In the twilight city of Ethereal Heights, Isabella Morgan, sovereign queen of the world's most prestigious dream manipulation conglomerate, faces the greatest enigma of her thirty years—she's pregnant, with no recollection of who planted this seed of life within her womb.

## 01

"So, what's the diagnosis? Nothing too serious with my health, I hope?" I casually flicked the diagnostic dreamcatcher on my wrist while questioning the young physician trembling before me.

Lately, I've been uncharacteristically lethargic, my appetite diminished, and exhaustion seems to follow me like a shadow. This isn't like me at all. Isabella Morgan, renowned for her iron will and limitless energy, struggling to remain alert during board meetings? Inconceivable.

The nervous doctor before me, Dr. Julian West, is a rising star in dream medicine. Judging by his ashen complexion and quivering hands, I fear I might have contracted something incurable.

If that's the case, I must keep it confidential for now. The Board of Dreamweavers has been circling like vultures, waiting for me to show any sign of weakness.

I gestured to activate the room's privacy field, cutting off all surveillance devices, and spoke directly: "Tell me the truth. How bad is it?"

"Miss Morgan, you're... you're..." Dr. West dropped to one knee, his voice barely above a whisper, "You're ten weeks pregnant."

My teacup crashed to the floor.

This was completely unexpected.

No wonder I've felt so off lately. Thirty years old, single, residing in the corporate penthouse atop Ethereal Tower, never publicly dating anyone—tabloids constantly speculate about my private affairs, claiming I'm romantically entangled with this senator today, that heir tomorrow. Now that I'm actually pregnant, those rumors will seem validated.

Yet even I don't know who fathered this child.

The blame lies entirely with that dream-solstice gala ten weeks ago.

That night, dream corporation executives and government officials from around the world gathered together. I indulged in several glasses of enchanted dreamwine before seeking solitude on the tower's observation deck. Then, inexplicably, dizziness overwhelmed me, and I floated through what seemed like an exquisite hallucination.

The following morning, my personal assistant Claire found me in an abandoned dream laboratory.

I awoke aching all over, particularly between my thighs. The laboratory was saturated with residual dream energy and something more intimate, the experimental table in disarray, with a telling crimson stain.

Claire froze in shock.

Only then did I realize—what I'd experienced wasn't a dream but reality—some man and I had shared passionate intimacy in that laboratory, throughout the night. Yet my mind retained no image of his face.

"Miss Morgan, your brother Nathan requests to see you." Claire's voice pulled me back to the present.

I glanced toward Dr. West, still kneeling, and said coldly: "If word of this leaks, not just you, but your entire family will vanish without a trace. Understood?"

"Completely... understood! My lips are sealed!"

**

"Izzy, I heard you weren't feeling well and called a doctor. Nothing serious, I hope?" Nathan burst into my office with his characteristic energy, trailed by assistants and security personnel.

Nathan became Chairman of the Dream Council at just twenty-three, while I was only twenty-seven. We siblings supported each other through countless power struggles in both the dream world and business realm, enduring numerous hardships to reach our current positions.

If Nathan discovered his sister was taken advantage of in her own tower and now carried someone's child, he'd likely tear Ethereal Heights apart.

"Nothing concerning, just some unstable dream patterns." I barely finished speaking before a wave of nausea struck.

I tried to suppress it but failed, retching audibly before Nathan.

Nathan immediately embraced me, gently rubbing my back, asking an assistant to fetch water. "What's happening? Izzy, what's really going on?"

I leaned against him, reminiscent of how I'd hold him during childhood illnesses. Fearful he might suspect something, I explained: "Dream pattern instability causes nausea. Water will help."

After drinking, Nathan insisted I rest. I reclined on the sofa, watching assistants bring in his unfinished paperwork.

"You're working here?" I asked, puzzled.

Nathan replied, "I don't trust your assistant to care for you properly."

I've been increasingly drowsy lately, and soon fell asleep on the sofa. Each time I awakened, Nathan was diligently working at my desk. Seeing him so focused filled me with pride.

My Nathan has matured into a handsome, responsible man capable of bearing the dream world's responsibilities.

**

Nathan stayed with me all night, finally departing in the early hours.

After bidding Nathan farewell, I immediately summoned Dr. West, telling him I didn't want this child.

"Miss Morgan, your dream core is extraordinarily sensitive. I fear potent termination elixirs could cause irreversible damage," he cautioned.

"Then I'll keep it. You'll handle all future examinations."

At thirty, countless men worldwide aspire to become my partner. However, such relationships entail family alliances, corporate mergers, and political balancing—for Nathan's stable position on the Dream Council, I've avoided choosing a partner. Perhaps having a child for companionship wouldn't be so bad.

The child can stay, but its father must disappear forever.

## 02

I began investigating potential fathers discreetly. The executive guest list from that night's gala appeared on my holographic display, arranged hierarchically. Topping the list was Dream Council Vice-Chairman Alexander Reed—the most likely suspect.

I summoned him to my office.

"Miss Morgan, how may I be of service?" Alexander, thirty-two, is the youngest Vice-Chairman in Dream Council history. His dream algorithms are renowned industry-wide, idolized by countless dream students—seemingly righteous and dignified.

I instructed Claire and others to leave, leaving only Alexander and myself.

Alexander's demeanor transformed instantly, his gaze softening with intimacy: "Bella, why summon me so late?"

Bella is my private nickname.

"Can't I simply miss you?" I asked with a slight smile.

"Of course." Alexander approached, taking my hand and encircling my waist, whispering in my ear, "So our Ice Queen actually misses me."

His warm breath caressed my ear, sending tingles through half my body.

Tabloid speculations about my promiscuity aren't entirely baseless—my relationship with Alexander certainly isn't innocent.

When Nathan's Council Chairman position remained precarious, with many coveting it, I approached Alexander. Then merely a junior dream researcher, various factions sought to recruit him. I exploited the admiration in his eyes when we first met, drawing him into Nathan's and my alliance.

Subsequently, through political storms, Nathan's position strengthened while Alexander steadily rose to Vice-Chairman.

I recognize that the unattainable is eternally alluring, so I've always kept him at arm's length.

He, of course, understands my motives.

