?Chapter 1599:


    Dn examined the in strip resting in her palm: six smooth, white oval pills without a single marking. Nothing hinted they were anything unusual.


    “Where did you get these? Are you sure they’re safe?” Dn asked, his brows knitting together.


    “They’re safe. They won’t hurt you, I promise.” Christina offered no exnation for their origin.


    Dn chose not to press her. He simply tucked the tablets into his pocket and drew her into his embrace, a faint, tender smile touching his lips.


    “You’re afraid someone might try to drug me, aren’t you?” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss against her forehead.


    Contentment warmed his features.


    It was in to see just how deeply Christina cared for him.


    “I’m worried someone might try to trap you,” Christina said in a low, steady voice. “These tablets can cancel out certain drugs—keep them close, just in case.”


    Mistakes happened to everyone. If Dn ever found himself in a dangerous situation, at least he’d have something to defend himself with—a way to fight back when things turned dire.


    “Alright.” Dn pulled her against his chest, breathing in that faint, addictive scent that always lingered on her skin.


    By now, he was almost certain—Christina was King. Only the creator of those pills would carry them: nk, unmarked, and potent.


    He didn’t me her for hiding the truth. If anything, pride swelled inside him. He would wait—patiently, silently—until the day she chose to reveal who she really was.


    At a small café, Vickie sat tucked into a corner, her face concealed beneath oversized sunsses and a ck mask pulled so tightly over her features that she was nearly unrecognizable.


    She located the private room mentioned in the anonymous message and rapped lightly on the door.


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    It opened immediately, revealing a dangerously handsome man with piercing blue eyes that seemed to cut straight through her. One nce was enough to tell he was mixed-race.


    A teasing menace clung to him—a swaggerced with quiet violence, like someone ustomed to power and unafraid to wield it. Despite herself, Vickie froze, her breath catching as she took him in.


    “Come in, Miss Cullen,” Terrence said with azy, knowing grin. He turned and sauntered back to his seat.


    Vickie pushed aside her momentary weakness and stepped inside, her movements brisk, her tone clipped.


    Thankfully, the mask hid most of her face—he wouldn’t see the flush of embarrassment threatening to betray her.


    “Who are you?” she asked coldly. “And what exactly do you want?”


    Terrence was the one behind those anonymous messages. She had confirmed her pregnancy in secret only yesterday—and yet this man already knew.


    A wave of unease rippled through her. Beneath it, something darker stirred: a flicker of lethal resolve.


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