The day I found out I was swapped at birth，the test strip on my bathroom counter turned up with two stark pink lines. I was pregnant.

If there was any silver lining to the wreckage of my life, it was that my baby’s father was Dominic Cross: an untouchable titan of the city’s criminal underworld, fabulously wealthy, and lethal enough to keep the rest of the world at bay.

I was never built for struggle. I liked silk sheets, black credit cards, and effortless luxury.

Swallowing my pride, I slipped the crumpled lab results into my designer coat, fully intending to corner him into a wedding ring.

Then the air in front of my eyes fractured, and glowing lines of floating text scrolled across my vision like a toxic, translucent comment feed: [Does this disposable sidecharacter really think getting knocked up means he’ll put a ring on her finger?] [LMAO.

The boss only mistook a lifesaving debt for love.

She’s the only one dumb enough to believe it’s real.] [Our real female lead is the true heiress—the badass secondincommand who’s been disguised at his side for years!

Once she finds out who her real family is, she’ll finally get the courage to drug him and claim her man!] [It’s hilarious how oblivious he is.

He treats the real lead like a brother while convincing himself he loves this spoiled little brat.

Just wait until the real heiress gets critically wounded trying to protect this useless parasite—he gets so furious he literally feeds her and the bastard in her belly to his pet lion…] 1 The crystal tumbler slipped through my fingers, shattering against the imported marble floor with a deafening crash.

In the private courtyard of Dominic’s sprawling estate, there really was a fullgrown white lion.

And that lion had been a personal gift from Sloane—his ruthless, sharpedged lieutenant, who had hated my guts from the second we met. "Baby?

What did I do wrong this time?" Dominic had only turned his back for a split second.

In that breath, my plan to shove the pregnancy test into his chest had dissolved into a fullblown breakdown amidst the glittering shards.

A scream tore at the back of my throat—I wanted to screech at him to get rid of that terrifying beast immediately.

The floating text flared across my retinas again, ruthless and mocking: [Stupid girl, go ahead and throw your tantrum! He hasn’t realized his own feelings yet.

The moment you complain about that lion, he’ll realize the woman he truly cares about isn't you!] [That lion is literally their token of unspoken devotion.

He cherishes it.] [Trying to trap a syndicate boss with a baby? Idiotic. He doesn’t give a damn about an illegitimate kid.

Once he finds out, he’ll probably snuff it out himself…] [Please keep pushing your luck, sweetie.

Make him lose his temper so he can finally put a bullet through your head!] The demands and accusations died in my throat, choking me.

Dazed, I stumbled back two steps, nearly planting my bare heel directly into the jagged glass.

Dominic’s arm snaked around my waist, hauling me flush against his hard chest before I could touch the floor.

He let out a ragged sigh of relief, his calloused palm gripping my hip as he leaned down to murmur against my ear. "Baby, I swear I didn't miss that auction on purpose.

Traffic held me up at the docks, and by the time I walked into the showroom, that vintage Patek Philippe was already hammered off to someone else..." "It’s—it’s fine!

It’s not your fault!" Panic surged through me.

My fingers crushed the medical report hidden deep inside my coat pocket, obliterating my usual demanding, imperious persona. "Dominic, you don't owe me expensive watches.

It was all my fault before... I was being selfish.

I was asking for too much." 2 Leaving those breathless apologies hanging in the air, I fled upstairs and locked myself inside the master suite.

Leaning against the heavy oak door, my mind dragged me back to what the floating words had called a "lifesaving debt." Three years ago, when I first found Dominic, he was slumped beside a dumpster in a raindrowned alley behind a downtown club, soaked in blood and barely breathing.

I’ve always been squeamish, utterly repulsed by mess. But under the grime, his jawline was razorsharp, his features striking enough to stop my heart.

So I loaded him into my car and paid for the best private surgical suite in the city. The doctor said blunt trauma to the skull had caused temporary blindness.