Alexander's kisses descended to my cheek and neck, his hands slipping beneath my blouse. His breathing grew heavy: "Bella, when will you truly accept me?"

His kisses elicited soft moans from me as I collapsed in his arms, my blouse partially unbuttoned, shoulders partially exposed. Where was the Dream Empress now? I appeared entirely his.

"Why not become my official partner? I could move out of the tower. My private villa is yours whenever you desire."

"Or Bella could retire as Dream Corporation CEO and become the Dream Council Vice-Chairman's wife." Alexander paused, staring intensely at me.

Meeting his gaze, I caressed his sharply defined jaw, asking hopefully: "What if we leave everything behind and start anew somewhere no one knows us?"

Alexander's eyes darkened momentarily before replacing the intensity with casual mockery. He squeezed my waist punitively: "Bella wants to eliminate Nathan's concerns? You're truly skilled at discarding your tools."

I knew he wouldn't agree. While he harbors some affection for me, he craves power more.

As do I. Alexander and I are remarkably similar.

Alexander's hand at my waist began descending toward my abdomen. Thinking of my unborn child, I stopped his wandering hand.

"What's wrong?"

"Ticklish," I deflected, changing subjects to probe, "Do you remember that gala ten weeks ago?"

"Yes, why?"

"After the gala I wanted to find you, but couldn't. Where did you go?"

Alexander suddenly nipped my neck: "Why bring up something from two months ago? Planning something mischievous again?"

In recent years, my relationship with Alexander has grown increasingly complex, filled with mutual suspicion. Perhaps this exemplifies "sharing hardships but not prosperity." He now represents Nathan's greatest threat.

"What mischief could I plan? Can't I be jealous?" I kissed his prominent Adam's apple lightly. "Yesterday I watched a drama about drunken indiscretions and recalled that night, wondering if Vice-Chairman Reed sought other women."

Men truly cannot resist provocation. Alexander's eyes ignited as he kissed my lips, preventing further conversation.

My seduction of this old fox yielded nothing. His cunning and sensitivity detect the slightest probe. Likely it wasn't Alexander. Had I been so overtly suggestive and it been him, he'd have admitted it already. For him, it would be advantageous—he's always desired me.

Unless he didn't recognize me that night.

I grew concerned, hoping it wasn't Alexander.

After all, Alexander isn't easily managed.

## 03

I continued searching for suspects beyond Alexander.

That executive list received my thorough scrutiny, yet yielded no clues.

I decided to meet each potential candidate, hoping to trigger some recollection.

The quarterly board meeting offered the perfect opportunity to see everyone simultaneously.

"Mr. Chairman, how can Miss Morgan, a woman, interfere with Dream Council internal affairs? Outsiders will think the dream world is controlled by Morgan Corporation."

"Are you questioning my judgment? Izzy frequently accompanied me to council meetings before. What's different now?"

"Mr. Chairman, before was before!"

Currently, I'm seated in the observation section behind the meeting room, listening to Elder Blackwood's relentless complaints. Enough already—I can't believe Nathan tolerates this.

This old man always believed I interfered with Dream Council matters and resented my influence. He finally got his wish when I stopped attending council meetings, yet he still guards against me, and now I've returned, naturally displeasing him.

I discreetly observe these councilors and executives, studying each face, feeling each looks both possible and impossible.

Blackwood continues his tirade while my gaze falls upon him.

Surely it couldn't be this fifty-something old man?

The thought sends a shiver through me.

That night I could barely walk when leaving the laboratory, suggesting considerable passion—likely from a physically robust man, not some frail elder.

I must be getting desperate in my search to entertain such notions.

I sense eyes penetrating the privacy barrier, looking over to find Alexander in the councilor's prime seat.

The audacity to flirt with glances amid a crowded meeting! I glare back.

Meanwhile, the meeting hall erupts in fresh debate.

Nathan has been Chairman for two years but hasn't confirmed an official partner. Led by Blackwood, certain councilors urge Nathan to quickly choose a partner and continue the ancestral bloodline. Nathan considers this meddlesome.

I agree these stubborn traditionalists are being ridiculous. Nathan has only one fiancée, Olivia, with whom he shares deep affection. Nathan is young; bloodline continuation isn't urgent. Besides, our father's numerous offspring fought viciously for power—who survived?

**

The meeting concluded with no progress in my investigation.

Nathan, noticing my preoccupation, asked, "Izzy, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, just haven't slept well." I yawned.

Nathan tucked a loose strand of my hair behind my ear: "Feeling better?"

I nodded: "The doctor says it needs gradual treatment."

"Griffin has returned. After reporting to me, I'll send him back to you."

Griffin serves as my personal guardian. Apart from Nathan, he and Claire have my absolute trust. Two weeks ago, I lent Griffin to Nathan for some business.

When Griffin returned, Claire was delivering Dr. West's prenatal tonic.

"Is Miss Morgan ill?" he inquired.

Everyone perceives Griffin as a stoic protector, but he's remarkably attentive and considerate. With his return, my investigation should progress more smoothly.

After drinking that bitter medicine, Griffin offered water and crystallized dream-fruit. Sweetness dissolved in my mouth: "Griffin, I'm pregnant, about ten weeks along."

Griffin's hand supporting mine suddenly tightened, veins bulging prominently, gripping painfully.

I gasped sharply.

Griffin regained composure, immediately releasing me, kneeling on one knee with self-reproach: "Had I accompanied you that night, this wouldn't have happened."

He and Claire are the only two who know. That morning, he discretely returned me to my penthouse.

"I explicitly ordered you not to follow me."

"Does Miss Morgan intend... to keep the child?"

I affirmed with a sound: "Help me identify that man, then eliminate him."

## 04

Yet even Griffin couldn't uncover any leads.

This was becoming increasingly bizarre.

I suspect this was an elaborately planned conspiracy. That man hides in shadows, awaiting the perfect moment to blackmail me with this, ultimately threatening Nathan's position.

Until finding him, my pregnancy must remain absolutely secret.

Days passed, my figure growing increasingly voluptuous. Even Nathan noticed.

I convinced Nathan my weight gain resulted from excessive eating and minimal exercise, barely diverting his suspicion. Subsequently, I began avoiding public appearances, rejecting all visitors citing health issues. Alexander faced multiple rejections.

