I Crashed His Meeting to Give Him a Son

In the dimly lit hotel room, Maeve Riley started to come around. As her eyes adjusted, she saw a man in his fifties with a greasy stomach reaching towards her thigh while holding a phone, seemingly recording her.

"Hey there, sweetheart, awake?"

"Who are you?" Maeve fought back the nausea and growled.

The old man smirked as if he were charming. "Who I am doesn't matter. You just need to know your dad owes me a bunch of money. You make me happy tonight, and his debt disappears."

Maeve let out a cold laugh and quickly kicked him off her, sending him sprawling on the floor.

"You want a favor? Go ask my dad!"

These loan sharks were relentless. Maeve had been ambushed on her way to work after leaving class.

The man gasped from the impact, blood trickling from his nose. Hastily, he wiped his face and reached for a spray can, filling the room with mist. "Ungrateful brat! You’ll be begging me to help you when this stuff kicks in!"

"Let me guess, old man. Judging by your sleazy look, this is some kind of aphrodisiac?" Maeve scoffed, taking a deep breath. "Cheap stuff. You really cut corners on a night out."

He hadn't anticipated her defiance. "Doesn't matter. You'll be begging me soon enough!"

"Ugly and delusional. What a combo," Maeve said dryly, pulling out a small pillbox from her pocket. She twisted it to the blue section, popping a pill into her mouth. "Thanks for volunteering as my test subject. Enjoy your gift."

With a flick of her wrist, she dusted his face with powder.

"What did you just throw at me?!"

Maeve was already heading for the door. "Something that'll drive you crazy if you don't find a woman in thirty minutes. Otherwise, you’ll go mad. Bye!"

Feeling the effect on his body, the man lunged at her, but it was too late.

With a slam, Maeve locked him in the bedroom. As he pounded on the door in fury, she dusted her hands and turned to leave, only to be stopped by a sharp slap across her cheek.

The blow made her head spin, and Maeve took a moment to gather herself.

She tasted blood on her lip and looked up to see four well-trained bodyguards standing in the suite's living room. Leading them was her college nemesis—Aliza George.

Aliza flexed her hand, a smirk on her vibrant face. Maeve had caught the eye of Khai Howell, whom Aliza desired, and she was set on ruining her rival.

"Maeve Riley, you're a real piece of work! Throw yourself at any wealthy guy. Even this Wylder Lewis. Isn't one enough?"

Maeve shot Aliza a sardonic smile. "Had a chance to test him out yourself?"

"You!" Aliza raised her hand, her anger flaring, aiming to strike Maeve again. But before she could, Maeve retaliated with a loud slap of her own.

"How dare you hit me!"

"Oops, must have slipped..." Maeve said, casually stretching her arm.

Aliza fumed, ready to retort when, in a flash—

Maeve gathered all her strength for a slap that sent Aliza reeling onto the floor.

After elegantly stretching, Maeve retrieved a wet wipe from her bag, cleaning her hand before tossing it at Aliza.

"That's how you hit back, understand?"

"Maeve Riley!"

"Relax. Even a dog knows when to heel."

Aliza's eyes were furious, her lips twisted in anger. She looked ready to explode.

She barked orders at the four men in the room.

"What are you waiting for? Do something!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The men, stunned by Maeve's fierceness, snapped into action. Two helped Aliza up while the others opened the balcony door, dragging in a man in only his underwear.

Seeing him, Maeve's heart sank further.

"Maeve, help me, Maeve!" Her father, bleeding and pitiful, begged at her feet, pinned down, with a knife-wielding thug hovering menacingly.

"Three seconds to put on this outfit and please Wylder Lewis. I'll spare your dad. Otherwise, he loses a finger every minute."

A revealing black lace dress was tossed at Maeve’s face.

She unfolded it deliberately. "Fine, I'll wear it."

Aliza hadn’t expected Maeve to agree so quickly. Her father brightened. "Maeve, you're such a good daughter. I promise—"

Mid-sentence, Maeve cut him off coldly. "But hurry up. Don’t just cut his fingers—finish him off!"

Her father was stunned into silence.

Aliza, too, was caught off guard. She had wanted to humiliate Maeve out of jealousy over Khai Howell but hadn’t expected Maeve to be so spiteful that she’d wish her own father dead.

"Maeve, please, I’m sorry. I’ll never gamble again. Just do this one thing for Wylder Lewis, please." Her father pleaded from the floor.

"I beg of you, have you ever done anything besides drink, gamble, and ruin us? You even stole my money to cover your debts. You've wasted 48 years. It’s time to dig your own grave!"

Every interaction with her father churned Maeve’s stomach. He was less a man and more a parasite dragging their family into chaos, her mother driven to despair by his actions.

She despised him more than anyone.

Yet, like a toxic vine, he continued to poison her life.