Finally stepping into the warmth of this haven, Betty was determined never to leave.
The tepid reception from Miles and Lisa was hard to ignore. Their aloofness made it clear that she, an uninvited guest, wasn't particularly welcome.
What if she left and they changed their minds about sheltering her? Returning to that icy, uninhabitable shack would mean certain death.
No—she couldn't allow that to happen.
Leaning weakly against the sofa, Betty sighed pitifully.
"Ryan, I'm too exhausted to move. Why don't you go instead? I'll stay here and watch over the child—she needs her mother."
Ryan, visibly conflicted, ultimately nodded.
"You're right. Stay here. I'll take care of it."
"No need…"
Watching Ryan all but offer up his life, Miles chuckled wryly.
"Lisa, take the child to the medical room. Let me know if you need anything."
Miles, as always, wore his cold exterior, but his actions revealed his true, warm heart.
Lisa beamed a bright smile, gently lifting the child. Betty instinctively stood and moved to follow them, her pace quickening as she approached the villa's main building.
Ryan intercepted her, his grip firm.
"Betty, no. You can't go there."
"Why not?"
Betty's gaze fixated longingly on the villa's elegant interior. Through the windows, she glimpsed exquisite furnishings and stunning artwork.
If Ryan's storage room was the gateway to paradise, the villa was where the gods resided.
Ryan's tone turned serious.
"Because it's Miles' home. Aside from Lisa, no one is allowed inside—ever."
He understood how much effort Miles had invested in building this sanctuary. He also knew that despite Miles' strength, he wouldn't tolerate even the smallest hint of uncertainty or risk in his surroundings.
"But… she's my child. How can I not stay by her side?"
Betty's voice quivered with sadness, though her eyes betrayed her concealed ambition.
"Please, Ryan, I just want to be with her. I'm begging you."
"No."
Ryan's tone was uncharacteristically firm.
"The doctor is one of the best. With her here, your child will recover. Trust her."
Miles merely smirked, leading Lisa and the child into the villa.
The underground lab, which Lisa had painstakingly set up, was equipped with an array of advanced instruments. Yet despite her best efforts, her experiments on the infected had yielded little progress.
Adjacent to the lab was a well-furnished medical room that Miles had prepared.
After setting up the necessary equipment from his spatial storage, Lisa began examining the child. Nearly thirty minutes passed before she emerged, wiping sweat from her brow.
"Good thing you stocked up on diagnostic tools," she said with a relieved sigh. "Otherwise, this child would've been beyond saving. But… Miles, that Betty woman seems rather greedy. I don't think she truly loves Ryan."
Miles, busy tinkering with a microscope, replied without looking up.
"It doesn't matter. As long as she behaves and doesn't stir up trouble, she can keep Ryan company."
Lisa chuckled.
"Let's hope so. Otherwise, you might have to deal with her the way you usually do."
Miles adjusted the microscope, shaking his head.
"Not this time. Eliminating her outright would only create divisions among us. Ryan needs to see her true colors for himself—otherwise, we risk internal discord."
Some lessons must be learned through experience. Words of warning often fall on deaf ears, leading only to resentment.
Lisa nodded, though she frowned slightly.
"But what about the child? She's so young… I've never taken care of a baby before. What do we do if she…"
"…needs changing?" Miles quipped, setting down the microscope and picking up a test tube with an amused shrug.
Just then, the child stirred in the medical room, her cries breaking the silence with an ear-piercing wail.
"Oh no, not this!"
Lisa groaned, stomping upstairs to fetch diapers and formula, grumbling all the way back.
Miles watched with barely concealed amusement as Lisa fumbled to change the diaper, letting out occasional squeals of frustration.
"She peed on my hand!"
Lisa yelped, retreating as though she'd been burned.
Miles couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, the sound filling the room.
Lisa glared at him, wiping her hands furiously.
"Don't just laugh—it's your fault for letting Ryan bring them here in the first place!"
Still chuckling, Miles leaned back.
"Weren't you the one who said I lacked compassion? And now you're blaming me?"
Lisa stammered, caught off guard, before huffing,
"Well… maybe this kind of compassion isn't necessary after all!"
Miles laughed even harder.
"Consider it practice. Next time, you'll be a pro."
Lisa froze, her cheeks turning crimson as her mind wandered.
"Who said I'd have kids with you?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she returned to changing the diaper, though the corners of her lips curled into a faint smile.
Practice? she thought, her heart racing. Does that mean he sees me as the mother of his children?
Her mind conjured images of tiny, chubby hands and feet—of a child with Miles' sharp features and her own soft charm.
Women are natural dreamers. A single sentence can set their imagination aflame, weaving endless futures from a single thread.
For now, Miles wasn't in any hurry to continue his lineage. But Lisa… perhaps she was already destined to be the mother of his child.
Of course, life has a way of surprising even the best-laid plans.
Meanwhile, back in the storage room, Betty's complexion had improved after her meal. Her pale skin now carried a healthy blush, enhancing her natural allure.
Miles' earlier observation remained true—this woman was far from naive.
Her deliberate actions betrayed her intentions. No dirt marred her face, her clothes were surprisingly neat, and her neckline… Those unbuttoned rows in subzero temperatures couldn't have been accidental.
If it wasn't a calculated move, Miles would bet his eyesight on it.
In a world where survival trumped all, Betty's obsession with appearances hinted at something deeper—a sharp mind driven by self-preservation.
Unfortunately, Ryan had already fallen under her spell.
Betty, her tears glistening in the dim light, played her part to perfection. Her voice trembled with maternal devotion as she spoke of her daughter, painting herself as a loving mother.
Ryan, lacking the skill to see through her facade, could only offer his clumsy reassurances.