During the flight, Yu-jin imagined countless scenarios—a strict but kind father, a gentle and caring mother, mischievous or aloof siblings, perhaps even a lovable younger brother or sister. A family that looked different from him in hair color and skin tone, yet gathered together for a bright and cheerful family photo.
He had harbored a vague hope that he, too, could have the kind of dreamlike family he had only seen in books or movies. But that hope was shattered before long. No one welcomed him at the mansion. In fact, he wasn’t even allowed to stay in Delight, the grand estate bearing that name. Instead, he was placed in a small annex on the far edge of the vast property.
There, he had to live alone. The only visitors were servants who came by occasionally to provide necessary services, but beyond that, no one came to see him. The only exception was Harold Campbell, the master of the mansion and the man who had brought him here.
The only people who ever spoke to him were the servants and Harold. But the servants only exchanged the bare minimum of words when necessary, which meant Harold was the only person he truly conversed with. On the rare occasions Harold called for him, Yu-jin would rush to him, heart pounding with excitement. At the time, all Yu-jin could think about was how to please Harold.
He was unbearably lonely, starving for affection. The attention of the only person who acknowledged his existence was something he desperately craved. Yu-jin would have done anything—anything Harold wanted—if it meant earning his love. At that time, Harold was his entire world.
That was why he stayed up night after night, tirelessly memorizing and studying a language he couldn’t yet understand. And it worked. Whenever he met Harold, his improving language skills would surprise him, and Harold would seem pleased. Seeing that reaction made Yu-jin happier than anything, pushing him to study even harder. In less than a year, he had become proficient in English, thanks to the relentless effort of sacrificing even his sleeping hours.
But Harold was always too busy. It had already been nearly two months since their last meeting, and Yu-jin was feeling utterly dejected. Harold gave him everything material he could possibly need, but Yu-jin needed something far more than that—the warmth of another person.
Of course, he never voiced that need aloud. He was terrified that if he complained, Harold might grow to dislike him. So he always forced himself to say he was fine.
But he couldn’t keep up the act when he was alone. Yu-jin was lonely, and he felt it all the time. Though he was already twelve, he was still too young to endure such profound solitude.
That was how he ended up outside in the garden, foolishly searching for a four-leaf clover to distract himself—only to break down in tears.
That was when Winston appeared before him.
***
Somewhere in the distance, birds chirped. Yu-jin blinked as he lay blankly on the bed. Slowly, he emerged from sleep, his mind becoming clearer. And with it, the memories he had been trying to ignore came rushing back all at once.
“Don’t worry, Yu-jin. You just have to bear my child. Then the inheritance will remain secured.”
The moment Winston’s words resurfaced in his mind, a sharp ache clenched at his chest.
What do I do?
Cold sweat trickled down his back. Even if they were married, even if they spent countless nights together, the will could never be fulfilled. Winston couldn’t even begin to imagine it.
That after giving birth to Angela, Yu-jin could no longer have children.
A low groan escaped from deep in Yu-jin’s throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth, struggling to suppress his ragged breaths so as not to wake the child sleeping beside him.
Huu, huu.
Taking slow, measured breaths through his constricted throat, he gradually managed to steady himself. His breathing calmed, leaving behind a faint dizziness. Lowering his hand, he turned to look beside him. His daughter was still sound asleep.
Seeing her peaceful face, he couldn’t resist pulling her into a tight embrace. The soft rhythm of her breathing gradually soothed him as well.
When he opened his eyes again, his expression had changed.
I will protect her. No matter what it takes.
If Winston ever found out that Angie was his child…
There was no way Yu-jin could feel at ease. More than anything, they were living under the same roof. Right now, Winston firmly believed Angela was Harold’s child. But the moment even the slightest suspicion arose, everything would be exposed. Just the thought of that day coming made Yu-jin’s heart clench, his breath coming short.
There was no choice.
This secret must never come to light. If the worst were to happen—if it were discovered that Yu-jin could no longer bear children, and even worse, if Winston learned that Angela was truly his daughter—
Winston would stop at nothing to take her away.
To secure his inheritance.
There was no doubt about the skill of McCoy, the lawyer who had won countless cases with his twisted logic. And there was no doubt that Yu-jin would never be able to win against them.
The course of action was clear.
Yu-jin forced himself to focus.
Wait for the right moment and escape with Angie. Until then, hide the fact that he could no longer have children.
Those were the only two things he needed to do.
***
The morning sun streamed into the breakfast room, filling it with soft, golden light. The faint aroma of coffee lingered in the air.
The butler poured rich black coffee into his master’s empty cup, then quickly scanned the table with a practiced eye. Ensuring that nothing more was needed, he swiftly withdrew, careful not to disrupt his master’s quiet meal.
Left alone, Winston held several sheets of paper in his hands. The prenuptial agreement Yu-jin had signed the day before. Without bothering to read through the details, he simply wrote his name at the bottom.
The contract explicitly stated that under no circumstances would Yu-jin ever lay claim to Angela’s inheritance. When Yu-jin eventually learned of this clause, he would regret it to his very core. But of course, Winston had no intention of informing him of that now.
With this, the family’s wealth was perfectly secured from the grasp of a shameless fraud.
Yu-jin might even abandon the child now that she was of no use to him. But Winston couldn’t care less about that. His mind was preoccupied with something else entirely.
Yu-jin’s face had been lingering in his thoughts all morning. More precisely, the way he had trembled in fear upon realizing that his child might be taken away from him.
If it were revealed that the child was actually his father’s, Winston would be in trouble as well. But at this point, he had no choice but to take the gamble.
Even if Yu-jin agreed to the test and it confirmed that Angela was his half-sibling, Winston had already prepared an alternative plan.
And besides, who would turn down a gamble with a guaranteed victory?
The only unexpected variable was Yu-jin’s reaction.
Could he be serious?
Winston furrowed his brows as the thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shook his head. Impossible.
He hadn’t expected Yu-jin to go so pale with fear over a mere probing remark. He had been genuinely terrified at the possibility of losing the child. More than that, it was clear Yu-jin intended to continue hiding the fact that Angela was Harold’s daughter.
Did that mean… he truly loved Father?
The thought alone was revolting. Unthinkable. Yu-jin was nothing more than a money-hungry whore, wasn’t he?
No—he had to be. Winston wasn’t wrong. Yu-jin had simply sold himself to Father for money. That was all there was to it.
But what if that wasn’t the case?
His thoughts came to a sudden halt.
Winston tried to push away the idea he absolutely did not want to acknowledge, but doubt had already begun creeping into the edges of his mind.
What if he truly…
“Mr. Campbell.”
A familiar voice snapped Winston back to reality. He swiftly buried his unsettling thoughts and turned his attention to the butler. Seeing nothing unusual in his master’s demeanor, the butler continued in a respectful tone.
“Madam Campbell has arrived. Shall I escort her in?”
He had expected this. With a brief nod, Winston lifted his coffee cup to his lips. By the time he was spreading butter on his second piece of bread, the butler had returned, leading his mother inside.
“Winston.”
Camilia—Madam Campbell—spoke before even taking a seat. Her face was drawn with urgency, perhaps even anger.
Only after confirming that the butler had discreetly exited the room did she finally open her mouth again.
“Is it true that you’re marrying that?”
