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"You're pregnant, Ms. Warren," the nurse said. It was 3:00 am. All was quiet in the hospital's infusion room. Amelia Warren lay on the bed in a daze as she stared at the IV bag hanging above her head. Half an hour ago, she had fainted in front of the operating room that her mother, Rachel Ziegler, was in. The nurse on duty had rushed her to the infusion room before delivering the earth-shattering news to her. She was pregnant? How preposterous. Amelia was stuck in a daze for a long time before she realized she must have gotten pregnant a month ago. To save enough money for Rachel's kidney transplant surgery, she worked herself to the bone every day, taking up jobs such as waitressing, cleaning, and delivering food. However, no matter how hard she worked, she couldn't earn enough for the surgery. That night, an exhausted Amelia came up with the idea of using a shortcut for the first time in her life. She borrowed a dress and a pair of high heels from her best friend, Christina Emerson. Her makeup was exquisite when she attended the yacht party, balancing a wine glass in her hand. Unfortunately, Amelia wasn't able to convince herself to take that last step despite the countless wealthy men who approached and flirted with her. Thus, she ran away, escaping to a deserted corner, intending to leave the party. Just then, a tall and broad man staggered in front of her. "Help me." The man's voice was hoarse and ragged. His brows were knitted together, and his eyes were overflowing with an intense but restrained desire. Amelia was alarmed, and she reflexively tried to run away. "Help me!" the man demanded as he grasped her wrist tightly. Amelia felt as if the searing heat of his palm was going to burn her. As she struggled to free herself, the man spoke again. "I'll give you anything that you want," he said. His magnetic voice burrowed into her ears. His breath was hot, reminiscent of a sticky midsummer day, alluring and irresistible. Amelia suddenly stopped
