Amya McKee was hammered at prom. The fact that she was still holding onto her V-card before graduation irritated her.

Perhaps she should just pick some random guy...

Her eyes flicked over to the boys from the baseball team.

"Ugh, no way," she thought, scrunching her nose. "They're total babies. And they'd probably roast me for it anyway.

"But it feels so hot..."

She staggered to her feet, only to bump into a man.

"You're cute," she slurred, wrapping her fair arms around his neck.

Then she leaned in and kissed his thin lips, like she was silently asking for help.

She exuded youthful vitality, like a fruit that had just ripened, and her movements were so raw.

The man pressed his lips tightly. She wasn't his type, and he was supposed to be totally unfazed.

He was only here to find someone.

But even though his brain said nope, his body heated up at her seduction. So he took her away.

The next morning.

As sunlight shone into the VIP presidential suite of a luxury hotel, the man opened his eyes, only to find the bed empty.

A note on the pillow was glaring. "Sorry for bothering you last night. It was just a mistake—let's be adults and forget it. I really am sorry. Goodbye."

His eyes were instantly filled with rage as he made a call and said sternly, "Octavio, pull out Diamond Grand Hotel's..."

But then his gaze caught on the red stain on the sheets, and he paused. After a few seconds, he rubbed the bridge of his nose and said, "Forget it."

He presumed she was just some young girl blowing off steam, and he might as well, like she said, forget it.

***

A month slipped by.

Amya shuffled weakly into the OB-GYN department, clutching the hem of her shirt.

After a series of complex tests, it was finally time for her follow-up.

The doctor glanced over the lab results, then looked up at Amya.

Amya had fair skin, delicate features, and big, watery eyes. She was thin and neatly dressed, but her clothes were obviously worn out. Right now, her eyes were filled with uneasiness.

The doctor could tell she was still a student.

She looked at Amya with worried eyes and said, "Sweetheart, you're pregnant.

"Where are your parents? They need to come in for this."

"Am I ... really pregnant?" Amya asked, her voice barely audible.

"See? The embryo's developing normally. There's even a heartbeat already," the doctor said, pointing at the ultrasound report.

"Thanks." Amya grabbed the sheet and ran out of the hospital, her face pale.

She ran all the way onto the street, feeling more terrified than ever.

She thought, "What am I gonna do? If Dad and Susan find out, they're gonna kill me!

"Should I get an abortion? But I heard that cost like two grand, and all I have is 50 bucks. Plus... isn't that supposed to hurt like hell?"

Tears blurred her vision, and she felt completely trapped.

Just then, her phone rang, snapping her back to reality.

It was Susan Pratt, her stepmother. "Amya, where are you? Get home. Now."

When Amya was five, her mom died of illness. The next year, her dad, Ashton McKee, married their neighbor Susan, a high school teacher. As an Uber driver, he needed someone to take care of little Amya during his absence.

Susan had always been strict and serious, especially with Amya.

But she had also ensured Amya was well taken care of, and that made her a qualified stepmother.

Amya was uneasy along the way coming back home by bus, wondering if they had known about her pregnancy.

Entering the door, she saw Ashton, Susan, and her stepsister Gianna McKee sitting on the couch.

"Amya, SAT scores are out. You barely scraped community college level! What the hell?" Susan reprimanded upon seeing Amya.

"What?"

Amya was shocked. Her grades had always been solid.

She'd been sure she'd make it into a decent state university. And she was pretty confident after taking the SAT.

"It's not a big deal," Ashton mumbled. "She can retake it the next year."

"What? Are you for real? How much will that cost? Besides, she's gonna get up early every morning for class for another year. Who's gonna make breakfast for her? I'm beat enough already, okay?" Susan snapped at once.

Ashton muttered, "Then... a community college it is."

"And you!" Susan turned to Gianna. "Don't get too full of yourself just 'cause you got into state university. I have high hopes for you."

Gianna remained silent.

