The Fang Residence.

Fiona Fang sat in the middle of her large bed, arms crossed tightly around herself.

“Mom, I don’t know, I just don’t like Grace Gordon! I have no idea why things turned out that way…”

“I didn’t know Annabelle Winters was pregnant, either!”

“How was I supposed to know the rumors out there were true—that Grace Gordon is really having an affair with that double?”

“Mom…”

Mrs. Fang cried as she held her daughter.

Mr. Fang rubbed his temples, feeling like his head might split in two.

The root of all this, Grace Gordon, was waiting downstairs.

Fiona Fang had stayed overseas for a month, thinking she’d dodged all the fallout. But the moment she returned, Grace Gordon showed up at their door.

Fiona Fang was trembling in fear, shrinking into her mother’s arms. “It wasn’t on purpose, it really wasn’t! I don’t even know what happened—I must’ve lost my mind or something.”

“Go apologize,” Mr. Fang said heavily. “At this point, the only way out is forgiveness. What else do you want to do, send her to jail?”

Fiona Fang pulled a face like she’d swallowed bitter medicine. Only after a long while, accompanied by her mother, did she finally make her way downstairs.

An elegant, refined man sat with one long leg crossed on the sofa—his face sharp and cold, expression unreadable.

In an instant, memories from her youth flashed through Fiona Fang’s mind: the enthusiastic teenager playing basketball, the top scholar speaking beneath the national flag, all his smiles and frowns… And then the images of him with Annabelle Winters.

“Miss Fang,” Grace Gordon said, his voice as icy as his gaze. “It’s been a month and you look like you’ve put on weight.”

“So, you came all this way just to check if I got chubbier? Well, I’m doing just fine, CEO Gu—and you don’t look too bad yourself!”

Mr. and Mrs. Fang exchanged shocked glances. This was not how they’d rehearsed her apology at all! What’s gotten into their daughter?

“I’m not doing fine. I lost my child. Miss Fang, should I have you arrested, or shall we call off the partnership? Maybe both?” Grace Gordon replied coolly.

“Grace Gordon! I didn’t do it on purpose! How was I supposed to know she was pregnant? It’s not like she had it tattooed on her forehead!” Fiona Fang was clearly unraveling. “It’s your child anyway—I didn’t hurt you. If it’s an apology you want, have Annabelle Winters come here!”

“So you can hurt her again?”

What was wrong with this guy?! She couldn’t take it anymore.

Fiona Fang lunged at Grace Gordon, unleashing both fists and feet in a flurry of blows.

Her parents rushed forward and grabbed her.

“Go ahead and arrest me if you can!”

“Pah! I don’t like you anyway!”

“Take me away! Throw me in jail!”

Fiona Fang had gone full meltdown.

Grace Gordon, who would never raise a hand against a woman, simply stood up, straightened his suit with a frosty air, and remarked, “Frankly, I think you need a stay at the psych ward more than anything else.”

“CEO Gu is right, we’ll send her right away!” Mr. Fang restrained his daughter, watching Grace Gordon leave.

“Sweetheart, please try to act normal…”

“Are you OK?” her mother asked.

“No, I’m not! Ugh!” Yitong rolled on the sofa, hair in disarray. “Grace Gordon is such a jerk! Ahhh…”

Over at Lakeview Manor, a low shout echoed through the chilly winter air.

Quentin Young had slipped and landed squarely on his backside in the snow. “Aaaaah, ouch!”

“Sis?”

No one replied.

Rubbing his sore behind, Quentin Young hobbled inside. “Sis! You’ll never believe it—the Fang girl just got taken to a psych hospital.”

Olivia Young was reading. At this, her heart sank a little.

How were NPCs supposed to compete with story-appointed main leads? They were born to be cannon fodder. Tragic.

“Sis, aren’t you even a little surprised?”

“Of course I am—utterly unmoved,” Olivia Young replied coolly.

