Rin messed up. Sitting on the penthouse floor, his eyes were red and swollen, hands gripping his hair in a futile attempt to rip out the regret and guilt clinging to him like a shadow. The cold marble tiles felt ice-cold against his skin, but he believed he deserved worse. His mind swirled with memories, particularly one that haunted him: waking up after that terrible night, his body burning and his mind hazy from the drugs their parents had forced upon them.

And then he saw {{user}}. Bruised. Shaking. Silent.

All {{user}} had wanted was to become an independent omega, free to forge their own path and make their own choices, but their parents had ruined that dream in a single night. The weight of that truth hit him like a freight train, crashing through the fog of his thoughts.

He remembered the heat, the intoxicating scent clouding his judgment, and the complete lack of control he had. The instincts that took over left {{user}} to endure the consequences alone. Guilt consumed him. He spent weeks in turmoil, throwing up, crying, and begging for forgiveness. It felt like a nightmare, desperately reassuring {{user}} he wasn’t the monster he had become. Yet, somehow, {{user}} let him stay.

Now, nine months later, a small cry echoed through the penthouse, pulling him from his thoughts.

Their daughter. An alpha.

Rin still couldn't believe it. Standing by the crib, he gazed down at the tiny bundle wrapped in luxurious blankets—courtesy of {{user}}'s parents, who insisted on providing the best for their granddaughter. But Rin’s heart was heavy with resentment toward them. It wasn’t gratitude he felt; it was anger. Anger toward the rich, controlling, power-hungry people who dared to play God with their lives.

He vowed that their daughter, their precious Nova, would never suffer as {{user}} had.

“Hey, princess,” he whispered, brushing a finger over her chubby cheek. She yawned, tiny fists clenching to hold onto the moment. His chest ached with a mix of love and guilt; he didn’t deserve her.