Susan called all the shots at home, and no one dared to contradict her.

"Enough said. It's your life. Make decisions for yourselves." Susan leaned back against the couch, looking irritated.

Ashton scurried off to the kitchen to cook, and Amya and Gianna went back to their bedroom.

They were the same age, but not related by blood. Gianna was Susan's kid from her first marriage.

The two had been fighting since childhood. As they grew up, the fights stopped, but they still refused to talk to each other. Though they shared a bedroom, they seldom talked.

At around 7:00 p.m., Ashton made dinner, and the family sat at the table.

Amya was down. After setting plates, she sat next to Ashton, her mind in turmoil.

She thought, "What should I do? I'm pregnant, and I crashed and burned on the SAT..."

She felt totally at a loss.

Ashton had cooked up a pretty solid meal—fish, ribs, veggies, and soup.

Susan's mood perked up a little at the sight of the food.

Ashton quickly put on a smile. "Let's celebrate Anna and Amy getting into college. Susan, cheer up, okay? You'll scare them."

"What's there to celebrate about? It's not like they got into a top-tier university or something. What a waste of money." Though she said so, the smile on her face was palpable.

Ashton smiled, too, and placed a piece of rib on Amya's plate.

While placing the best part of the fish onto Gianna's plate, Susan said to Amya, "Now that the SAT is over, why don't you go get a job tomorrow? You've got nothing better to do anyway. And hey, you can enjoy free AC. Honestly, don't even bother with community college. What's the point? You're not gonna land a better job after graduating."

Amya froze. Then she looked up at Susan, whispering, "Susan, I wanna retake the SAT next year."

She wanted to fight for another chance for herself.

Susan knitted her brows.

"You had your chance. Ashton and I busted our asses paying your tuition, just so you could get into a good uni. But you still flopped.

She snorted and continued, "Why waste any more money and time? I think you should just get a job and get married soon."

Then she glanced at her phone. "One of my friends owns a restaurant, and she's shorthanded. A waitress there earns 2,000 dollars a month. I've talked to her already, and you can start tomorrow. Bring out your best. Don't embarrass me."

As she spoke, Ashton was silently sipping his wine, while Gianna was eating the fish.

Amya's throat tightened. She looked at Ashton, whispering, "Dad..."

"Shut up!" Suddenly, Ashton smashed the glass onto the floor, totally losing it. He roared at her, his face twisted in fury, "You wanna complain to me? Really? After your shitty scores? You should be glad Susan got you a job!"

Amya burst into bitter, quiet tears. Across the table, Gianna shot her a sardonic smile.

Amya didn't dare to cry out loud and, she had no appetite at all.

She thought, "What should I do? I can't go to college... and I'm pregnant..."

At night, she tossed and turned in bed. Around midnight, she heard Susan's low roar coming from the master bedroom. "No! Ashton, forget it! There's no way I'm letting her retake the SAT! Say one more word, and I swear I'll file for divorce!"

Tears streamed down Amya's cheeks again as her stomach rumbled.

The baby must be hungry...

Early the next morning, Ashton shook Amya awake, his face hard and cold.

Without even eating breakfast, they followed Susan out the door.

At 8:00 a.m., the family arrived at an upscale restaurant. It was famous in Marblebury for its delicious Kurtador cuisine, and even celebrities and big names were regulars here.

The restaurant was lavishly decorated and had two floors. The first floor was for dining, and the private rooms were on the second one.

The manager, Susan's friend, sized up Amya.

Satisfied with Amya's pretty, fair face without any makeup and innocent, crystal clear eyes, the manager said, "Alright. She can stay. I'll see if she's up to it."

Susan said to Amya, "Hear that? Bring out your best."

Then she turned around to leave, followed by Ashton. Before heading out, he secretly slipped 20 dollars into Amya's hand, telling her to get something to drink if she got thirsty.

But Susan saw it and glared at him fiercely.

She snatched the money away and tossed 5 dollars onto Amya. "She works at a restaurant, okay? Why would she need that much?"