During those first weeks, Dominic was like a feral predator trapped in a cage. The moment he sensed me near the bed, he would snarl profanities.

When I tried to feed him, he told me to get lost. When I tried to change his bandages, he threatened to snap my neck. I was furious.

I had spent tens of thousands of dollars on this man only to be treated like dirt.

So, at the end of that month, while he was drifting off under heavy painkillers, I slipped a mild sedative into his IV, tied his wrists to the wroughtiron headboard, and took petty revenge by teasing and tormenting him half to death.

At first, he cursed me violently, his voice raw with fury. Halfway through, as my hands roamed his feverish skin, his curses died in his throat.

By the time I was done, his Adam’s apple bobbed heavily, and his voice dropped to a dark, raspy growl: "Is that... all you've got?" His blind, unfocused eyes suddenly locked dead onto mine—predatory, lucid, and burning with terrifying hunger. "If your hands are tired, untie me.

I’ll finish it." ...His eyesight had come back. A violent shudder racked my entire body.

Legs trembling, I tried to scramble off the mattress, but he ripped through the bindings with terrifying ease.

A large, scarred hand locked around my ankle, dragging me backward onto the sheets.

Before I could scream, his mouth was on my throat, biting down on the sensitive hollow beneath my ear with bruising intensity. No one had ever touched me like that.

Dominic held nothing back.

As I sobbed and pleaded against his chest, he dragged me onto his lap, breaking me down until the morning light filtered through the blinds. 3 When it was over, I couldn't stop crying.

Losing my virginity to a badtempered, nameless stray... if my adoptive parents found out, they would disown me on the spot. My soft sobs eventually woke him.

Terrified he would snap at me again, I slapped my hands over my ears and curled into the furthest corner of the bed.

Instead, Dominic rose, shifted closer, and gently brushed away the tears streaming down my cheeks.

His rough thumb was impossibly tender. "Don't cry," he murmured, his voice thick with gravel. "It’s on me.

I was drugged, lost control... and took you." He cupped my jaw, his dark gaze unwavering. "I’ll take responsibility. I’ll marry you." A penniless drifter wanted to marry me?

I wailed even louder, hiccuping between sobs that I’d rather die than move to some rundown trailer park, washing his dirty laundry and cooking his meals for the rest of my life.

A week later, once he was discharged, he had a black town car pick me up and drove me straight to his estate.

It was a private compound ten times larger than my family’s gated villa.

The casual allowance he deposited into my account on day one was more than what my adoptive parents had given me in ten years. My attitude flipped in a heartbeat.

I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his throat. "Honey... does that promise to take care of me forever still count?" Dominic’s breath hitched.

He was entirely powerless against my tears, my face, and my body. From that day on, I became his little moneyburning machine.

I shopped recklessly, filling closets with couture, jewelry, and sports cars. Dominic never batted an eye. His only condition was that he collected his dues in our bed.

Every night, he would coax whispered confessions out of me between breathless kisses, driving me to the brink of madness, only to shower me with more jewels the next morning to make me smile.

Over time, I let myself believe that this was love. After all, people always say a man's heart is wherever his money goes.

So the moment I held that positive pregnancy test, my first instinct had been pure, unadulterated joy. I thought we were finally going to build a real family.

Until the floating text shattered the illusion: [Think having a baby means a wedding? Dream on.] [If he wanted to marry you, he would’ve proposed years ago.

Why wait?] [Annoying little parasite. The second he figures out who he truly loves, he’ll settle every single debt you owe him!

When the real heiress cries, you’ll be thrown straight into the lion’s den…] For three years, I had been spoiled so thoroughly that I had forgotten the most basic truth: To the rest of the world, Dominic Cross was a coldblooded killer who ran the city with an iron fist. 4 Dominic didn't come upstairs that night.

Crouched in the corner of the bedroom, watching the luminous text flicker and fade against the darkness, I clutched the crumpled sonogram and wept until dawn.

