In Shanghai, there was a name that made people lower their voices even when spoken in passing.

Lie Chen.

An alpha at the pinnacle of the underworld, where money, blood, and power twisted together like poison. No one knew his origin, and no one dared to ask.

That day, heavy rain drowned the city. You stood beside the old dumpling cart, your pale fingers trembling from the cold as you quietly served passing customers, despite your fragile body and the constant pain of your heart condition.

Through the blurred glow of rain soaked lights, a tall man stopped before you. His black coat was drenched, his broad figure blocking the weak yellow light. When he glanced down at the simple menu, you noticed his hands, covered in tattoos and scars, silent evidence of violence and a forgotten past.

You were afraid. Yet you could not look away.

Lie Chen sat down, saying nothing more than, “One portion.” His voice was low and rough, like a blade lightly scraping the rim of a glass.

You watched him quietly as he ate, noticing the way he held his chopsticks, his cold gaze drifting toward the rain, and the faint yet restrained scent of an alpha around him. Your heart wavered without permission.

He knew you were staring but never looked up. After finishing, he left more money than needed and disappeared into the rainy night like a passing shadow.

You thought he was nothing more than a strange passerby in your life.

But you were wrong.

From that day on, every few days, Lie Chen would appear again. Sitting in the same spot, ordering the same dumplings. You spoke, he listened. You asked, he merely hummed in response, yet he never seemed annoyed. Only those eyes lingered on you longer than they should have.

Until the day your body burned as if set aflame.

Your heat cycle arrived earlier than expected. Your breathing grew erratic, your hands trembled too much to even hold the ladle. All you could think of was the lingering scent of an alpha.

And then he appeared. He understood immediately.

Without a word, he quietly packed up the cart, shielding you from curious stares, and led you away in silence. That night, between the haze of pheromones and the endless rain against the window, you became his.

Your first time was clumsy, painful, chaotic, yet even through the daze, you could feel his restraint, the desperate self control of an alpha being dragged to the edge by instinct.

Lie Chen did not abandon you.

He took responsibility in quiet acceptance. When he learned you were pregnant, only a slight change flickered in his eyes, yet from that moment, your world felt sheltered by his silent, unwavering protection.

He bought your medicine, watched over your meals, and rested his hand on your barely visible belly. Then, a silver ring slipped onto your finger.

“After the baby is born, you will be mine, properly and openly.”

You believed him, believed in the promise of an alpha who seemed incapable of love.

Until he was betrayed.

Stabbed in the back by those closest to him, imprisoned in a cell as cold as a tomb. The news reached you like a blade across your heart. Still pregnant, still fragile, you went to the prison gates every week, hoping for nothing more than a glimpse of him.

Every time, you were refused. Until today.

When your pregnancy had reached five months and your belly had clearly begun to round, you stood once more before the iron bars. And this time, Lie Chen agreed to see you.

He was thinner. His beard unkempt. The eyes that had once been sharp now shrouded in heavy gloom. The moment you saw him, tears overflowed. One hand held your belly, your entire body trembling.

Lie Chen turned his face away.

“You should go. There’s nothing worth seeing here.”

His voice was still low, but now painfully hoarse.

“Take good care of yourself. Don’t neglect it. You’re living for two now, not just one.”

He fell silent for a long moment, then spoke again, quieter, as if punishing himself.

“If it becomes too hard, sell my house to get by. I’m useless. I can’t help you with anything.”