"Come with me, Amya," the manager said.

Then she taught Amya everything, including dining etiquette, taking orders, serving dishes, and so on.

Amya learned carefully. Her plan was to work here for a month. After getting paid, she'd decide whether to keep the baby.

Soon, it was the afternoon.

Diners poured in as a limo parked outside.

"We've arrived, Mr. Powell."

Waylon Powell's secretary stepped out first and respectfully opened the car door for him. Then Waylon stepped out of the car. He was a tall, imposing man dressed in a suit, his striking features, sharp gaze, and noble temperament standing out.

As the CEO of Powell Properties, the top real estate conglomerate in Dragondom, he had a net worth reaching hundreds of millions of dollars. Over a dozen bodyguards were standing behind him.

"Hello, Mr. Powell. This way. Your VIP room is ready." A waiter quickly stepped forward.

Meanwhile, Amya was carrying a crate of wine to the second-floor counter with her back to the entrance.

"Amya, where are the three crates of wine for the guests on the second floor? They're losing patience!" the manager frantically shouted at Amya through the walkie-talkie.

"Okay, okay! I'm on my way!" She quickened her pace, knowing how swamped everyone was.

But the crate was so heavy. As she turned around, she lost her balance and bumped into someone.

"I'm sorry..." She bowed while fixing her gaze on the person's shiny leather shoes.

"To my shoes?" Waylon said coldly.

"I'm so sorry!" Terrified, she immediately straightened up, looking serious. "And welcome..."

In the next second, however, she couldn't utter another word, blushing completely.

She was actually looking at the knight she had kissed cheekily that night a month back.

"You?" Waylon was stunned, too.

The last person she expected to see here was him.

On that night a month earlier, since the SAT was over, she was resting at home. Ashton was out driving his taxi, and Susan had let her nephew Leroy Pratt stay the night.

Around midnight, Leroy snuck into Amya's room and got into her bed. She was utterly frightened and struggled hard, but coincidentally, Gianna had said she wasn't feeling well and went to sleep with Susan. They were in another room, and neither heard Amya's screams.

She had to kick Leroy in the groin hard before running out.

That night was simply a nightmare for her. Leroy relentlessly chased after her out onto the street, and she, out of desperation, got into a random car parked on the roadside.

The young man in the car beat Leroy up and chased him away, and later on, she felt so hot for no reason...

Her rationality slipped out of her control, and she hugged and kissed that man ceaselessly...

When she opened her eyes the next morning, she found herself in a hotel bed, and the man lying next to her was still sleeping. Terrified, she left him a note before putting on her clothes and running back home, and Susan scolded her harshly.

Amya parted her lips, genuinely surprised to see him here. If it weren't for him who stopped the car and saved her, she might have been raped by Leroy.

Though she ended up sleeping with him, he didn't strike her as a bad man.

"Are you here to eat?" she asked Waylon, blinking innocently.

Her soft voice brought Waylon back to that night when she kissed him and hugged him passionately.

He quickly took a deep breath, frustrated at his odd reaction—this was definitely a first during his almost-thirty-year life.

That night, he had just ended a meeting and was driving back to Emerald Villa. On the way, he saw her running while being chased by a man.

He stopped the car and helped her. Later, he actually gave in to her enthusiastic advances...

Remaining calm, he nodded. "Yes. Why are you here? That night..."

He wanted to tell her that though he didn't take the initiative that night, he was happy to agree to whatever demands she had.

"I'm swamped. Could you find a seat first?" she interrupted him and turned to head upstairs with the crate on her shoulder.

Seeing the heavy crate, which was a stark contrast to her skinny figure, he frowned.

"Let me. You wanna take it upstairs?" He took the crate.

"Hey, no need. I got this," she said, but he had already taken the crate away.

Then he carried it to the second-floor counter.

Waylon, the CEO of Powell Properties, had always been the decisive, ruthless top ruler. Yet, he was so gentle to a young woman today.

