On the light-colored bed, two figures ambiguously entwined together.

"John Peter, get off me!" Grace Philips gritted her teeth, with fierce anger burning in her large eyes.

Get off?

A sneer curled up his lips, his cold countenance getting close to hers. "Grace Philips, stop acting like a chaste martyr. You've already crawled onto my bed. Don't you think it's too late now to pretend otherwise?"

"You!" A feeling of extreme humiliation surged in her.

With an irrefutable dominance, the man firmly controlled the petite her, leaving her to passively accept his kiss.

Grace Philips gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowed, her long straight legs quickly bent, and she forcefully kicked towards the man's vulnerable area.

John Peter quickly reacted, pressing down her legs to prevent her resistance, with a darkening expression. "Grace Philips, you're insane?!"

"If you dare touch me again, I'll show you what it's like to have no offspring!" Grace Philips angrily stared back at him, her cheeks flushed.

Uncertain if it was due to shame or anger.

However, John Peter just coldly laughed, no warmth in his eyes. "You think you have the right to resist?"

His strong legs trapped hers.

"Shameless! Scoundrel! Rogue!"

Unable to move, Grace Philips was extremely panicked, and angrily cursed out loud.

John Peter paid her no mind, lowering his head, leaving trace after trace on her fair skin.

Grace Philips was nearly in despair.

Just at that moment, the cell phone on the bedside table lit up and a unique text message ringtone rang out.

"John Peter, I guess I can only have a passing connection with you... Wishing you a happy marriage, I won't bother you anymore. I will disappear from now on and hope you can forget me..."

Upon seeing this message, John Peter's eyes darkened and he bolted upright, grabbing his coat and rushed out the door.

"John Peter, where are you going?"

Just as he reached the door, a stern rebuke cut through the silence of the night. Wearing her pajamas, Ida Whitemore stood at the railing on the second floor, her eyes filled with seriousness.

"Mom, I have something urgent to attend, you should go to bed earlier." He did not turn around to respond to her.

"Stay right there!" Ida Whitemore gripped the railing tightly with her well-maintained white fingers as she fired back furiously. "Are you going to see Aurelia Miller again? You are not allowed to!"

"Mom..." There was a hint of helplessness in his tone, but the statement was filled with defiance and determination. "I have to go. Aurelia Miller, she…"

"I do not want to hear anything about that woman! You need to realize that Grace Philips is carrying your child! You're soon to be married! Stay!"

In the muted light near the entrance, the man's tall and slender figure seemed even more imposing. The interplay of light and shadow cast a chilling and heart-stopping aura.

"I never wanted that child, nor did I want to marry that woman. I will never acknowledge her or the child she carries!"

With these coldly determined words, he left without looking back.

"Come back, you disobedient child! You... you disobedient child..."

Comforting the trembling hands of Ida Whitemore, who was consumed by anger, an icy palm softly grasped hers. "Ida Whitemore, calm down."

"Grace Philips......" Ida Whitemore exclaims, her eyes filled with guilt and worry. "Why... why are you still awake? Don't overthink things. When John Peter returns, I'll definitely give him a good scolding! He'll realize your worth sooner or later..."

"Ida Whitemore, I understand," Grace Philips says, her lovely face exuding sincerity and warmth. She soothes Ida Whitemore with a gentle nod. "I'm fine, don't be angry."

After the Philips family's downfall, Henry Philips had made her life a living hell. Even if her uncles wanted to lend a helping hand, they had to consider the possible repercussions.

Based on her past friendship with Grace Philips' mother, Gracella, Ida Whitemore had not only taken her in and cared for her diligently but also provided a high level of medical care for Gracella, who was now in a vegetative state.

Of everyone in the John family, Ida Whitemore was the only one who genuinely cared for her, offering her the warmth of a mother's love.

Grace Philips was deeply appreciative.

The more Grace Philips exhibited her maturity and understanding, the more Ida Whitemore's heart ached for her.

With a sigh, Ida Whitemore tightly grips Grace Philips' hand, unable to hide her sorrow.

Grace Philips leans in affectionately, lifting her lips in a smile. "Aunt Ida Whitemore, it's already late. We should rest now."

"Alright. I'll accompany you until you're asleep," suppressing her inner turmoil, Ida Whitemore gently pats Grace Philips' hand.

Without any reluctance, Grace Philips gives a nod, linking her arm with Ida Whitemore's as they return to their room.

Meanwhile, at the hundred-story mansion.

John Peter swiftly dashes through the hallways and frantically presses the doorbell outside Aurelia Miller's room.

The room behind the door remains silent, akin to a chilling tomb emanating an icy aura.

Despite the possibility of causing disturbances, John Peter pounds on the door. "Aurelia Miller! Aurelia Miller, open the door!"