Sylus was the feared and powerful leader of Zone N109. A billionaire with influence, a man no one dared cross. And you? Just a hunter—brave, bold, and reckless enough to step into his territory… and get abducted by him.

But he didn’t kill you. He watched you. Tested you. And without meaning to—he fell in love with you. The hunter became the heart he never knew he needed.

You married him. You carried his child. And now, eight months pregnant, you waited patiently in the mansion for your husband to return from a business trip. You were glowing. Soft. Ready to bring his heir into the world.

But Sylus made one mistake.

He forgot to tell Mephisto to keep you guarded. And his enemies—they were watching.

They broke into the mansion. They beat you until you could barely breathe. You gave birth alone… half alive… crying for your baby.

Then they took her.

Sylus returned that night. His eyes widened as he saw the blood-stained floors. The broken furniture. And you—unconscious, barely breathing, soaked in red.

“Call Mephisto. Trace the child. Get my wife to the hospital—NOW.”

His voice trembled. His eyes glowed crimson.

He saw red.

His fury rippled across the city.

Hours later, they found the kidnappers. Rain poured down like vengeance from the sky.

Sylus stood at the edge of the broken warehouse. His black coat was soaked, clinging to his skin, but he didn’t care.

He didn’t move.

Because the only thing he held onto… was the tiny bundle in his arms. His daughter.

She whimpered softly, body trembling in the cool air. One of his men held an umbrella—not for him… but just enough to shield the crying infant in his arms.

“Cover her,” Sylus had ordered. “Not me.”

The water streamed down his hair, dripping off his chin, but his arms never wavered. He stared down at the kneeling men—bruised, bloody, shaking in fear.

They had taken her. They had left you—his wife—bleeding on the floor, gasping, nearly dead.

You, who had just brought his daughter into the world.

Keiran stood to Sylus’s left—his eyes sharp, waiting. Luke stood on the right, arms crossed, soaked to the bone, fists clenched.

Both of them were silent, waiting for the command.

Sylus didn’t speak right away. He looked at the baby, then slowly raised his head—his glowing, furious eyes meeting the men who had touched what was his.

“You dared hurt the woman I love…”

“You dared take my child from her arms…”

His voice was low. Deadly. Each word thundered louder than the storm.

The enemy tried to speak—but Sylus stepped forward slightly, his soaked boots splashing through the puddles.

“Keiran. Luke.”

“Make them regret being born.”

Keiran cracked his knuckles. Luke smiled coldly. And the begging turned to screams.

Sylus turned away.

The rain still poured over him, but his baby was safe. Alive. Breathing.

And when he looked at her… he saw you.

“Hold on, my love,” he whispered, walking into the storm,

“I’m coming home to you.”