He actually offered to help her carry a dusty crate.

His secretary and bodyguards seemed to realize something and hurry forward to help.

But then they retreated in silence after he gave them a look.

Amya, however, was oblivious to this because she was solely focusing on supporting the bottom of the crate so as to help Waylon.

As they went upstairs, the second-floor manager was startled at the sight of Waylon.

As he was about to say something, Waylon shot him a cold glare, silencing him instantly.

After putting the crate under the bar counter, Amya hurried downstairs.

"Two more crates."

Waylon was slightly stunned.

Then he quickly followed her.

***

After they set the two crates down, Amya asked the manager, "What do you need me to do now?"

"No... Not a damn thing..." the manager stammered, looking like he was about to collapse.

He thought, "Why is Mr. Powell helping Amya? He's the top figure in the real estate world. After all, half of Dragondom's real estate development belongs to Powell Properties!

“No way I'm bossing Amya around. That's like bossing Mr. Powell himself!”

He forced a smile at Amya. "Take some rest."

Amya breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, she could catch her breath.

Looking at Waylon, she was slightly uneasy. After all, what had happened that night was still vivid in her memory.

She had no idea why she had acted that way...

"I'm partly to blame for what happened that night, too. I should've taken you to the hospital," Waylon said, his voice low and steady.

On that night, he had noticed something off and figured she had been drugged.

But she had been so enthusiastic that he had failed to stop her.

"I know I'm the one who initiated it." Amya dropped her head, pursing her lips. "You don't have to beat yourself up."

Waylon was amused. Countless women in Marblebury wanted something from him, but she seemed to be the only one who didn't. She was foolishly cute.

"How old are you?" he asked her with a smile.

"I'm nineteen."

"Nineteen?" All of a sudden, he felt guilty as if he had done something wrong. He was already twenty-six, seven years older than her.

Had she even graduated from high school yet?

Who had drugged her that night?

"Do you need any help?" His tone became gentler before he realized it. "It seemed like someone was chasing you that night."

Amya looked up at him, her watery eyes lighting up before dimming again.

Though they had shared a night together, they were practically strangers, and she didn't want him to know things at home.

Seeing her bite her lip and remain silent, he changed the subject. "Do you need anything? I mean anything—money, apartments, or cars."

Pondering for a while, she asked, "Could you lend me 2,000 dollars?"

2,000 dollars?

Didn't she think it was a bit too little? Shouldn't she be asking for 20 million dollars?

Amya took a deep breath before saying truthfully, "I'm pregnant and need 20 million dollars for my surgery. But... forget it if you don't wanna lend it to me."

Waylon gawked at Amya in shock.

She was pregnant?

"Are you sure?" he asked.

She nodded and said, her voice soft, "Yes. That's what the doctor told me after I got my ultrasound at the hospital."

Waylon was momentarily at a loss for words. He had never pictured him with children.

Under his gaze, Amya felt a bit ashamed. "You don't have to feel burdened. And I'm not trying to rip you off. I'm gonna pay you back."

"You want to get an abortion?" Waylon snapped back to reality. "Why?"

He didn't know her well, but knowing she wanted an abortion somehow riled him up.

It was his baby, too. How could she be so merciless?

Amya pressed her lips. "Can I tell you the truth? In fact, I want the baby."

No one loved her after her mother passed away. If she kept the baby, she'd have family again.

"But I don't have money and can't afford to raise it. It'd suffer."

She tried her best not to let her tears fall down. "Raising a child means a lot of money. You aren't a rich man, are you? You're gonna get married and have your own children in the future. If I keep the baby, it'll be your burden."

Who would marry a man with a baby?

The thought that he might find the baby a nuisance someday in the future broke her heart; compared to that, she'd rather get an abortion.

Waylon was so frustrated, he almost laughed. He rested his slender fingers on her shoulders and said, "You're quite considerate, aren't you? Is that really how you see me?"

