Catherine Bella Han:
"Mr. Kang! How can you abandon me after getting me pregnant?! You took my virginity and left me like trash!"
My voice echoed through the opulent hotel lobby, cracking just right on "trash" for maximum drama. I dropped to my knees, the cold marble biting into my skin through my thin stockings, and let the tears flow—real ones mixed with the fake for authenticity. Around us, the crowd of business elites and tourists gasped, phones whipping out to capture the spectacle. Camera flashes from the reporters blinded me, but I didn't care. This was my stage.
Kang Tae-joon stood there like a statue carved from ice and shadows—tall, broad-shouldered, his black suit hugging a body that screamed power and danger. His face was a mask of indifference, but I caught that flicker in his eyes, the faint crimson glow I'd sworn I'd imagined before. What are you hiding behind that perfect facade, Mr. Devil? I thought, even as I played my part.
The reporters exploded into action.
"Oh my God, is this for real?"
"Mr. Kang, care to comment on the allegations?"
"Miss Han, how long have you been involved?"
I ignored them, lunging forward on my knees to grab at his pant leg, my manicured nails digging in just enough to sell the desperation. "Please, Tae-joon! How can you do this to us?! Think about the baby! Our little one needs a father—you can't just walk away!"
The word "baby" sent the lobby into a frenzy. A woman in a designer gown nearby whispered loudly to her companion, "That's Catherine Bella Han—the illegitimate one. This is huge!" A man in a suit chuckled nervously, "Kang Tae-joon? Knocking up a chaebol reject? No way."
Kang Tae-joon finally reacted. He looked down at me, his lips curling into a sneer that sent chills down my spine—not from fear, but from the thrill of it. His voice was low, velvet wrapped around steel, audible only to me and the closest mic. "You're more foolish than I thought, Miss Han. This little show won't end well for you."
Oh, but it will for me, I thought, my heart pounding. You have no idea how deep this goes.
His bodyguards—two massive walls of muscle in dark suits—stepped forward, one grabbing my arm roughly. "Ma'am, step back," he growled.
I yanked away, turning the motion into a dramatic flail. "Don't touch me! I'm carrying his child!" The reporters ate it up, shouting more questions.
"Mr. Kang, is the baby yours?"
"How long has this affair been going on?"
"Any plans for marriage?"
Kang Tae-joon scoffed, a sound like distant thunder, and shook me off with effortless strength. His hand brushed my shoulder, and for a split second, it felt unnaturally warm—like fire under his skin. There it is again, my mind raced. That heat. That… otherness. Who are you really?
"Pathetic," he muttered, loud enough for the mics this time. Then he turned, striding through the revolving doors without a backward glance. His Maybach purred to life outside, tires screeching as it sped away.
The lobby erupted. Reporters swarmed me like bees to honey.
"Miss Catherine, how far along are you?"
"Are you seeking child support? Custody?"
"Did he know about the pregnancy before today?"
I pressed a hand to my "belly," sniffling as I stood shakily. "I… I just wanted him to do the right thing. For our family." My voice trembled—Oscar-worthy. Inside, I was buzzing. Keep talking, vultures. Spread it far and wide.
But I couldn't linger. I pushed through the throng, murmuring "No comment, please," as flashes popped in my face. One persistent reporter blocked my path. "Is this about your grandmother's inheritance? Rumors say you need a husband fast!"
My stomach twisted—how did they know? But I played it off with a heartbroken sob. "This isn't about money. It's about love… and betrayal."
Finally, I broke free, dashing to the side exit where my driver, loyal old Mr. Kim, waited with the black SUV idling. I dove into the backseat, slamming the door just as the reporters pounded on the window.
"Drive," I gasped, sinking into the leather.
Mr. Kim peeled out with a nod, no questions asked. He'd been with Grandma for years—knew the score.
The adrenaline crashed over me like a wave. I wiped the mascara streaks from my cheeks, laughing breathlessly. "Did you get it all? Every angle?"
He handed me his tablet over the seat. "Better than a blockbuster, Miss. The knee-grab? Gold. And that 'pathetic' line from him? The internet's gonna explode."
I scrolled through the clips—my tear-streaked face, his cold rejection, the crowd's shocked reactions. Perfect. I attached the best ones and hit send to Grandma.
One step closer, I thought, echoing her earlier words. My phone buzzed seconds later.
Grandma: You mean my soon to be son inlaw is Tae-joon?
A warmth spread in my chest—rare, genuine. Grandma was the only one who'd ever fought for me.
As the city lights streaked by, memories flooded in unbidden. I was six, clutching a ragged teddy bear, standing in the rain outside Father's mansion after Mom's funeral. She'd been his "secret," the pretty assistant he kept hidden until cancer took her. "You're a Han now," he'd said gruffly, but his wife's eyes had screamed intruder.
The half-siblings—two brothers and a sister, all polished and perfect—tormented me. "Bastard girl," they'd whisper. Locked me out of rooms, "forgot" me at family events. The staff pitied me, but no one dared cross the wife.
Except Grandma. She'd sweep in like a queen, scoop me up for weekends at her estate. "You're smarter than all of them combined, Catherine," she'd say, teaching me business over tea. "One day, you'll show them."
Now, on her deathbed, she was giving me that chance. 30% of her holdings—properties, shares, enough to build my own empire. But the catch: marriage. "Stability," she called it. A jab at my "unstable" origins.
I wasn't about to marry just anyone. No. I needed someone who'd make them all choke on their silver spoons.
Which is why Kang Tae-joon.
