He turned on the living room light. His expensive suit jacket was tossed carelessly over the back of the couch. With his tie loosened, he unbuttoned his white shirt, pulling it off his shoulders and letting it fall wherever it landed. The Swiss watch gleamed for a brief second before he dropped it beside an armchair. His tailored pants were undone next, abandoned along with his shoes. The clothes were left behind like a skin being shed. The CEO's muscles still carried the strain of the day—endless meetings, aggressive phone calls, million-dollar contracts waiting on his signature, and relentless family pressure. The alcohol had only dulled the surface of his anger and exhaustion, not erased them. He took a deep breath, his chest rising slowly. When he was finally naked, the contrast between his polished presence and a body marked by maritime tattoos became impossible to miss. On his chest, a map intertwined with a compass. On his left arm, an anchor sinking into rough seas, wrapped

At the Holt mansion, seated in his imposing chair at the dining table, Frederick maintained an upright posture despite his advanced age and the illness slowly draining his strength. His eyes, which were still sharp, commanded the room. At his side, his wife Ophelia watched him closely, the quiet concern of maturity etched into her calm expression. Farther down the table, Philip—Frederick's son—and his wife Erica, Liam's stepmother, exchanged silent, knowing looks. Once everyone was seated, Frederick lifted his wineglass, but he didn't toast. His deep voice echoed through the dining hall, unforgiving. "To my future great-grandson," he announced, letting the weight of his words linger. "Liam needs to get married. And soon." Ophelia was the first to react. She leaned forward slightly, distress clear on her face. "Frederick, you can't demand this of our grandson," she said gently, though pain laced her voice. "He has the right to make his own choices. You know that since he was a

One week had passed, but for Olivia, time no longer moved in a straight line. It felt like a maze where every turn led her back to the same place. The night that changed everything. The memory came in blurred flashes. Disconnected pieces of a scent, and touch… then emptiness. She had protected her virginity for years, believing her first time would be given to the man she loved. But fate, cruel and treacherous, stripped that promise from her in a hotel suite where she believed she was with Peter. Now she carried the consequences of an unexpected pregnancy, a traumatic breakup with the man she once thought was perfect, and the responsibility of becoming a single mother. But the heaviest weight was not only in her womb. It was in her heart. How could she tell her parents? How could she face her father, a man with a fragile heart who had always called her "my Pearl"? The pride he felt for his daughter was so deep that Olivia feared the truth would strike him like a blade straight to

Olivia went pale. For a moment, she thought she hadn't heard him correctly. Her stomach twisted, her head spun. She had to brace a hand against the armchair to keep from losing her balance. "What did you say?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. Liam took a step toward her but kept his expression neutral, his hands tucked into his pockets. Everything about him radiated control. "The baby you're carrying is mine, Olivia." The words fell like a sentence. She blinked rapidly, her mind struggling to process them. A short, nervous laugh escaped her, while tears streamed down her face. She laughed and cried at the same time. "Wait…" she breathed, her voice breaking. "Are you telling me the man from that night was you?" "Yes," he confirmed, his voice low and controlled. "If that weren't true, you wouldn't be here right now. Enough childishness. We need to talk." The word "talk" triggered days of bottled-up rage. Her hand shook, her chest heaved. Before she could think, she

On the road, Liam drove in silence. The air inside the car felt heavy. From time to time, their eyes met without either of them realizing it. Olivia kept her forehead pressed against the cold window, trying to control the nausea. When the car stopped in front of a luxurious bridal boutique, she lifted her gaze, surprised. "What are we doing here?" she asked quietly. "You need a dress to get married," Liam replied without looking at her. "And you had to bring me here?!" she shot back. They went inside. Camilla's mother greeted them with enthusiasm. "Mr. Holt, it's an honor to have you here. We've already set aside dresses from the finest designers. Olivia, dear, your dream is coming true. You're getting married, just like my precious daughter. She's leaving for her honeymoon today. Peter organized everything the way she deserves. A full week in Rio de Janeiro," she said, beaming. A tight ache settled in Olivia's chest. Liam noticed and, coldly, wrapped an arm around her wais