"My father... is the leader of the Sakhalin Branch."

Lying in bed, Ligai confessed it with a hollowed-out expression, like he was no longer in his own body. He had both hands covering his face as if trying to hide his shame.

"Because I’m the cult leader’s biological son... I was given a different path than the other brothers. I went to school. Got into university."

"......."

"That guilt—it’s like something wrapped around my neck. But I... I still have to succeed him. I have to take over the branch once the ongoing research is complete. When that’s done, I’ll go back to Sakhalin. But... if I have a child..."

He dragged a hand down his face like the thought repulsed him.

"That’s why I planned to live alone, Zoya. But then I met you. I loved you. And I’m sorry for saying this, but... I don’t want it. I don’t want to pass Sakhalin on to my child."

After that, he stopped eating altogether and locked himself in the prayer room, not emerging once.

Standing before the tightly closed door, Ju Seolheon thought—maybe Damon had been right. Even if she’d become Ligai’s wife, she hadn’t even come close to touching the center of him.

She’d seduced him, coaxed him, even pressured him to marry—but in the end, she’d never crossed the inner boundary. And in a way, the futility of it all was so devastating, it made her laugh.

So if she couldn’t cross it, she’d have to step on it.

"Would you prefer I got rid of the baby?"

The door that hadn’t opened in days flew open.

Of course. This man wasn’t someone who gave up his coat in the sunshine—he needed the wind to rip it off of him.

She’d wasted so much time playing the love card, which had never suited her in the first place. The more she cared, the more vacant his smile became. The only time she got a real reaction was when she cornered him.

"You’re a coward. So I said it for you."

"A-Ah..."

As expected, his face turned pale.

"If that’s what you want, I’ll do it."

"Zoya..."

Ju Seolheon didn’t know how extreme the Sakhalin Branch’s doctrines were, but she was certain about this: opposing abortion was universal in every cult. She looked at her husband’s terror-stricken face with an unreadable calm.

It wasn’t a joyful pregnancy. For her, it was a long-awaited victory. But the sight of him turning white made her feel like her insides were collapsing. There was no happiness in it at all.

"I’ve already committed too many sins, Zoya... There’s no way to atone for all of them..."

"Then what do you want me to do?!"

"My father has people all around me. If I start to show, he’ll find out for sure..."

His pupils darted like a frightened animal. There was some truth in the idea that Ligai was cracking under mental pressure. After all, even his ex-wife had been one of his father’s spies. Ju Seolheon kept her expression neutral.

"Zoya... couldn’t we send the baby to Korea? Put her up for adoption there?"

"No. Come to America with me instead." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

She took the chance to press again.

"If you hate Sakhalin that much, let’s leave together. We have options."

"But I left my brothers behind... I can’t run away on my own again."

His face was ashen. Ju Seolheon couldn’t understand the guilt or blind loyalty that consumed him.

A man who obeyed his father but never once set foot on his homeland. A man shackled by Sakhalin’s doctrine, yet unable to stomach passing it on to his own child.

She stared at the contradiction he lived in. Adoption? If the child wasn’t born for her, then what was the point of this pregnancy? She steeled herself coldly.

From that day forward, Ligai began waking nightly, soaked in cold sweat, as if tormented by nightmares. On days when his father’s letters arrived, he’d freeze like a child in the hallway, disoriented, unable to move.

Then he’d fall silent again, opening only his ragged old Bible, worn down to shreds. Watching him made her feel suffocated—he was pitiful, almost revolting.

"Please, Zoya... I can’t be a father... This child would be happier that way. Let’s send her to Korea. I’m begging you. I shouldn’t have a child. I don’t want to have a child..."

He was always so tormented about the siblings he’d left behind—yet dared to abandon his own child?

Sometimes her anger surged so suddenly it felt absurd.

For months now, Ligai hadn’t been able to look her in the eye—or at her growing belly.

As her stomach grew, so did the tumor of despair between them. Their marriage deteriorated rapidly. Every time his gaze lingered near her belly in fear, it was as if something inhuman was growing inside her. Seolheon became sharp, irritable, increasingly cruel.