While others could be deterred, Nathan remained unstoppable.

Hearing Claire mention Nathan's unannounced arrival, I panicked, hastily lying on the sofa, covering my now-visible pregnant belly with a blanket.

Outside came Nathan's angry voice: "Griffin, you dare obstruct me? I must see Isabella today."

Moments later, Nathan entered, Griffin trailing behind.

"Refusing to let your brother visit? Careful, you might infect me." I silently signaled Griffin to withdraw.

"Izzy," Nathan's expression softened considerably as he sat beside me, "Are you seriously ill?"

"Just a minor cold."

Nathan leaned forward, feeling my forehead, still insisting on calling a doctor.

Fortuitously, Dr. West arrived. After examining me, he stated: "Miss Morgan indeed has a cold. Combined with her previous weakened condition, she needs rest." This young doctor proved quite adaptable.

I asked Nathan: "Satisfied now?"

After dismissing Dr. West, Nathan tucked my blanket around me.

Looking at him, I said: "We're adults now and should respect gender boundaries. Don't barge into my apartment anymore."

Nathan paused, staring intently: "And if I refuse?"

In recent years, Nathan has grown increasingly reserved, his eyes unfathomable, often making his thoughts unreadable. But that's preferable.

I smiled helplessly: "Still childish."

Nathan also smiled: "Rest well, sister."

Finally convincing Nathan to leave allayed his suspicions. I exhaled in relief, removed the blanket, and sat up. Claire brought me warm water.

When Griffin entered, I said: "Naturally you couldn't stop Nathan."

"Miss Morgan, let's say the child is mine, that I... forced myself on you."

I nearly choked on water: "Griffin, don't complicate matters. Nathan would kill you."

"A worthy death. Once the child is born, you need only provide an identity to raise it beside you."

"Impossible. Forget these nonsensical ideas. You and Claire prepare—in a few days, we're leaving the tower."

Today I barely managed, but as my belly grows, concealment becomes increasingly difficult.

Consequently, I must use the pretext of convalescence to retreat to a secluded private island for childbirth while continuing my investigation. The island's remoteness, combined with Nathan's busy schedule, prevents his visits, and Alexander can't spare the time either.

Five days later, I departed with Griffin, Claire, and essential staff.

However, our dream carpet had barely ascended before being forced to land.

Griffin spoke from outside: "Miss Morgan, it's the Chairman."

Feigning composure, I lifted the dream carpet's curtain to find formally dressed Nathan blocking our path, emanating undeniable authority.

"What is it, Nathan?"

"Where are you going, sister?"

"To my private island for recuperation."

"Why didn't you inform me beforehand? Izzy, are you trying to leave me?"

This conversation is absurd. I knew I couldn't conceal my island retreat from Nathan, so I invited him onto the carpet.

Nathan noticed my slightly protruding belly, his expression shifting: "Izzy, you—"

"I'm pregnant," I admitted frankly, "This island trip is for prenatal—"

Before I could finish, Nathan grabbed my hand, forcefully pulling me before him. I nearly fell against him.

He stared at me with bloodshot eyes, his breathing grazing my face, a tempest raging in his eyes, threatening to destroy all obstacles.

"Tell me, whose child is it?"

## 05

My departure thwarted, Nathan brought me back to the penthouse.

My wrist, where Nathan had grabbed me, now showed redness. I gazed at his retreating figure.

Since our encounter on the dream carpet, Nathan seemed different, somewhat foreign, instilling a hint of fear.

Eventually, he turned to face me, eyes still crimson: "Whose child is it? Alexander's?"

"I don't know."

"I'll kill him now."

Alexander isn't easily eliminated. Fearing Nathan might actually attempt it, I restrained him: "Nathan!"

Nathan seized my chin: "Will you tell me or not? If not, I'll kill every suspicious man."

"Nathan, have you lost your mind?"

"Indeed I have! I shouldn't have indulged you." Nathan declared with near obsession, "Had I known this would happen, I should have made you mine long ago."

I couldn't believe what I heard, utterly shocked.

Nathan actually harbors feelings for me?

Impossible.

"I'm your sister!"

"Not by blood." Nathan smirked dismissively, tightening his grip, forcing my chin higher, compelling me closer, as if surrendering to him. "Even if we were blood relations, I wouldn't care."

Indeed, I'm not Nathan's biological sister. Originally an exceptional dream academy graduate, our father arranged my corporate internship. Before I could begin, father fell gravely ill, internal corporate power struggles erupted, and Nathan and I formed our partnership.

Throughout these years, I've always regarded Nathan as my true brother.

"Nathan, release me. I'll pretend I heard nothing." I addressed him with unprecedented coldness.

"That won't do."

He gazed at me intently; I felt his eyes roaming my face, finally resting on my lips, triggering internal alarms.

Nathan continued: "Izzy, do you know how much I love you? Since gaining awareness, every night I've thought only of you."

With that, Nathan lowered his head and unyieldingly kissed my lips.

One hand gripped my chin, another secured my waist, immobilizing me. I could only remain rigid, teeth clenched tightly.

My ears filled with his breathing and kissing sounds as he fervently pressed against my lips, domineering yet passionate.

"Open your mouth."

I maintained my clenched teeth.

Nathan lost patience, squeezing my cheeks. Pain forced my mouth open, and he immediately invaded, stealing my breath.

I felt dizzy from his kiss, finding an opportunity to bite him.

Instead of releasing me, he bit my lip in return.

Blood mingled between our mouths, indistinguishable in origin.

Finally, when I could barely breathe, he released me. I collapsed powerlessly in his arms as he declared: "Since you won't reveal the father's identity, so be it. This child cannot stay. I can pretend nothing happened."

"No." Beyond Dr. West's warnings about termination risking my health, I've developed attachment to my unborn child. Regardless of paternity, this child carries my bloodline.

Nathan's briefly placated expression darkened dangerously, threatening to consume me whole.

After a long pause, Nathan seemed to compromise with a sigh: "Very well, keep the child. I'll announce the Dream Corporation CEO is convalescing on a private island. I'll send people to care for you—remain here and nurture your pregnancy."

"You're imprisoning me?"

Nathan didn't deny it: "Izzy, you can go nowhere but by my side."

"Our relationship would be scorned by society. What then? Will you imprison me forever?"