She was stunned for a few seconds. Was he saying... he wanted the baby?

As she parted her lips to say something, he took her hand and strode downstairs.

His palm was warm and firm, giving her a great sense of security.

"What are you doing? I have to work," she said, startled.

Whether getting an abortion or not, she still needed to work.

If she truly gave birth, she'd need money for everything, ranging from baby formula to cute baby outfits.

"Not today," Waylon said.

Holding her hand, he went upstairs and got into the car under the shocked gazes of his bodyguards and secretary.

Then he started the car and drove toward the hospital.

"But I need money desperately. Besides, this is my first day at work. If my father and Susan know I ditched work, they'll be pissed." Utterly nervous, Amya looked out at the restaurant gate farther and farther away from them.

"Susan? Is that your stepmother? Are your parents divorced? So you live with your dad and stepmom?" Waylon keenly noticed something and asked while holding the steering wheel and driving.

"Yes," she said concisely.

Realizing he was intruding on her privacy, he didn't press on.

In silence, they arrived at an upscale private hospital.

He walked inside while holding her hand.

Then he said, his voice magnetic, "Where's Andrew?"

The hospital was clean and tidy, and the air was filled with the fresh smell of disinfectant. Andrew McCoy, director of the hospital, rushed to the first floor.

As he was about to greet Waylon respectfully, Waylon said flatly, "Give her a checkup and see if she's pregnant."

"Alright." Andrew was filled with surprise, wondering about the two's relationship.

But, of course, he didn't dare to pry into the personal affairs of Waylon, his boss, so he led Amya to the second floor for a check-up quickly.

Summers Hospital was very famous in Dragondom, and it was only one of Waylon's many assets.

"Hey, doesn't this place charge a ton?" Lying on the ultrasound table, Amya looked genuinely worried.

She heard that private hospitals charged hundreds of dollars for a single check-up.

If it was really that expensive, she'd leave.

Andrew pulled a wry smile, wondering why she would ask such a question—didn't she know who Waylon was at all?

"Don't worry. Check-ups are free."

Amya was instantly relieved. Then she lifted up her shirt, revealing her fair, tender belly.

As Andrew placed the ultrasound probe on her stomach, he suddenly felt a chill down his spine.

Terrified, he looked up, only to meet the gaze of Waylon standing at the door. He hurriedly averted his gaze to the screen, not daring to look at Amya's belly for another second.

Soon, they heard the fetus' robust heartbeat.

It was as strong as a train at full throttle!

"Mr. Powell, she's pregnant."

Waylon already knew what the result would be, even before Andrew spoke. He was stupefied and overwhelmed with mixed emotions, including surprise, joy, and affection.

He thought, "Am I hearing the heartbeat of my baby?

"It's so clear and strong.

"I bet it's a lively, adorable little one."

Snapping back to reality, he noticed the sadness on Amya's face.

"What's wrong?" He frowned, stepped forward, pulled her shirt back down, and gently helped her up.

She didn't answer, feeling sorry for her baby. If it had come later—two years later, perhaps—when she'd saved up a little, she would have kept it for sure.

But now... She really couldn't afford to keep it.

Therefore, she couldn't help but cry when she heard the baby's heartbeat.

Seeing their interaction, Andrew sensibly walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Are you blaming me?" Waylon frowned and wiped away her tears. He got it—she was so young, and of course, getting pregnant scared her.

No matter what, he was partly to blame for that night.

She shook her head and sniffed. "Let's go to another hospital for the abortion. Doing check-ups here is free, but surgeries must cost a lot."

Was Amya so determined to get rid of their baby? It seemed she wanted the abortion so badly.

Waylon's expression darkened as he stared at her.

His stern look scared her immediately, and she shrank her fair neck, biting her lip.

Seeing her eyes brimming with tears, Waylon could no longer stay mad at her, his heart softening at once.

"Don't you love the baby?" He frowned. "I think you should keep it. I'm sure your baby will love you very much."

