Trapped In The Tyrannical CEO's Love

We're sorry, Ms. Sullivan, but with your current condition, an abortion isn't an option.

Adeline Sullivan, her eyes still covered by a soft white silk cloth, stumbled blindly out of the hospital doors. But just a second later, she was yanked back-caught tightly by Oliver Simpson, who had been tailing her closely.

Oliver hissed, "Adeline, why the hell are you running away? This is good news! Can't you see? The baby's father is Waylon-yes, Waylon-from the powerful Holden family! This child could make us filthy rich. Stop resisting and come with me. Watch your stomach, though. I promise, I won't hit you again."

Let go of me! Adeline cried out, her body trembling, her voice thick with fear.

She had once lived a peaceful life until a fire ripped her world apart, taking her family and her sight in a single night.

At first, Oliver had treated her with kindness and care. But the moment he realized the wealth her family once had was long gone, something in him changed. He turned violent, striking her without mercy.

Eventually, Oliver's cruelty had reached a new low-he planned to sell her off to cover his debts.

But that very night, Oliver had shoved her into Waylon Holden's room.

Adeline wasn't naïve. She knew exactly what Oliver was doing-he wanted to use her unborn child to squeeze money out of Waylon. And she knew-if she didn't escape today, she'd never get another shot. She was blind, helpless, and running out of time.

Just as Oliver was about to take Adeline away forcefully, the screech of tires cut through the air. A car pulled up, and in the next heartbeat, the grip crushing her arm vanished.

Mr... Mr. Holden... Oliver stammered.

Oliver Simpson? If my memory serves me right, your father used to be a loyal servant of the Sullivan family. And now you're here-treating Ms. Sullivan this harshly?

The voice sent a jolt through Adeline. It was Waylon! That night came rushing back in vivid, gut-wrenching flashes. The sealed room. The suffocating tension. The sound of fabric tearing. He had lurked like a predator in the shadows, ripping through the night with brutal force.

Oliver's voice quivered. "Mr. Holden, she's pregnant with your child. I-I was just trying to help you catch her..."

Though Adeline couldn't see, she could hear the fear woven into every word Oliver said. He was terrified.

Everyone feared Waylon. He was the eldest son of the president of the Holden Group. In Kranbu, his name alone made people tremble.

Pregnant? Waylon's voice dropped a note colder. "Ms. Sullivan, whose child are you carrying?"

Adeline's hands clenched into fists. This was her only chance to get away from Oliver. "Mr. Holden, please help me. Oliver... He's trying to force me into an abortion." She reached out, fumbling blindly until her fingers found the edge of Waylon's tailored sleeve and clung to it.

Oliver's eyes went wide with panic. "No! Mr. Holden, she's lying! I wouldn't dare harm anything tied to the Holden name!"

Tie him up, Waylon ordered, his eyes landing on Adeline's hand as he wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

Before Oliver could protest, his arms were seized, and he was dragged away.

Adeline didn't have time to react before she was pulled into a stretch limousine. Her body was shoved onto the sleek leather seats, her arms locked tightly at her sides.

Suddenly, she felt fingers clamp around her ankle. "Don't touch me!" she gasped, the words slipping out with a frightened cry.

Really, Ms. Sullivan? Didn't you just ask me for help? Waylon, calm as ever, popped open a medical kit and dipped a cotton swab in antiseptic. He began to clean the wounds on her foot with deliberate care.

Adeline fell silent. Yes, she'd asked for help. But that didn't mean she trusted Waylon. To her, Oliver was a monster, but Waylon was no saint.

Waylon's movements were precise, his expression unreadable, his handsome features showing no emotion. "Ms. Sullivan, I'm sure you understand my purpose. I simply wish to know the father of the baby you are carrying."

Adeline's cheeks burned with embarrassment. She kept her mouth shut, lips pressed together, refusing to answer. She could feel the weight behind his question, the insinuation that she had slept around since their intimate night.

But actually, it doesn't matter, Waylon added, a faint, mocking smirk in his voice.

Adeline's chest tightened. She understood exactly what he meant. The Holden family couldn't risk the disgrace of a child born out of wedlock. Whether the baby was truly Waylon's or not, it was still a stain they refused to bear. She drew in a shaky breath before whispering hoarsely, "Mr. Holden, I didn't plan any of this. Oliver spiked our drinks and forced me into your lounge that night. I didn't even know it was you. I'm not trying to trap you."

Waylon said nothing. His silence was like a wall.

Adeline's voice quivered as she added, "My condition can't handle an abortion. Please... Just let me live. I'll disappear-I'll leave this country for good. No one will ever know about your child..."

Her voice cracked near the end. But the moment the words left her lips, a sudden jolt of pain shot through her. "Ouch..." she gasped.

Waylon had pressed the cotton into her wounds with deliberate force, eyes following the blood that seeped out before he slowly raised his face to meet hers. His lips curled into a slow, sharp smile as her face contorted with pain. "Oh! So you really see yourself as innocent?" he asked, his smile twisting with cruel amusement.