"Remember Claire and Griffin? They helped deceive me—I could kill them. And that deceptive doctor too."

Nathan was threatening me.

"Then kill them."

"I will." Nathan summoned someone.

Seeing he genuinely intended harm, I restrained him.

Nathan revealed a victorious smile, unsurprised: "I knew Izzy is softhearted after all."

I felt a sense of powerlessness.

Nathan had finally become what I hoped—a master manipulator of hearts and minds.

## 06

"Miss Morgan!"

Nathan returned Claire to me.

"How are you? He didn't mistreat you?"

Claire shook her head.

Nathan confined me to his private quarters, restricting my movements. Claire attended to me, and Dr. West conducted daily examinations.

Except for meetings and receiving officials, Nathan spent most time with me. While reviewing documents, he would hold me close. Initially I struggled, but finding resistance futile, I acquiesced. Often I dozed off in his embrace, only to be awakened by his kisses.

Sometimes he encouraged me to review documents together. Naturally I understood them—in his youth, I handled many important documents for him.

Now seemingly isolated from the world, understanding external affairs only through those documents.

On one document I noticed Alexander's name—a proposal he submitted.

I wondered if Alexander had detected anything unusual.

Now imprisoned, unable even to see Griffin, I could only hope Alexander would help. Only he could somewhat challenge Nathan.

"Is Izzy thinking about Alexander?" Nathan's voice startled me back to awareness.

Nathan still suspects my child is Alexander's. My denials only reinforce his belief I'm protecting Alexander.

Whispering in my ear like a lover, he declared: "I'll eventually kill Alexander."

"As you wish."

I turned away from his approaching lips, only to have him turn me back. He kissed my earlobe repeatedly.

"Mr. Chairman, Miss Olivia requests an audience." An assistant's voice outside brought momentary joy.

Nathan arranged me on the sofa, burying his face against my neck, his voice slightly muffled, tinted with restraint and impatience: "Denied."

Outside, Olivia's voice carried: "Nathan, I heard you've been under tremendous work pressure lately, so I brought some pastries."

Currently everyone believes I'm convalescing on my private island. I hoped Olivia might detect something amiss. I attempted to call out, but Nathan covered my mouth.

"Nathan?" Olivia persisted outside.

Nathan's furious voice projected outward: "Leave!"

Subsequently, silence fell outside.

Nathan released my lips and began unbuttoning my blouse: "My people guard the doors. Even if someone discovered you, they wouldn't live to tell about it. Izzy, abandon any schemes."

I knew he spoke truth.

Nathan had completely dropped his façade before me, uninhibited.

At night, he shared my bed.

In his prime of virility, I naturally found no peace. Unable to resist, I submitted to his manipulations, repeatedly reminding him of my pregnancy.

My body bore his marks everywhere. When Claire helped me change clothes daily and witnessed this, she wept: "How could the Chairman treat you this way? Miss Morgan has suffered greatly."

I consoled her: "It's alright." If not for my pregnancy, he would have completely possessed me long ago.

"I'll find a way to message Alexander."

"Don't act rashly."

## 07

Surprisingly, Olivia discovered my captivity by Nathan before anyone else.

One day, while Nathan attended a meeting, Olivia arrived.

"Isabella, you're actually here!"

Astonished, I asked: "How did you enter?" Guards surrounded the exterior.

"I have my methods." Olivia observed the marks on my neck and my swollen abdomen. "Quickly, I'll help you escape!"

"What about you afterwards?" Suddenly I noticed Olivia's features somewhat resembled mine, particularly when frowning.

I'd never perceived this resemblance before.

Olivia declared resolutely: "I cannot watch Nathan continue his wrongdoing."

"Claire has disappeared."

"This rare opportunity won't come again. If Isabella doesn't leave now, who knows when another chance will arise. Unless Isabella doesn't wish to leave?"

"Of course I do."

"I've arranged transportation and funds for you."

As I prepared to follow her through the door, I halted.

Olivia turned, puzzled and urgent: "Isabella?"

I released her hand, regarding her coldly: "Did you truly come to rescue me, help me escape? Or to kill me?"

Olivia's expression grew unnatural: "What is Isabella saying?"

I laughed cynically: "Don't forget, I'm Isabella Morgan, controller of the world's largest dream corporation. While you were studying basic dream techniques in university, I was outmaneuvering executives. Our relationship is cordial at best, and as Nathan's fiancée who loves him deeply, why would you help me without reservation? Why exert such effort to rescue me?"

Her inconsistencies were numerous.

Exposed, Olivia's expression contorted. She recaptured my arm, attempting to force me outside. Once beyond the tower, I could conveniently "die accidentally."

I countered and restrained her. Having studied combat techniques with Griffin, though unprepared for battle, I could subdue an ordinary woman like Olivia. Had my pregnancy not slowed my movements, Olivia wouldn't have grabbed me initially.

"When did you discover?" I questioned her curiously. Olivia showed no surprise at seeing my neck marks and protruding belly.

"Naturally long ago!" Olivia abandoned her gentle demeanor, somewhat hysterical. "You commit such morally reprehensible acts and conceived a child!"

"Who claims the child is Nathan's?" I realized her misunderstanding. "Nathan and I never transgressed sibling boundaries."

Even now, I defended Nathan's reputation.

Olivia scoffed: "Stop pretending. Several months ago at the gala, I personally witnessed you two intimately entwined in that abandoned laboratory—disgusting!"

The man from that night was... Nathan?

Judging by Olivia's conviction, I froze in shock.

My child is Nathan's?

My evidently shocked expression prompted Olivia's realization: "You didn't know the child is Nathan's? Neither did Nathan?"

"That's none of your concern."

Outside came hurried footsteps—Nathan arriving with others. His expression was icy, though visibly relieved upon seeing me.

"Izzy, are you alright? Olivia, how dare you!"

I released Olivia.

Olivia immediately approached Nathan: "Nathan, she carries Alexander's child! Why keep her by your side?"

Olivia proved rather intelligent.

Nathan seemed disinterested: "Bring Olivia back and monitor her closely. Without my authorization, no one sees her."

I witnessed murderous intent in his eyes.

Soon, news of Olivia's accidental death would likely circulate.

After Olivia's removal and others' departure, only Nathan and I remained.