Only he knew this was the first time he had ever persuaded someone with so much patience.

"Of course, I love my baby, but..."

Lying on the ultrasound table, Amya was torn. She agreed with everything he had just said, but...

Waylon said flatly, "If you're so worried, let's get married."

"What?" Amya was slack-jawed.

Get married?

She wasn't prepared for that at all.

Under her shocked gaze, he continued, "You don't want the baby to suffer later on, right? I'll raise it. Let's get married, so you don't have to worry about me getting married to another woman."

In fact, he had never thought of getting married. After all, he had never even dated anyone.

Honestly, he felt little for Amya. But since she was carrying his baby, he knew he had to step up.

"Why don't you think about it? Talk to your father and stepmother about it, too. We'll get married and formalize the paperwork next year."

He knew she had to respect her parents' opinion when it came to something this big. After all, she was only nineteen.

Feeling touched, Amya looked at him, her eyes filled with gratitude.

His gentleness and consideration made her heart flutter uncontrollably.

Before they realized it, an hour had passed. By the time they left the hospital, the sky was dark.

"You haven't eaten yet, have you?" Waylon asked once they got in the car.

Looking at her, he recalled hearing people say pregnant women got hungry easily. When his sister was pregnant, she could eat three plates of food for a meal but would throw up afterward. There was nothing easy about being pregnant.

"Not yet." Amya was starving.

"I'll take you to eat." He started the car.

"That's not necessary. I'll feel bad troubling you. You can just drop me off somewhere, and I'll grab a bite."

"I haven't eaten either. Let's go together," he said.

He wanted to take her to eat something much more nutritious, but she drooled over a taco joint.

Seeing this, he had no choice but to take her inside.

As she relished, he frowned imperceptibly, thinking, "What does she like to eat? None of this is nutritious.

"How can my baby grow up healthily like this?"

Meanwhile, she took big bites of her taco, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's.

"Is this what you love? Do you love it, or does my baby love it?" He sipped the cheap drink, not having an appetite at all.

She couldn't help laughing at his puzzled expression. "We both love it."

With that, she placed a taco next to his lips. "Why don't you give it a go? It's pretty amazing."

He hadn't taken a bite yet.

Waylon wanted to say no at first.

But, for some reason, he took a bite.

"Not bad." Arching an eyebrow, he took the taco and started to eat.

While eating, he thought, "Shit. It seems my taste aligns with the baby..."

At 9:00 p.m., Waylon dropped Amya off at her house. As she walked upstairs, she felt a little uneasy, not sure how to tell Ashton and Susan about her getting married to Waylon.

As she entered the door, she saw Susan and Gianna watching TV on the couch.

Susan yawned at the sight of her. "You're back. You must be tired after working all day, right? Go to bed."

With that, she stood up, turned off all the lights, and walked back into the master bedroom with Gianna.

Amya sighed, figuring Ashton must have gone out on the night shift again. Preoccupied, she figured that she might as well tell them when they were all present tomorrow.

She stepped into her bedroom. In the next second, her face turned ghastly pale.

Leroy was lounging on her narrow bed with one leg casually crossed over the other, scrolling through videos on his phone.

He looked up and grinned. "Hey, you're back, Amya."

Leroy was in his thirties, an unemployed freeloader.

Scared, Amya took a step back, her watery eyes filled with fear. "Why are you here?"

"Ashton is out on night shift, and Susan says I can stay the night," he said and swallowed while leering at her unscrupulously.

Amya immediately turned around to run away; what had happened last month was still vivid in her memory.

Yet, in the next second, he held her from behind. "Where are you going? I've been interested in you for a long time, Amya."

"Let go of me!" she screamed.

"Dream on!" He held her even more tightly and dragged her to the bed, sniffing her fragrant hair at the same time.

"Susan!" Amya screamed at the top of her lungs. "Susan! Gianna!"