I smirked, leaning my head against the cool window. He wasn't just any billionaire. Whispers in the underground circles called him the Red Horn Devil—a literal demon in human skin, handsome as sin, with power that bent reality. I'd laughed it off at first… until I saw those eyes glow at the gala.
Months ago, I'd marched into Kang Industries with a killer business proposal—AI tech to revolutionize their logistics. His bodyguards didn't even let me past the lobby. "Mr. Kang doesn't see walk-ins," they sneered, escorting me out like trash.
Then the charity gala. I'd finally cornered him, pitch ready. He "tripped," spilling wine down my silk gown. The room laughed. He smirked. "Oops. Better luck next time, little girl."
Little girl? The humiliation burned. That night, digging into him online, I uncovered the rumors: unnatural deals, enemies vanishing, that crimson flash in photos.
He was perfect. Untouchable image to shatter. Power to leverage.
Dirty the cold, single billionaire's rep as a hit-and-run jerk. Force a marriage to "save face." Get my inheritance. And maybe… uncover what makes him tick.
Revenge wrapped in a wedding ring.
I laughed aloud, startling Mr. Kim. "Something funny, Miss?"
"Just thinking about the headlines tomorrow."
I laughed softly in the backseat, but as the SUV rolled through the towering iron gates of the Han mansion, the sound died in my throat. The entire estate was lit up like a Christmas tree—every window blazing. My gilded prison was wide awake, and it was furious.
Mr. Kim barely parked before I slipped out, smoothing my dress and wiping away the last traces of fake tears. The front doors loomed ahead, heavy oak carved with the family crest. I took a deep breath and stepped inside.
The shouting hit me first.
"You ungrateful little whore! How dare you drag our name through the mud like this!"
Father's voice boomed from the grand living room, echoing off marble floors and crystal chandeliers. I froze in the foyer, heart hammering. He was pacing like a caged tiger, face red, veins bulging at his temples. My stepmother sat on the sofa, arms crossed, lips curled in smug satisfaction. And there, perched on the staircase like a queen surveying her court, was my half-sister Lara—perfect hair, perfect dress, perfect venomous smile.
All three pairs of eyes snapped to me the second I appeared in the archway.
"There she is—the family disgrace," Lara drawled, flipping her long hair. "Did you enjoy your little performance, Bella? Rolling around on the hotel floor like some cheap drama actress?"
Father whirled on me. "Catherine Bella Han! Do you have any idea what you've done? Kang Tae-joon? Of all people? You claim that man got you pregnant? Have you lost your mind? You're an embarrassment—a filthy stain on this family!"
Each word was a slap. I felt my cheeks burn, but I kept my chin high. Let them scream. It's all part of the plan.
Before I could answer, the soft whir of an electric wheelchair cut through the tension.
Everyone went silent.
Grandma glided into the room, frail but regal, wrapped in a silk shawl despite the warm air. Her silver hair was perfectly pinned, her eyes sharp as ever. The nurse pushed her to the center of the room, then quietly retreated.
I dropped to my knees immediately, hurrying to her side. "Grandma…"
She reached out a trembling hand and cupped my cheek, studying my face. The room held its breath.
"Is it true, Bella?" she asked softly, voice steady. "Are you really carrying Kang Tae-joon's child?"
My throat tightened. This was the moment. One wrong word and the whole lie could crumble. But Grandma's eyes—those wise, loving eyes—were pleading for me to play along.
I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, Grandma. I… I am."
Lara burst out laughing, a sharp, cruel sound. "Oh please! Kang Tae-joon? The Kang Tae-joon? That man wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. He's got supermodels begging at his feet. Bella? She's delusional."
Father rubbed his temples, muttering, "Like mother, like daughter…"
The words stung like acid, but before I could snap back, Grandma's voice cracked through the room like a whip.
"Enough!"
Even Father flinched.
Grandma's gaze sliced to Lara. "If Kang Tae-joon is truly Bella's boyfriend—or her secret lover—then you will apologize. Right now."
Lara rolled her eyes dramatically. "Whatever. She's lying, and everyone knows it."
"Shut up, Lara!" I hissed, finally finding my voice.
She smirked. "Make me." Then she turned on her heel, heels clicking up the staircase. "This is pathetic."
Father exhaled sharply, shooting me one last disgusted look before storming out toward his study, slamming the door behind him.
The living room fell eerily quiet.
Grandma waited until we were alone, then gently took both my hands in hers. Her fingers were cold, paper-thin, but her grip was fierce. Tears welled in her eyes—real ones.
"This is beautiful, Bella," she whispered, voice trembling with pride and emotion. "I never knew you could knock down such a handsome, powerful man… My brave girl."
I forced a watery smile, guilt twisting in my gut. She was so proud—so happy to see me finally "win."
Then she squeezed my hands tighter, eyes sparkling with determination.
"Bring him to dinner tomorrow."
My heart stopped.
"Huh?!" The word exploded out of me, high-pitched and panicked.
Grandma nodded firmly, as if it were the most natural request in the world. "Family dinner. Here. Tomorrow night. I want to meet the father of my great-grandchild."
The room spun.
Kang Tae-joon. The Red Horn Devil himself. Cold. Ruthless. The man who'd called me pathetic just hours ago.
At our dinner table?
Oh no.
Oh no, no, no.
"Grandma, I—" The words choked in my throat. My knees buckled, and I sank fully to the floor in front of her wheelchair, clutching her hands like a lifeline.
Grandma tilted her head, confused but still smiling softly. "Bella? What's wrong, darling? You're in trouble if he refuses, aren't you? Then we'll just have to convince him together."
I stared up at her, eyes wide, mind screaming.
Grandma… I can't…
He's going to kill me.