I still struggled to believe that night's encounter was with Nathan.

No wonder my executive investigation proved fruitless.

Judging by Nathan's earlier reactions, he seemed unaware, though subsequent events remain unclear.

"Izzy even hoped Alexander would rescue you, sending Claire to inform him." Nathan's voice returned me to reality.

That explained Claire's absence. I sensed impending tragedy: "Where is Claire?"

Nathan stated dispassionately: "I killed her."

Suddenly my head buzzed, vision darkening.

Claire served me over a decade, having cared for him in his childhood too. How could he so casually eliminate Claire? He knew I considered her like a sister.

Nathan steadied me.

"Not just her. Today's guards will die too." He carried me toward the bedroom, casually informing me, "If Izzy escapes or suffers mishap, more will die."

"Madman!" Now, I felt complete disappointment and hatred toward Nathan.

I resolved never to reveal the child's paternity to him.

He doesn't deserve to know.

Nathan ignored me, placing me on the bed, leaning down to kiss my tears.

His eyes reflected obsession and madness: "You belong only to me. What if Alexander knows? For others' lives, Izzy must remain by my side."

## 08

Olivia died accidentally. As expected.

Olivia's father served on the Dream Council as Resource Director and Senior Advisor—Alexander's primary council adversary.

Though officially attributed to a dream accident, the suddenness seemed suspicious. Olivia's family likely wouldn't acquiesce.

Though imprisoned without external news access, I observed Nathan's increased activity, drawing certain conclusions.

Gazing at the gloomy horizon through the window, I questioned: "Griffin, might a coup occur?"

Perhaps to prevent another Olivia situation, Nathan assigned Griffin to me.

"Miss Morgan, mind the chill."

Griffin offered a wrap, which I took and donned myself, telling him: "Keep your distance to avoid Nathan's notice."

Nathan's possessiveness was extreme, resenting any male proximity to me. Whenever Griffin approached me, Nathan would rage. Despite my pregnancy preventing intimacy, he found other ways to torment me.

Sometimes I detected murderous intent in his gaze toward Griffin.

Claire was gone; I couldn't let Griffin suffer too.

"I'll fight our way out."

I shook my head: "Escape is impossible; don't sacrifice needlessly."

Nathan doubled the guards while assigning Griffin to me. Despite Griffin's martial prowess, breaking through with me was impossible.

"But rest assured," I stroked my belly, "Just as I helped him ascend to power and secure the Council Chairman position, I can bring him down."

At that moment, I failed to notice the complexity in Griffin's eyes as I spoke.

**

One day, I discovered a note beneath the medicine bowl Dr. West delivered.

"Izzy, avoiding your medicine again?"

Seeing Nathan approach, I hastily tucked the note into my sleeve.

"Good medicine tastes bitter. Izzy's constitution is delicate; how will you deliver without proper care?"

Fearing he might discover the note, I swiftly drained the medicine to encourage his departure.

After setting down the bowl, Nathan lifted my chin and delivered a dream candy through a kiss.

His breath and the candy's sweetness dispelled the lingering bitterness.

Only after he'd kissed me until my lips burned did he release me.

Caressing my lip with his thumb, he said: "Representatives from the Southern Dream Alliance are visiting for several days, requiring evening banquets. I can't leave these obligations. Rest well. After this period, I'll return to you."

I turned away, avoiding the suppressed desire in his eyes.

After Nathan left, I opened the note reading: Today, 18:30, East entrance.

Alexander's handwriting.

He harbors some feelings for me, or perhaps serves his ambition.

Regardless, our interests temporarily align.

I showed Griffin the note.

"Tonight Nathan hosts visiting delegates. Alexander's people will provide external support—our opportunity to escape. Griffin, prepare accordingly." I maintain external contacts; after using Alexander's influence to escape, I'll manage.

The sun began setting, darkness gradually enveloping.

Finally, 18:30 arrived.

I heard muffled whistling outside—our prearranged signal with Alexander.

His people had arrived.

"Griffin, let's go." My enlarged belly increasingly hindered movement.

Before reaching the door, cold light flashed with the sound of a drawn blade—a dream dagger at my throat.

Looking at the blade-holder, I momentarily couldn't comprehend: "Griffin?"

"Miss Morgan, I cannot let you leave."

"You've sided with Nathan?"

"Miss Morgan, I serve the former Chairman."

"Former Chairman?" The former Chairman died over a decade ago.

"If Miss Morgan escapes, you'll oppose the Chairman, undermining his authority. Moreover, the child in your womb would become leverage against him. Therefore, I cannot permit your departure."

"How do you know the child is Nathan's?" I never mentioned this to anyone.

After brief consideration, comprehension dawned, utterly shocking me: "So, you always knew?"

Griffin avoided my gaze: "I couldn't allow Miss Morgan and the Chairman together. You're siblings—morally reprehensible. Public knowledge would destabilize the Chairman's position."

"So Nathan's ignorance about that night involved you? You didn't anticipate my pregnancy, did you?"

Griffin remained silent. I'd guessed correctly.

"Such loyalty." I mocked, commanding, "Step aside."

Griffin remained immovable.

"If I insist on leaving, what will you do? Kill me?" I pressed my neck closer to the blade, the cold sensation causing slight pain.

Griffin lowered the dagger, kneeling before me: "If Miss Morgan wishes to leave, kill me first."

I laughed derisively: "You think I wouldn't dare?"

Griffin offered me the dream dagger, closing his eyes.

I gripped the dagger and plunged it into his chest.

## 09

I ultimately failed to escape.

When Griffin betrayed me, I knew escape was impossible. Without him, I couldn't breach the many guards outside to rendezvous with Alexander's people.

I summoned security personnel.

They entered, startled at Griffin's collapsed form.

I discarded the bloodied dream dagger, covering my nose against the metallic scent: "Remove him. Clean the blood."

An hour later, Nathan returned.

Noticing his slightly darkened expression, he appeared displeased.

"Griffin is critically wounded." He observed me.

I responded indifferently: "Why should his life or death concern me?"

Nathan seemed to detect something, embracing me from behind, his lips against my nape, whispering: "Izzy, avoid schemes. You cannot escape; you'll remain beside me forever."

The gentlest tone delivering the sternest warning.