But the door of the master bedroom was still tightly closed, and the entire place was filled with nothing but her screaming; it seemed Susan and Gianna were soundly asleep again.

Leroy grinned lewdly. "Save the strength. Ashton isn't home, and though Susan hasn't said so, I know she's approved of us. Don't bother shouting."

In an instant, despair engulfed Amya. Only now did she realize Susan and Gianna had already known. They had deliberately ignored her cries last time.

All of a sudden, she remembered that on the very night that Leroy had tried to rape her, Susan had brought her a glass of milk before she went to sleep. Susan had never done that before.

"Let go of me! If you dare touch me, my dad will kill you!" She struggled desperately.

There were two beds in the tiny bedroom, which was less than ten square meters, and Leroy shoved Amya onto the left one.

Leroy said, "Go ahead and scream. Who'd come to your rescue? Ashton? He's such a henpecked husband. So what if he knows? Susan totally whips him."

The lewd, unscrupulous grin on his face grew even bigger.

Amya was desperate.

Just then, the main door was opened, and Ashton walked inside wearily.

Hearing the sound, Susan immediately walked out of the main bedroom and asked him nervously, "Why are you back, Ashton? I thought you were on a night shift."

"I gotta grab some pills. My stomach hurts." He clutched his abdomen while heading toward the coffee table.

"Dad!" Amya cried out, her voice choked with sobs.

He immediately strode into her bedroom and was shocked.

"What's going on?" His face turned livid as he saw Amya and Leroy in bed, their hair messy. To his relief, both of them still had their clothes on.

Gianna and Susan followed him closely.

Susan arched an eyebrow. "Amya, I can't believe how shameless you are! Flirting with Leroy? He's your cousin!"

Terrified, Leroy rose up from the bed and said in a trembling voice, "Amya, I was sleeping soundly on the couch. Why did you call me in?"

"You're lying!" Amya glared at Susan. "Susan, you know exactly Leroy came into my bedroom at first."

"What? That's crazy!" Susan snapped. "If I had known, I wouldn't have let you do something so despicable!"

"You're lying, too!" Amya was so furious that her chest heaved.

"Shut up!" Susan snapped from the doorway, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You came onto Leroy, and after Ashton walked in on you, you called me a liar? I raised you for years! Have I ever wanted anything from you? You're so ungrateful!

"I've never seen a more shameless nineteen-year-old in my life!"

Susan scolded Amya harshly as if Amya were one of her students at school, "You're only nineteen, okay? How come you're so horny already? You actually seduced your cousin and tried to smear me? You damned girl!"

Gianna chuckled.

"Dad, I'll testify for Leroy. Amya totally came onto him," she said to Ashton.

Ashton's face flushed at their words.

Being Amya's father, he felt utterly ashamed.

In a rage, he slapped Amya across the face and roared angrily, "Amya, you're such a disappointment!"

Amya felt dizzy, and her ears rang.

She turned around and stared at Ashton intently.

"Dad, are you serious? I'm a disappointment? Are you even my dad? You never laid a hand on me when Mom was alive.

"Leroy is an ex-con, and he's twelve years older than me. Why would I seduce him?"

Ashton was stunned at her questioning. Meanwhile, Susan snorted. "Leroy was just young and naive—he got tricked. He didn't mean to break the law."

"Shut up!" Amya roared at her.

"What did you say? You brat! How dare you disrespect me?" Susan immediately flew into a rage.

She was used to getting her way at home and school and couldn't stand Amya talking back to her. She raised her hand and was about to slap Amya.

However, Amya grasped her wrist firmly.

She widened her eyes, feeling even more shocked. "What is it? You wanna hit me?"

Seeing this, Ashton grabbed Amya's hand, shook it away, and fumed, "Amya, she's your stepmom! How could you disrespect her like this?"

"Yeah, you're right. She's my stepmom, not my mom!"

Amya's years of bottled-up bitterness finally erupted.