By morning, I rubbed my swollen eyes and made up my mind. I couldn't afford to be highmaintenance anymore.

Before he woke up to his true feelings, I needed to gather whatever cash I could, keep my head down, and disappear.

I walked downstairs, my mind heavy with dread, only to freeze near the grand entryway. Dominic stood near the foyer, radiating a chilling, lethal aura.

He was casually wiping fresh, arterial blood from his forearm with a dark cloth, tucking a combat knife into his tactical belt.

There was a streak of drying crimson along his sharp jawline. My knees nearly gave out.

Before I could drop to the floor and beg for mercy, he reached into his leather coat, pulled out a velvet box containing a pristine, diamondencrusted watch, and held it out to me with almost reverent care. "Baby.

I convinced that old bastard to hand over the watch he bought for his daughter." He stepped closer, his voice dipping low. "Can you... forgive me now?" He was covered in blood, but the watch in his palms was untouched by a single speck of dust.

Looking into his dark, earnest eyes, something twisted painfully in my chest. The text flared in my peripheral vision: [Holy shit.

He actually declared open war on Arthur Shaw, the secondmost powerful boss in the city, just for a damn watch.] [Not just declared war—he breached their compound in the dead of night and hung Shaw by his ankles until he yielded.

This blood feud is entirely on the sidecharacter’s head.] [Too bad she’ll end up wearing that watch when they hack her hand off later... poetic justice, honestly.] My hand, which had just begun to reach out, recoiled violently.

A ghost of phantom agony shot through my wrist.

I rubbed it instinctively, my face draining of all color as I shook my head. "No... no, I don't want it." Dominic’s brow furrowed. "Why not?" He used his clean hand to gently stroke the edge of my eyelid, wiping away a stray tear. "What do I have to do for you to forgive me, baby?" "I'm not..." My fingers trembled uncontrollably.

Pushing past the terror, I stood on tiptoe and pressed my lips against the corner of his mouth. "I’m not mad. And I don’t need the watch. I just... I just want you.

Hubby." In the past, I only ever called him that when he pushed me past my limits in bed. Dominic’s gaze darkened instantly.

Dropping all questions, his hand locked behind my head, pulling me into a fierce, suffocating kiss.

Right there in the bright morning light of the foyer, the kiss grew desperate and heavy.

His large hand had just slipped under the hem of my silk sweater when the heavy front door swung open. "Boss." The person who broke the kiss was Sloane. 5 The moment she stepped inside, the floating text exploded with excitement, praising her competence while tearing me to shreds. "Sorry, Boss.

There’s an emergency at the docks that needs your personal attention." Sloane’s eyes were slightly red as she held out a tactical folder.

I took the opportunity to gently shove Dominic back.

He ran both sides of the city—the legitimate corporate empire and the shadow syndicates underneath. "What could possibly be that urgent?" Dominic’s expression darkened with annoyance.

He reached out, thumbing my swollen, reddened lower lip. Sloane leaned in, whispering a few terse sentences into his ear. Dominic clicked his tongue in irritation.

He pulled out his phone, wired five hundred thousand dollars straight into my account for "shopping," and only then reluctantly let me go.

As he headed upstairs to change, Sloane stepped directly into my path. "Winter Holloway, when are you going to stop acting like a spoiled child?" She glared at me, the fury in her eyes barely contained. "Do you have any idea how much money the boss lost last night, how many enemies he made, just to get you that stupid piece of jewelry?!" Her voice rose, driving me back a couple of steps in bewilderment.

I used to think she just hated how much Dominic indulged me. Now, I finally understood. She was a woman—and she was deeply in love with him.

More than that, she was the biological daughter my adoptive parents had been desperately searching for. [Next month, when our girl gets recognized by the Holloway family, this fake heiress loses everything.] [That’s when Sloane takes back what’s hers, drugs the boss, and finally seals the deal...] 6 Her path sounded all too familiar.