I changed topics: "What happened at tonight's banquet?"

"Izzy still cares about me." Nathan smiled slightly. "Those delegates lack tact, mentioning how you almost interned with them, claiming with your talent and beauty, you'd have become their Chief Dream Architect. As if they're worthy? You should be my partner."

His tone grew icy toward the end, his eyes murderous.

I allowed his madness to unfold.

"By the way Izzy, don't hope for Alexander's help—he won't aid your escape."

My heart tightened as he continued: "Tonight he agreed to join forces against Blackwood."

Blackwood is Olivia's deceased father.

I knew Nathan spoke truth.

Blackwood, Alexander's primary political adversary, commanded significant council respect despite his advanced age. Many traditionalists supported him, and as Resource Director, he controlled crucial dream resource allocation—powerful enough to challenge Alexander.

I had deliberately positioned Blackwood in the council to check Alexander.

Alexander likely dreamed of eliminating Blackwood. Without Blackwood, his greatest council obstacle would vanish.

Previously, in Alexander's position, I'd have allied with Nathan too.

However, he underestimated Nathan. Even eliminating Blackwood wouldn't guarantee future success.

He gambled with tigers.

Afterwards, I received no further messages from Alexander.

## 10

"Miss Morgan should ease her mind to avoid accumulating ailments." Dr. West examined my pulse.

Recently I've grown increasingly lethargic with deteriorating spirits, spending most days in slumber.

Nathan imprisoned me, Alexander abandoned me, Claire died, Griffin betrayed me.

I asked Dr. West: "How can one ease their mind?"

Unable to answer, he eventually advised: "Miss Morgan must cherish her health, and the child within."

I nodded: "Naturally."

Since deciding to eliminate Blackwood, Nathan grew increasingly busy, often working late in his office.

Returning when I typically slept, he'd frequently wake me.

"Izzy, I just met with Alexander."

I knew this was deliberate. Too tired to open my eyes, I pushed away his head from my neck, perfunctorily acknowledging with a sound, unwilling for him to disturb my sleep.

Nathan's hand slipped beneath my nightgown: "See, Izzy, Alexander doesn't truly care about you. Only I genuinely love you."

My drowsiness vanished completely as I opened my eyes.

Yet you killed Claire.

**

While Nathan and Alexander confronted Blackwood, the Southern Dream Alliance, which recently sent delegates, suddenly initiated hostilities, amassing forces at the border.

Nathan reviewed intelligence reports, furious: "That old fox actually conspired with the Southern Dream Alliance."

I reclined silently in my lounge chair, my child now eight months along.

Blackwood has staked everything.

"Mr. Chairman." Shortly thereafter, someone called Nathan outside.

Returning, Nathan's countenance emanated lethal intent.

Sensing something unusual, I inquired: "What happened?"

"That old fox colluded with border guards, initiating a coup."

Nathan donned dream armor, seized dream weapons, approached to kiss my forehead. His armor felt hard, somewhat painful.

"Izzy, I'll assign guards to the penthouse. Wait here for my return."

After Nathan's departure, I sat by the window, watching daylight fade to darkness.

By nightfall, the rebellion persisted, Nathan hadn't returned.

Fighting sleep, I faintly heard dream explosions, feeling ominous premonitions.

Rebels had penetrated the tower.

Explosions multiplied, growing clearer—rebels approached, seemingly just downstairs. I heard dream magic colliding with flesh and screams.

Outside, shadows moved; someone could breach the door any moment.

Without defensive weapons, I grabbed a crystal sphere and positioned myself beside the door.

Someone prepared to enter. Heart racing, I raised the sphere as the door opened.

"Miss Morgan, it's me." I nearly struck downward: "Dr. West? Why you?"

Dr. West appeared considerably disheveled, clearly having experienced significant shock: "Amidst the chaos outside, I've come to escort Miss Morgan away. Please forgive me." Dr. West grabbed my hand.

"Wait." I instructed, "Are there corpses outside? Bring one in."

**

Never had the penthouse experienced such chaos as that night.

I ignited dream flames, consuming Nathan's private quarters—my prison for nearly six months—and "Isabella Morgan" died in those flames.

Past affairs reduced to ashes.

## The Dream Empress Epilogue

Six months have passed since that fire. I delivered a son four months ago and now reside in a tranquil northern town. Distant from political centers, the residents are genuine and welcoming toward this stranger.

Conflict with the Southern Dream Alliance resolved two months ago with Dream Council's decisive victory. Current stability prevails.

My child, nicknamed Little Light, blinks large eyes adorably.

I often cradle Little Light in the courtyard, listening to neighbors gossip.

These neighbors enthusiastically discuss dream world scandals and political figures' private lives. Though largely inaccurate, their stories entertain.

I long to tell them that rumors about the Dream Deputy Director's affair with his sister are false—it's actually with his brother's wife. The Dream Academy Headmaster doesn't have multiple lovers or nightly revels—his wife's dream magic far exceeds his own.

"Have you heard? Miss Morgan has died?"

My hand patting Little Light momentarily paused.

The neighbors continued: "Heard she died in a fire."

"Such a pity. I heard Miss Morgan was talented with exceptional dream proficiency."

"I also heard Miss Morgan was extraordinarily beautiful, enchanting high officials and noble men."

"These two years have been eventful—first Miss Olivia, now Miss Morgan?"

"Hush—that Olivia belonged to the traitor's family, hardly deserving sympathy."

...

"Mrs. Brook, your brother has arrived!"

Hearing this, I refocused, watching Dr. West approach.

Since arriving in this small town, Dr. West and I pretend to be siblings. Dr. West's surname is Brook, so I adopted it too. Neighbors call me Mrs. Brook, believing I'm a widow, and kindly care for me.

Dr. West established a dream clinic in town, saving lives and earning respect.

Dr. West took Little Light from my arms.

"Little Light, say Uncle."

Dr. West smiled: "Little Light can't speak yet."

I replied: "It doesn't matter. He'll hear it first, then naturally learn."

Returning indoors, I closed the door.

Dr. West's smile faded as he lowered his voice: "Did Miss Morgan hear the news outside?"

I knew he meant my reported "death."

"I heard."

Events from half a year ago now seem a lifetime past.

