I pass, he'll be alone, without a child or close family. It would be so lonely, and the thought just breaks my heart. What's the point of all this wealth if he's got no one to share it with, no heir? Even in death, I'd find no peace."

Murphy frowned slightly. He sensed Renata's words carried weight—this wasn't just casual chat or wistful thinking. Why bring up Izaiah and children so suddenly?

Murphy's daughter wasn't as sharp as her father. Hearing Renata's mournful tone, she couldn't help but jump in. "Renata, Izaiah won't be alone. He'll have someone to care for him."

Murphy squeezed her hand harder, quickly shushing her.

Renata had brought this up on purpose, to gauge the Murphys' reaction. Seeing the daughter slip up, Renata wasn't about to let it slide.

Raising an eyebrow at the daughter, Renata asked, "How can you be so sure Izaiah won't be alone, or that he'll have someone? Have you already made some kind of arrangement?"

"I... I haven't..." The daughter's face turned bright crimson, stammering. "I just meant Izaiah has a ton of friends. When he's older, they'll support each other and look out for him."

Renata laughed softly, easing the tension in the room. "My dear, friends are no replacement for your own child. Think about it—who loves and cares for your father most? It's you, of course. No one else can compare to a child's love."

Quinn silently disagreed. He believed he could be way better for Izaiah than any child. He could give him medical care, cook him delicious meals, and teach him a healthy lifestyle so Izaiah would have a happy, healthy old age.

Renata, a master at reading people and situations, kept up her act, channeling a mother's deepest despair and longing with absolute perfection. Everyone who watched her was moved.

The daughter had never seen Renata like this. Her heart ached for this once invincible, queenly figure now looking so vulnerable.

Pressing her lips together, the daughter desperately wanted to tell Renata about Izaiah's child, to ease her distress.

Murphy, well aware of his daughter's soft heart, silently stopped her from blurting anything out.

"Renata, don't worry too much about this. The future has its own pace, and past regrets shouldn't cloud your view. You know this well. Izaiah is still young, with so much ahead of him. He'll find the right partner and have kids."

Renata had planted the seeds of suspicion and insight. She knew Murphy would get the message and would be forced to act.

She needed the Murphys to realize she was aware of the child and that she'd make damn sure the child was acknowledged.

Murphy felt uneasy about Renata's words. He knew she'd stop at nothing to get what she wanted. It looked like the clock was ticking for his son.

But Renata hadn't crossed the line yet. He wouldn't spill anything. Even though it was inevitable, he still wished for a little more time.

---

Izaiah dealt with Samba in his city and officially allied with General Jordan, pouring a ton of resources into him.

"Mr. Hansen, forming this alliance is an honor. You're the one who captured Samba, so these resources are yours," General Jordan said, still wary of Izaiah's power and ferocity.

An alliance with someone as fierce as Izaiah meant security against future threats. Jordan was grateful and didn't feel right taking Izaiah's spoils.

"My allies deserve to share in the rewards. Everything that's rightfully yours, you'll get," Izaiah shot back, bold as ever.

And Izaiah didn't just talk the talk—he walked the walk, sending dozens of trucks loaded with resources straight into Jordan's territory.