"When I was little, she picked on me every single day. Whenever she felt down, she took it out on me. Why didn't she take it out on Gianna? She has never scolded Gianna! And when we went out, she acted like she was so nice to me so as to trick everyone into thinking she was a perfect stepmom!

"Ever since we were little, Gianna's wardrobe has always been filled with all kinds of fancy clothes. As for me? I could only wear pants that were too short for me. In winter, when I said I was cold, she scolded me, saying I was so willful and kept wasting her money. If Mom were alive, she'd never let me go through winter without proper pants.

"And you, Dad? She's a teacher, and you think marrying her is winning the lottery, so you ask me to make concessions again and again. She had Gianna take your surname, and ever since that, you've been even more grateful to her.

"Everyone says a stepmom turns one's real dad into a stepdad. I guess that's true. After all, you wouldn't even believe me now.

"When Leroy tried to rape me, she was right next door, and what did she do? I screamed at the top of my lungs, and she ignored it! And this isn't the first time it has happened! If Mom were alive, she would never have..."

The more she spoke, the more worked up she became, and she couldn't help but cry.

Ashton was at a loss for words, his face filled with complex emotions, including anger.

After quite a while, he muttered, "Well... You know Susan has a bad temper. Can't you... be the bigger person?"

Hearing this, Susan was smug again. "I don't need you to make concessions, Amya. Get out! I won't spend another penny on you ever again. Why don't you kill yourself so that you can be with your mother?"

"That's enough, Susan," Ashton said, trying to ease the tension.

"Get out!" Susan pointed at Amya's nose. Then she snapped at Ashton, "Today, only one of us gets to stay here. Is it gonna be she or me? If she doesn't leave today, then let's get a divorce! You decide!"

Ashton put on a fawning smile, comforting her, "Come on, Susan. She's just a kid and says and does things impulsively. Don't take it to heart, okay?"

"You pick her then? Alright! Good for you, Ashton!" Susan's eyes were brimming with tears at once as she turned around and grabbed Gianna's hand, looking aggrieved. "Anna, let's go. I was so stupid marrying him."

Ashton was immediately flustered. He stuffed 20 dollars into Amya's hand and said, "Find a motel for the night. We'll talk about this tomorrow."

Then he hurried toward Susan, stopping her from leaving.

The cash slipped from her hand and hit the floor, but Amya didn't even glance at it.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she walked out expressionlessly.

Even after stepping outside, she could still hear Susan's sobs and bitter accusations, complaining about picking the wrong person and having a failed life.

Amya didn't want to hear her hypocritical cries for another second. Sobbing, she ran downstairs. Since the stairwell light was out, she was in total darkness. Too immersed in sadness, she tumbled down the stairs.

She let out a scream.

When falling down, she was so terrified that her mind went blank, but she still clutched her abdomen tightly. She didn't mind getting hurt as long as her baby remained intact.

Luckily, someone was heading up. Waylon widened his eyes nervously at the sight of her and spread his arms to catch her accurately.

Weightless as she seemed, the force of her fall was great. Her head slammed into his chest so hard it left him breathless, and he couldn't help coughing.

He staggered back a few steps and fell onto a pile of broken bicycles wedged in the corner while clutching her waist with one arm and protecting her head with the other hand.

Amya felt a bit dizzy; in the darkness, a pleasant scent wafted into her nose.

She was stunned and then looked up to see Waylon's face.

"Waylon..."

Waylon's back ached, but he held her gently without moving. "Are you okay? Are you in pain?"

She passed out without saying anything.

Waylon was utterly worried.

He immediately picked her up, walked outside, and stepped into his car outside the community.

Andrew was surprised to see Waylon in the middle of the night with the same girl from earlier in his arms.

He walked over at once, and Waylon said anxiously, "She fell and passed out."

"What? She's pregnant!" Andrew was equally uneasy.

He could tell Amya meant a lot to Waylon. Nothing could happen to the baby she was carrying.

"Get her examined now." Waylon's voice was chillingly icy.