Suddenly a knock sounded. Expecting a neighbor, I opened the door to find an unexpected visitor.

I stood speechless with shock.

"Miss Morgan! You're truly alive!"

"Cl...Claire? You didn't die?"

Claire, teary-eyed, explained: "No, the Chairman imprisoned me. Miss Morgan, you're still alive, thank goodness."

"How did you find this place?"

"The Chairman's people brought me. Initially, I didn't know I was coming to see you."

My heart tightened.

I knew that corpse couldn't fool Nathan—I just hadn't expected him to find me so quickly.

"Miss Morgan, should we relocate?" Dr. West asked gravely.

I shook my head.

If Nathan knows I'm alive, he'll likely find me wherever I hide.

Having sent Claire rather than capturing me, perhaps he's come to understand.

May he release his obsession. May he become a responsible leader.

## Griffin's Perspective

The former Chairman gave me one final task before death—eliminate Miss Morgan.

She wasn't the former Chairman's blood descendant, and he feared her ambition might eventually change the dream world's rulership.

As the former Chairman's loyal agent, I naturally accepted this mission.

The former Chairman died less than thirty minutes after our meeting. Funeral bells echoed throughout Ethereal Heights.

Amid national mourning, I sought my target with dream weapons, but encountered Dream Council officials attempting to assassinate the young Chairman.

That lady shielded the thirteen-year-old Chairman with her fragile body. The assassin raised his dream staff.

I intervened, killing all assassins.

"Thank you for saving us." Her face was pale, blood-stained, yet her eyes shone brilliantly.

Had I arrived moments later, the assassin's magic would have pierced her body, claiming her life. Even now, she merely lived borrowed moments.

"May I know your name and position, sir?"

"Just a tower security guard." A dying person needs not know my true identity.

As I prepared to strike her, she pulled the startled young Chairman up, telling me: "This is the Chairman's son, soon to be the new Chairman. Would you follow me henceforth? If my brother and I survive, we'll certainly reward you generously."

Perhaps that moment's hope in her eyes was too powerful, viewing me as a savior. I, a killer of countless, softened.

Suddenly, I couldn't strike.

She willingly risked her life for the young Chairman—surely she wouldn't betray the dream world.

"I would." I concealed my weapon.

Should she truly harbor ill intentions, I could always kill her later.

Subsequently, I became Miss Morgan's guardian.

I dutifully protected her, watching her navigate political storms to elevate the young Chairman, gradually eliminating disloyal council forces, witnessing her... use feminine charms to recruit Alexander Reed.

Though inappropriate, I often felt the Chairman owed Miss Morgan tremendously.

I once observed Miss Morgan privately with Alexander. She nestled in his embrace, hair cascading, clothes partially undone, skin like snow, utterly captivating.

Suddenly I understood Alexander—few men could resist Miss Morgan's allure.

After witnessing this once, Miss Morgan's enchanting image frequently invaded my thoughts.

I knew this was improper.

Whenever my mind wandered, I suppressed it through intensive training, nearly causing dream energy disruption multiple times.

She was the exalted, world-influencing Dream Empress—beyond my aspirations. I could only protect her from beside.

I believed this would continue indefinitely, until an unexpected development occurred.

At the gala, Miss Morgan went to clear her mind after drinking. Neither Claire nor I accompanied her. Consequently, Miss Morgan disappeared.

Searching discreetly, I found Miss Morgan in an abandoned laboratory, alongside the Chairman.

Both disheveled, the experimental table vibrating audibly.

My mind momentarily blanked.

Hearing the Chairman call "Izzy," I realized the Chairman harbored such feelings for Miss Morgan, exploiting her intoxication.

In that moment, I contemplated killing the Chairman.

Such morally reprehensible acts must remain undiscovered.

Upon entering, Miss Morgan lay unconscious, covered in intimate marks. I removed the Chairman, administered amnesia-inducing drugs, erasing the Chairman's memory.

Before giving Miss Morgan similar treatment, Claire arrived. Fortunately, Miss Morgan remained unaware of her partner's identity.

I assumed this matter would remain buried within me, but two months later, returning from assignment for the Chairman, Miss Morgan revealed her pregnancy from that gala night.

Society would condemn this.

Miss Morgan intended to keep the child. Unable to dissuade her, I maintained the secret.

If I remained silent, this could remain concealed indefinitely—beneficial for everyone.

Unexpectedly, the Chairman discovered Miss Morgan's pregnancy and imprisoned her. Considering Miss Morgan's suffering, I would exchange my life for her freedom, but guards surrounded us extensively. Even fighting to my death couldn't secure her escape.

Claire's death completely disillusioned Miss Morgan regarding the Chairman.

Miss Morgan declared she could both elevate and depose Nathan.

I knew she could accomplish this.

Therefore, when she contacted Alexander and prepared to flee, I drew my blade to stop her.

Allied with Alexander, she would inevitably incite a coup.

Miss Morgan insisted on leaving—what could I do? Unable to harm her in the slightest, I could only kneel before her, offering my dream dagger, letting her pass over my corpse.

Miss Morgan ultimately softened, deflecting the blade an inch, sparing my life while bringing me to death's threshold.

I'd rather die by Miss Morgan's hand than repeatedly face her cold, disappointed gaze.

When Blackwood initiated the coup that night, seeing flames engulf Miss Morgan's quarters, I felt frozen, my blood nearly congealing. I immediately rushed inside.

**

My heart must serve the former Chairman, but my life belongs to Miss Morgan.

Once dead, duty no longer binds me.

If spirits persist after death, I'd forgo reincarnation, wandering eternally, forever guarding her.

Throughout all lifetimes.

## Alexander's Perspective

I first encountered Isabella at the Dream Academy's award ceremony.

The annual dream research awards had just been announced, with the Chairman and Miss Morgan hosting award-winning scholars.

My dream algorithm swept six major awards, naturally making me the ceremony's focus. Yet all radiance diminished when Isabella appeared.

Like others, I gazed at Isabella, nearly forgetting to breathe.

Later, Isabella privately met me, inviting me to become her ally and advisor.

I'd analyzed the situation thoroughly. The Dream Council then was controlled by the Vice-Chairman, making alliance with the siblings strategically unwise.