Wasn't that exactly how I had started with Dominic? Terrified by the text, I spent the following weeks walking on eggshells. I stopped spending his money. I stopped complaining.

When he called during the day to check in, I answered with polite, nervous monosyllables.

At night, when his hand reached for my ankle, pulling me toward him, I’d shrink back with excuses: "I don't feel well tonight. Please, not tonight..." Dominic had never forced me.

Still, his appetite was relentless. Going two weeks without touching me was clearly pushing his absolute limit. Returning late from an overseas weapons deal, he didn't wait.

I woke up in the dark to the heavy weight of his body pressing down on mine, his hips already moving with relentless intent.

Seeing my eyes flutter open in confusion, his breathing turned ragged, the grip on my waist tightening. "Sorry, baby. Did I wake you?" My morning temper was usually terrible.

Instinctively, my hand flew up to shove his face away—then froze in midair. Don’t do it, I screamed at myself. Don't hit him. You don't want a bullet between the eyes.

I slowly lowered my hand. Dominic’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits, clearly sensing my restraint, and he drove into me even harder. Panic flared in my chest.

What if this hurt the baby?

Unable to kick him away, I clamped my teeth down on the back of my own hand, muffling my cries. "Dominic... please, go easy..." "You’ve been so quiet lately, baby.

So obedient." Dominic pried my hand away from my mouth, his tongue licking the bloody teeth marks on my skin before he nipped lightly at my wrist. "Problem is," he murmured with a dark, low chuckle, "I think I liked you better when you were throwing fits." 7 For three days straight, Dominic barely let me leave the bed.

By the time he fell into an exhausted sleep on the fourth morning, I dragged my aching body up, threw on an oversized coat, and slipped out to the hospital.

I had already looked into Sloane’s official records—her adoptive parents had died years ago, leaving her with no known relatives.

Which meant that the moment my adoptive parents cast me aside, I would be completely alone. The only real family I had left was the tiny life growing inside me. I had to protect it.

Rushing into the downtown medical center, fresh text scrolled across my eyes: [OMG, our girl’s identity got revealed ahead of schedule!] [Yes!

The drugging scene must be happening tonight! The real couple is finally getting together!] [Once the boss gets a taste of the real deal, he won't even look at the parasite.

When the parasite throws herself at him later, he’ll just throw her to his men to play with...] My knees buckled. I stumbled, nearly crashing into the corridor wall.

A steady hand caught my elbow. "Careful." I swallowed hard and looked up, only to freeze. "Adrian?" He was a guy I had befriended while studying abroad in London years ago—one of the few genuine friends I ever had.

Adrian stood tall in a white lab coat, his handsome face lighting up with genuine surprise. "Winter? What are you doing here?!

I’ve been trying to track you down ever since I moved back..." Because of Dominic’s paranoia, my old social circle had been entirely severed.

I never expected to run into an old classmate here. Abandoning my plan to bribe a random doctor, I pulled Adrian aside and begged him to run the prenatal checkup under a false name.

When the ultrasound results came back, Adrian’s expression turned grim.

My heart vaulted into my throat. "Is something wrong with the baby?" "The baby is fine, but..." Adrian frowned, his jaw tightening. "Winter, who is the father?

What kind of monster treats a pregnant woman this roughly...?" Embarrassment burned my cheeks.

I gave him a rushed, vague explanation before looking at him pleadingly. "Adrian, I heard you have connections. Can you help me get out of the country?

Away from Dominic Cross..." "Baby, what did you just say?" A low, lethal voice sliced through the corridor behind me. The air instantly plummeted below freezing.

I spun around to find Dominic standing at the end of the hall, his dark eyes fixed on Adrian with unadulterated venom. "Who the hell is he?" Dominic stepped forward, his tone dropping to a dangerous whisper. "And why are you in the obstetrics wing?"