"How many times do I have to say it?! Stop looking at me like that! Don’t you dare look at me with those eyes! Did I carry another man’s child? This is our baby—not some demon!"

"Z-Zoya, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—!"

"Then fix that horrible look in your eyes! The way you stare at me ruins everything! It makes me feel disgusting!"

"I-I’m sorry..."

"Every time you avoid me... I start to wonder what the hell I’m even carrying! It doesn’t feel like a baby—more like a parasite! I feel rotten!"

Ligai wiped his eyes, murmuring apologies over and over—but he still never came closer. The shy smiles he once gave her had long since disappeared.

As she approached her due date, he began staying out at night.

Coward. Weakling. Cult brat.

So he was hard to reach because of his involvement in a radical sect? Damon had been right. That night too, she slammed her notebook shut, cursing under her breath while writing up another report.

She had thought he’d choose America for the child’s sake, but all she got in return was the end of their marriage.

"I hear Ligai’s been seeing someone else."

Agent Damon handed her a stack of paparazzi photos while gazing placidly at a still lake.

One image showed Ligai walking beside a pretty East Asian woman with short hair. Seolheon felt her heart drop—but her only visible reaction was the twitch of a frown.

They weren’t alone in all the photos, but the way they looked at each other—their smiles—were perfectly matched. The woman leaned in close, brushed shoulders with him, gently touched his arm with concern. With each photo she flipped, the baby inside kicked harder.

"Who’s that man in the corner of the frame?" she asked.

"Ivan Solzhenitsyn."

"Solzhenitsyn? You mean... the Prime Minister’s family?"

"Correct. Only son of Prime Minister Maxim."

"Why would someone like him be involved with Ligai Viktor?"

Her brow furrowed in disbelief.

"Officially, they were classmates at Moscow University. Ivan Solzhenitsyn is a physician. Plenty of overlap. We’re looking into the details. But—"

Damon lit a cigarette and glanced sidelong at her.

"Shouldn’t you be the one keeping track of who your husband is meeting and reporting it to me?"

"......!"

Ju Seolheon stepped back, covering her mouth and nose with one hand.

"Ligai Viktor, a man who’s been a recluse all his life, is now regularly meeting people—and his wife doesn’t know? You’ve gotten careless, Zoya. Or is playing mommy more your style these days?"

The words sliced straight into her pride.

"Things... aren’t what they used to be."

She was the one who brought him this far—he who couldn’t even wipe a stain from his glasses. She had tiptoed around his clumsiness, pretended to be gentle, made herself someone she wasn’t. And now he was with another woman?

That woman was also a doctor from Moscow University.

Seolheon crushed the photos in her fist.

"Ever since I got pregnant, Ligai’s heart drifted."

"......."

"Like I told you before, this isn’t something I can fix. Ligai’s breaking down over this pregnancy. The only solution is to end it."

"Then do it."

"......!"

Seolheon instinctively placed a hand on her heavy belly.

"What’s the point of giving birth if it costs you Ligai?

"What...?"

"Say the baby died during labor. I’ll make sure it’s arranged."

Her stiff shoulders abruptly loosened.

"Zoya. Do not lose this target. Once he finishes his ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) research, Ligai will be a kingmaker. The hospital will be ready."

When she returned home, her husband still hadn’t come back.

Again.

In the back of her mind, the image of that pretty woman replayed endlessly—along with Ligai’s smile, a smile that no longer belonged to her.

All night long, she endured wave after wave of labor pains. She had never wanted a natural birth. But she clenched her jaw so tight her molars shifted, and finally forced out the hot, wet mass of flesh.

The baby came head-first, fast and violent.

"Ah... haah... haha..."

At last... she had obtained something irreplaceable.

Something beyond price, beyond comparison.

This child would prove her existence.

This child would save her.

Through this child’s umbilical cord, she herself would rise to the top.

She didn’t look at the baby’s face.

Only checked the genitals.

It was a girl.