The cold glow of the phone screen lit up Chloe's face. She instinctively straightened her spine.

Even though she'd graduated—even though she was married now—the name Ervin Dudley still carried weight. Like a thesis defense title flashing on a projector screen, it made her tense up out of reflex. He was a senior she deeply respected.

"Yeah, I slept too much during the day," she typed quickly, then added a cute cat sticker.

Ervin: You're pregnant. You should be resting properly. Where's Stanley? Out drinking again?

She sent another sticker before replying: I don't think he's drinking. He said a friend needed help with something, so he went out.

What about you? Why are you still up?

About a minute passed before Ervin's next message came through.

He sent a location pin—a hotel in downtown Harborcrest.

What a coincidence. I'm here on business. Just got to the hotel.

A coincidence indeed. Everyone seemed to be converging on Harborcrest today.

While she was lost in thought, another message popped up: Get some sleep.

But Chloe couldn't sleep.

Her heart was a mess.

When Stanley left, she felt awful. If he came back, she'd feel just as troubled.

She'd already figured it out. Stanley couldn't just drag her to a hospital for an abortion. Bringing her to a couple-themed hotel tonight—he probably planned to cause a miscarriage through sex.

A cruel, underhanded move.

But knowing it was cruel didn't change how she felt. Emotions didn't listen to reason.

She would work on pulling back the feelings she'd only just started to let grow. But she wasn't there yet. Stanley still affected her.

She clenched her fist and sent Ervin a message: Is there any way, without hurting the baby, to give me some kind of virus? Something that'll make me sick for a week or two? Preferably contagious.

A second later, Ervin's video call request popped up.

The ringtone startled her so badly she nearly dropped her phone.

The moment she answered, the man on the other end was removing his glasses. Light caught the delicate chain, glinting off the bridge of his nose.

His features resembled Stanley's, but there was something entirely different about him—colder, more severe.

"Ervin..." She raised the phone to eye level instinctively, like she was holding an imperial decree.

His voice was calm, but she caught a hint of gentleness underneath. "What's going on?"

Chloe's ears burned. The words she couldn't bring herself to say rolled around in her throat several times before finally tumbling out. "It's just—it's that... Stanley wants to—to do that with me. But I'm worried it'll hurt the baby. I said no, but he won't listen. It's really hard to deal with. You're a doctor—can you help me think of something?"

Ervin's gaze froze. His expression turned grim.

Chloe bit her lip and lowered her eyes, her thoughts racing.

It was embarrassing. But she genuinely needed help.

After a long pause, Ervin spoke. "Where are you? I'm coming."

"Not far! I'm in the city center too!"

She sent him her location.

About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang.

She got up to answer it. Ervin stood in the doorway—white shirt, dark slacks, handsome and refined. Mature.

She let him in awkwardly and stood in front of the cabinet displaying adult products, twisting her fingers. "Ervin."

She'd tried to block his view, but he'd already seen.

His brow furrowed. "Don't stay here tonight. Come to my hotel."

Chloe blinked. "Huh?"

His tone was firm. "Get your coat. We're leaving now."

"But—"

"Don't worry," he cut in. "I'll call Stanley later and tell him you had stomach pains. That Grandfather sent me to get you."

Chloe thought for a moment. "Okay."

She had just turned toward the closet when a cool grip closed around her wrist. Ervin was staring at the bruise on her elbow. "What happened here?"

Chloe glanced down at it. "Stanley took me to get a blood test today. To check the baby's sex. The nurse who drew my blood was an intern—she left a bruise."

"A blood test to check the baby's sex?" A cold light flickered in Ervin's eyes. "What is he planning?"

Before Chloe could answer, Ervin scanned the room, his expression darkening further. "It's a girl?"

Chloe stared at him, stunned. "How did you know?"

Ervin closed his eyes briefly, releasing her arm. A smile crossed his face—one Chloe couldn't quite read. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "Get dressed and come with me. As your teacher, and as your brother now, I'll protect you."

Chloe froze for a moment before it clicked. Ervin must have guessed what Stanley was planning to do.

Genuine emotion welled up in her chest. Her eyes reddened. "Thank you."

In a hotel across Harborfront Bay, Stanley sat by the floor-to-ceiling windows, a long cigarette burning between his fingers as he gazed out at the night skyline.

He lifted the cigarette to his lips and checked his watch. "It's getting late. I'll leave after I finish this."

The dark glass reflected his tall silhouette—and behind him, Kira Vale.

She wasn't short, about five-foot-eight, wearing a strapless gown. But the dress didn't look sexy on her. She was rail-thin, almost malnourished.

Though that kind of frame photographed well.

She frowned. "Fine. Do whatever you want. I'm going to take off my makeup."

Stanley turned to look at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Sure."

Kira smiled back. "You've already got a wife as pretty as Chloe. Why are you still looking at me like that?"

Stanley paused. He'd simply turned around to speak to her.

He didn't bother explaining. "You're pretty too. Go get ready for bed."

"I'm... also... pretty. Also." Kira walked over and stood beside him. "Chloe's not here now. Tell me—who's prettier? Me or her?"

Stanley's brow furrowed slightly.

The answer came to him immediately.