Isabella promised that after successfully eliminating opposition, I'd become the new Vice-Chairman.

She understood my ambition.

I feigned immunity to her charm, though already utterly captivated, completely defenseless against her allure.

Whether ambition prevailed or her enchantment, I agreed.

That year, I was a newly recognized dream researcher, merely twenty-six. Isabella was the obscure Miss Morgan, twenty-four. We became allies.

In subsequent years, we supported each other through turbulent undercurrents.

Those days were perilous, each week bringing assassination attempts.

Yet those difficult days marked my closest time with Isabella.

Isabella frequently worried for my safety.

Once, I genuinely sustained injury.

Isabella rushed overnight to visit, maintaining vigil beside my bed, even shedding a tear upon seeing my wound. Whether genuine emotion or strategic appeasement remains unknown, but I choose to believe it was sincere.

That night, embracing Isabella, that tear ignited fervent emotions within me—I'd face any peril for her.

Together we endured the most challenging period.

She became the immensely powerful Dream Empress, I the second-highest ranked Vice-Chairman.

Finally achieving success, our hearts grew distant, mutually cautious.

We maintained our affectionate facade while probing and guarding against each other.

Throughout these years, she never selected a partner, while I remained single. Ultimately, she was Morgan Corporation's CEO, I the Dream Council Vice-Chairman—our union was impossible.

Half-jokingly, I invited Isabella to abandon her CEO position and become my partner. Isabella reciprocated by inviting me to jointly retire.

I recognized her attempt to diminish my power, clearing obstacles for the Chairman.

At her invitation, my heart actually stirred—genuinely contemplating abandoning everything to escape with her, living ordinarily, supporting her with my dream research.

Perhaps had Isabella persisted a few more times, approached me more intimately, or displayed some vulnerability, I might have agreed in emotional confusion.

But she didn't.

We understood each other too well.

**

My life's greatest mistake was abandoning the imprisoned Isabella, agreeing to ally with the Chairman against Blackwood.

I'd long recognized the Chairman's feelings for Isabella, evidenced by his murderous glances toward me.

In truth, I hadn't truly abandoned rescuing Isabella.

That night, during private discussions with the Chairman, I'd already dispatched people to rescue Isabella—temporarily appeasing the Chairman. Once Isabella was free, even if the Chairman suspected, he'd find no one.

Unexpectedly, that night my people failed to free Isabella.

Subsequently, the penthouse guards increased, forcing me to strategically ally with the Chairman temporarily.

After eliminating Blackwood, with none in the council to check me, I'd have sufficient leverage to compel the Chairman to release Isabella—unless he willingly relinquished his position.

Who could have anticipated Blackwood's desperate coup?

I still remember that night's fire.

Perhaps this punishes my years of power-hungry ambition, forever losing my beloved, condemned to solitary old age.

If only I'd agreed to abandon everything and retire with Isabella.

But what use is regret now?

My Isabella will never return.

## Nathan's Perspective

I anticipated Blackwood might have contingencies.

After a night's fierce battle, I executed Blackwood before those rebels.

Rebel leaders, realizing defeat was imminent, appeared ashen.

"Take these individuals away, keep them under strict surveillance."

Those betraying me would face no pleasant fate—I'd ensure lifelong regret.

Distant flames raged skyward.

"Mr. Chairman!" Guards rushed over, "Your private quarters unexpectedly caught fire. Security is extinguishing it, please remain assured."

Private quarters...

Izzy!

I discarded my dream weapons, rushing toward the flames.

Alexander accompanied me, knowing Izzy was there.

The fire appeared more ferocious than initially observed, with security personnel battling it.

I grabbed one, demanding: "How did the fire start?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Where is she?" I inquired with faint hope.

"I... I don't know, likely still inside."

My mind blanked with a buzzing sound, leaving only the urge to rush inside.

"Mr. Chairman, it's too dangerous!" Security restrained me.

"Move aside!"

"The Chairman's safety is paramount!"

While security obstructed me, Griffin stumbled into view, muttering "Miss Morgan."

"Is Miss Morgan still inside?" he asked me.

"Yes."

Griffin glanced at me, eyes filled with reproach: "Do you know she carries your child? Is this how you treat her? You can't even guarantee her safety!"

"What?"

Griffin had already plunged into the inferno.

Unable to think further, I merely wanted to save Izzy.

I warned those restraining me: "Move aside, or I'll kill you."

"Even if you kill me, sir, I dare not release you!"

"Mr. Chairman!"

"My death matters little, I beg the Chairman to reconsider!"

"Mr. Chairman! The Southern Dream Alliance masses troops at the border, watching eagerly. For the dream world's safety, the Chairman cannot risk himself. I volunteer to enter!" With that, he rushed into the fire.

I laughed coldly: "You think I care?"

Without Izzy, what dream world matters? What citizen welfare concerns me?

They rushed into the fire one after another, displaying ultimate loyalty through their deaths.

After the seventh person entered the flames, I relented.

At that moment, I truly envied Griffin.

As Dream Council Chairman, I lacked even the freedom to accompany Izzy.

Those entering never returned. The fire extinguished only by dawn, leaving the entire penthouse a blackened skeleton of devastation.

I sat amidst ruins overnight, until investigators arrived.

Gathering courage, I asked: "The situation?"

"Mr. Chairman, we found nine bodies."

Security personnel plus Griffin totaled eight people.

So one must be Izzy.

My vision darkened.

My Isabella was gone.

"Mr. Chairman, all nine bodies are male."

My hand trembled: "Certain?"

"All definitely male."

I exhaled in relief.

Izzy wasn't there. Izzy surely lives.

**

I concealed from Alexander that Izzy survived, honored Griffin with a grand funeral, then visited Claire.

I knew Izzy regarded Claire as a sister. How could I kill someone Izzy valued? I merely used Claire to intimidate Izzy.

Claire confessed everything.

Apparently Izzy conceived on that gala night, unaware of the father's identity.

My memories of that gala night completely blank—highly suspicious. Combined with Griffin's words before entering the fire, after investigation, I finally assembled the truth.

The child I jealously resented was actually mine.

Izzy carried my flesh and blood.

Joy and sorrow intermingled.

I caused Izzy such suffering—she must despise me thoroughly.

Nevertheless, Izzy's survival suffices.