Quentin Young sidled up, putting his ear to her belly. “Baby, your mom is so cold-hearted. Your uncle just fell on his butt and she didn’t even ask if I was OK. But you’ll care about your uncle, right?”

Olivia Young whacked him on the head with her book. “Quit whining.”

“Hmph! Just wait. When the baby arrives, the two of us will conspire to leave you out.”

“Oh, I’m so scared. We’ll see who you run to for milk then.” Olivia Young smiled, “I’ll just deliver the baby and retire from all responsibilities.”

“No way! You have to help!” Qingsong grinned. “Sis, there’s a film festival tonight, isn’t your husband going?”

“Not sure.”

“Are you going with him?”

Why would she parade her massive belly in public?

“Nope.”

Quentin Young looked worried. How were these two ever going to build a relationship if they never even met? That stepdad Frederick Fairfax was trouble!

Despite her words, when night fell and her livestream started, Olivia Young quietly pulled out her phone to watch.

The red carpet procession lasted two hours. Frederick Fairfax appeared second-to-last, accompanied by Tara Young—the other male lead in the film "Dawn Breaker."

The instant they hit the carpet, the crowd went wild.

“My brother-in-law is actually kinda handsome,” Quentin Young had somehow crept up behind her.

“If he didn’t have that face, I wouldn’t have chosen him.”

“Didn’t you choose him because your parents told you to?”

Olivia Young sipped her milk. She was thinking about that night…

Honestly, even wearing a mask, Frederick Fairfax was drop-dead gorgeous. One look at his lips made you want to kiss him.

If she was going to break out of the plot, she at least had to do it with style. Quality over quantity—no looks, no height, no interest.

The camera kept panning over to Frederick Fairfax’s face. Good-looking people always drew the spotlight.

[Frederick Fairfax: Watching the livestream?]

[Olivia Young: What livestream? I’m just showing the baby some eye-candy.]

Eye-candy—as in, Dad.

[Frederick Fairfax: Is the baby watching, or are you? I won’t even bother calling you out. I’m coming home tonight, will you wait up?]

[Olivia Young: Only if you win an award. Otherwise, don’t bother!]

[Frederick Fairfax: Is there still time to bribe the jury?]

Probably not. The competition tonight was fierce—veteran actors, international contenders, art films. Honestly, she was just teasing.

Whether he won or not didn’t matter.

Olivia Young kept thinking about Frederick Fairfax coming home, but her body betrayed her—the moment she put down her phone, she drifted off to sleep.

When Frederick Fairfax arrived home, not a soul greeted him.

The whole manor was deathly quiet—he half-wondered if he’d wandered into some forbidden Silent Zone, where no words were allowed.

Where was everyone?!

Softly, Frederick Fairfax crept upstairs and gently pushed open the bedroom door. A lamp cast a golden glow across the room.

Olivia Young was fast asleep, phone dangling off the edge of the bed, bedside lamp highlighting the calm serenity of her face.

Frederick Fairfax slipped away her phone, tucked her hand under the covers, then left for a shower.

He finished and was tiptoeing back out when—

“You’re back?” Olivia Young squinted sleepily at him. “Your shower woke me up!”

“I should’ve showered outside,” he replied, easily closing the distance and leaning over. His warm lips brushed her cheek, then slowly made their way down.

Olivia Young blinked. “…Huh?”

What kind of move was this?

Who was the clingy one here?

Wasn’t this a zero-hesitation opener? He walks in and starts kissing?!

After several minutes of scattered kisses, Frederick Fairfax pressed his forehead against hers, breath slightly uneven. “Did you miss me?”

“Not at all!”

Frederick Fairfax sat down beside her. “What a coincidence—I didn’t have time to miss you either. Between acting and running the company, I barely have a minute to spare.”

“So you didn’t have time to miss me, but the second you get home you have all the time in the world to kiss me? There’s a disconnect between your brain and your body, huh?”