Chloe was prettier.

He still remembered the first time he saw her. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming—that he'd conjured up the image of a flawless woman.

Her face was bare of makeup, yet there wasn't a single imperfection. Her lashes were so thick and dark they looked like other women's after eyeliner and false lashes. Her lips were soft pink like strawberries, her face round and delicate.

Under the club's cold white lights, her pale skin seemed to shimmer with a subtle glow. The fitted white t-shirt and tiny shorts outlined a figure that was full but never heavy.

Five words summed up his first impression: Ripe for the picking.

Mouth-watering.

It had driven him to do something reckless—something that nearly got him a free meal and a place to stay.

His silence stretched on. Kira's expression turned wounded. "Our feelings have faded, haven't they? You've forgotten everything we went through together."

Only then did Stanley speak, his voice flat. "No. I was just about to say—you're the prettiest."

Kira pouted. "I don't believe you."

"It's true. I'm not lying."

"I won't believe it unless you stay here with me tonight."

Stanley crushed out his cigarette, his expression darkening.

He reached out and lifted a strand of her long hair, his tone coaxing. "You promised me. Once I become the Dudley heir and divorce Chloe, you'll go public with our relationship. Marry me."

"So tonight, I have something important to do with Chloe. Something that'll help me become the heir sooner. Let me go back, okay?"

"No."

Kira pursed her lips, looking aggrieved. "You can't leave."

Stanley's slender fingers paused. "Kira..."

"You really can't. You're someone else's husband now. I don't feel secure. You spend every day with another woman—she's even carrying your child. If we're not together often, what happens when our feelings fade? What if you fall in love with Chloe?"

"Stanley, you're so eager to go back to her. Have you started to... like her?"

Stanley looked at the unease in Kira's eyes, and a mocking curve tugged at the corner of his lips.

Like.

Love.

In the world he'd grown up in, those words were nothing but arsenic wrapped in sugar coating.

His parents had played the loving couple in public for over thirty years, but their marriage had only survived on reputation and mutual benefit.

His father, who marketed himself as whipped by his wife, kept a rotating lineup of mistresses—some younger than Stanley himself.

His mother, who marketed herself as the perfect wife and devoted parent, had been caught during his teenage years with multiple muscular young men in their own home...

Love and affection were just fig leaves draped over disgusting animal urges.

Too fake.

Only feelings that had weathered the test of time, along with the sense of responsibility that grew from them—those were the real thing.

Like what he had with Kira.

They shared twenty years of history. Even as a teenager, he couldn't bear to see her living alone and had wanted to take responsibility for her entire life. That hadn't changed.

He would never use possessiveness, control, or lust to trap her, restrain her, or interfere with her choices.

He wanted her to be free forever.

He wanted a marriage completely different from his parents'—one untainted by self-interest, built only on pure emotion and responsibility.

Stanley let go of Chloe's hair, patted the top of her head, and said indulgently, "Silly girl."

Talking about love and affection—how naive.

"I already gave her a wedding. Until the divorce, I'll transfer her monthly allowance on the fifteenth like I'm supposed to. I won't take on any other responsibility for her... Don't you want to marry me sooner?"

"I'm scared!" Tears welled up in Kira's eyes. "We've barely even hugged a few times, but you and her already have a child on the way. Every night you spend with her, I can't sleep. I keep thinking, over and over, I can't stop..."

"Thinking about whether you've held her in your arms, kissed her, taken off her clothes, lost yourself in her body!"

Stanley's throat bobbed. His pupils contracted sharply.

Kira.

Had hit the mark.

Since meeting Chloe, because of her pregnancy, he hadn't gone further than that. But kissing—that happened almost every day.

Chloe seemed to possess some kind of muse's magic, violently dragging his base urges and worst instincts out from the depths of his soul.

When he was being tender with her, he couldn't think of Kira. He'd even abandon work. Like an addict too far gone to save.

Responsibility, reason, reality—he threw them all away. All he wanted was to drown in her, to chase that indescribable pleasure and release.

Like a thief with a guilty conscience, he gave in to Kira. "Fine. I'll text her. I'll stay with you tonight."

Kira's face immediately lit up, and she reached out to wrap her arms around Stanley's.

But the man pulling out his phone instinctively moved away from her.

Kira froze. "Stanley?"

He hadn't even noticed what he'd just done. "What?"

Kira's delicate brows furrowed. "Why did you pull away from me?"

Stanley blinked, startled. Then a flicker of confusion crossed his face.

He'd pulled away from Kira?

Before he could think it through, his phone buzzed.

Chloe was calling.

He gathered himself and answered. Before she could speak, he said, "Babe, I'm not coming home tonight."

The moment Kira heard "babe," her gaze sharpened. A sour expression crossed her face, and she pinched his arm hard.

"Ss—" Stanley hissed in pain and turned to look at her, but there wasn't a trace of anger on his face.

"You called her 'babe'... right in front of me..." Kira said.

Stanley's pupils contracted. He quickly reached out to cover Kira's mouth, terrified Chloe might hear.

But Chloe had already heard.

And she wasn't the only one. Ervin had heard too.

When Chloe made that call to Stanley, she'd put it on speaker.