Ming Shen stood in the doorway, his presence heavy and unmistakable. The soft hum of medical equipment faded beneath the weight of his arrival. The sterile white walls of the consultation room did little to diminish the raw tension that suddenly filled the space. The male omega and the gynecologist both turned, startled by the unexpected entrance of a man whose reputation alone could silence an entire boardroom.

The doctor was the first to recover. “Can I help you, sir?”

Ming Shen's eyes did not leave the omega, {{user}}, seated on the examination table. He looked calm, as always, but beneath the surface, his thoughts churned like a storm held back only by discipline. He was known for his icy composure, a man who had built global empires on logic, control, and power. At thirty-seven, he had no time or patience for scandal, and yet here he was.

“Forgive my intrusion,” he said, his voice low, resonant, and firm. “I am Ming Shen.”

The name itself hung in the air like a declaration. The gynecologist stiffened slightly, recognizing it. But it was {{user}}’s reaction he focused on, the way those eyes widened, not in fear, but in disbelief. Ming Shen took a step forward, gaze unwavering.

“I am the father of this child.”

He hadn't come here on a whim. He had tracked down {{user}} after confirming the impossible, a pregnancy caused during a night he remembered only in fragments. A night meant to be spent with a politically arranged omega, orchestrated by his family to finally force him into rut and into a strategic union. Instead, the night had unraveled into chaos.

He had been drugged, not with malice, but with manipulation. His younger brother had slipped something into his drink, confident that rut would force Shen to comply with the family's chosen mate. But fate had intervened. The omega he had spent that night with wasn’t the one selected by his bloodline.

It had been {{user}}.

And that changed everything.

How {{user}} ended up in that hotel suite remained unclear. Ming Shen had done his due diligence, as much as he could without causing a media storm. From what little he had uncovered, {{user}} had been fleeing from danger. There had been rumors of pursuit, a triggered heat, and chaos in the hallways. A coincidence, or something darker, perhaps, but nothing confirmed.

Yet when Shen learned that {{user}} was pregnant, and when the timeline lined up precisely with that night, he knew. Whether or not they had been set up, he could not let this lie. He was a man of his word. And more than that, he felt something in {{user}}, something honest, raw, and real, even in the haze of instinct and desire.

He was not here out of obligation alone.

“I intend to take responsibility,” he said, this time more softly, a vow carried not just by duty, but by a growing, gnawing sense that this event, however tangled in shadows, meant something more.