Guron sat up abruptly, the sheets sliding down his broad chest as he stared at his wife. The terror radiating from Himelda was palpable, instantly cooling the lingering heat of their passion into something dark. Her eyes were completely bloodshot, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps that made her entire frame shiver under the dim lights of the suite.

"What the hell is with that reaction, Himelda?" Guron asked, his voice dropping into a harsh, demanding register. He gripped her shoulder, feeling the tight, rigid knots of tension locking up her muscles. "You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. It is just the name of a slum practitioner."

Himelda slapped his hand off her shoulder, pulling her knees up tightly against her chest as she stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Is it Duro Nenth from the 3rd Street market in the deep slums, Guron?!" Himelda demanded, her voice rising into a shriek that echoed off the walls. "Tell me the truth right now! Is that the specific old man she belongs to?!"

Guron’s brow furrowed, his expression hardening into a line of impatience. "Yes, Himelda. That is his exact address on the lower sector grid. Is there a problem with his name? The old man is practically crippled and poses absolutely no threat to our family name."

"There is a very big problem, Guron! A catastrophic problem!" Himelda screamed back, her fingers clawing into her hair as she rocked herself back and forth on the mattress. All the sophisticated elegance of the businesswoman had completely evaporated, leaving behind a manic, primitive panic. "Our son is in mortal danger right now! Dorrent is sitting in that mansion with a ticking time bomb, and you practically handed her the keys to his bedroom!"

Guron let out a loud, irritated huff, crossing his massive arms over his chest as he evaluated her sudden hysteria. "I don’t understand you at all right now, woman. You are completely losing your mind over a penniless, fragile little herbalist who can barely lift a heavy bucket. Explain yourself clearly."

"We have invited absolute destruction right to our front door, Guron!" Himelda sobbed out, her voice cracking with an intense, agonizing dread. She lunged forward, her hands grabbing the lapels of his discarded shirt, shaking it as she pleaded with him. "You need to pull out your phone and call the estate handlers immediately! Have your security force throw that wretched girl out of my house before it is too late! Don’t let her spend another single night next to our son’s body!"

"I cannot do that, Himelda!" Guron countered, his deep voice booming through the room with a terrifying authority that made her flinch. He grabbed both of her wrists, pinning them down onto the bed to force her to stop moving. "I will not disrupt my son’s medical treatment unless you give me a solid, logical reason. The little herbalist doesn’t look harmful at all. She is quiet, submissive, and completely delicate."

"That is exactly how they all look, Guron! They all look innocent!" Himelda shrieked, tears of terror finally spilling down her pale cheeks. "The women from that specific bloodline always look innocent, and they are always exceptionally, dangerously beautiful! It is their primary weapon! I know our son, Guron. I know his primitive psychology. Dorrent is already completely infatuated by her presence, isn’t he? I can hear it in the way you described his reaction! He is already caught in her web, and he doesn’t even know it!"

Guron released her wrists, his eyes narrowing into analytical slits as her words began to trigger his own internal alarms. "What exactly do you mean by that, Himelda? An S-tier Alpha developing a temporary infatuation with a beautiful, exotic lady is completely normal and expected. It is basic biology. And how the hell do you even know about Jannah’s lineage? You haven’t stepped foot in the lower sectors in over twenty years."

Himelda wiped her face with a trembling hand, her gaze dropping to the dark floorboards as a deep, suffocating grief washed over her features. She swallowed hard, her voice dropping into a ghostly, low whisper that carried the weight of an ancient family secret.

"Do you remember my younger brother, Dean, Guron?" Himelda asked quietly, her eyes lifting to lock onto his face with an intense, haunting gravity. "Do you remember how he suddenly died twenty-one years ago back in the central sector?"

Guron’s expression softened slightly, a low, solemn nod escaping him. "Of course I remember Dean, Himelda. The young man got into a tragic, high-speed car accident on the rainy sector bridge. It was a devastating loss for your family, and I wouldn’t want to dig up those old memories tonight. May his young soul rest in eternal peace, but what does his death have to do with a slum herbalist?"

"It had absolutely everything to do with her, Guron," Himelda delivered flatly, her voice turning as cold as ice. "Dean did not die from a normal car failure. His death was caused entirely because of Jannah’s biological mother, a woman named Frost."

Guron tilted his head, his interest completely peaked as the dark pieces of history began to shift. "How? Why would a woman from the bogs cause your brother’s execution?"

"Because Frost used her otherworldly, hypnotic beauty to completely capture Dean’s heart," Himelda explained, her jaw clenching as the bitter memory burned her throat. "Dean was really, helplessly infatuated by her every single day. He abandoned his duties, ignored our father’s warnings, and spent all his time chasing her through the lower districts. And that is exactly how he endangered his own life."

"In which way, Himelda?" Guron pressed immediately, leaning closer as his sharp mind tried to find the pattern. "I still don’t get your point. A man chasing a beautiful woman doesn’t automatically cause a fatal bridge accident."

"It does when that specific woman is cursed, Guron!" Himelda hissed, her eyes flashing with a sudden venom.

"What curse could a common slum girl possibly carry?" Guron scoffed, shaking his head.

"The curse of absolute, lethal attraction!" Himelda revealed, her voice dropping into a dark, intense register. "Almost every single powerful, dominant man in the high districts wanted to possess Frost’s body back then. They were completely obsessed with her."

Guron let out a low chuckle, completely unimpressed by the explanation. "Isn’t that considered a massive blessing for a woman? To have the most powerful alphas fighting for her hand?"

"No, it was a terrifying curse, Guron, because those dominant men literally fought a bloody shadow war for her!" Himelda shouted, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the sheets. "They deployed their private militias, destroyed entire sector blocks, and my brother Dean was right in the middle of that crossfire. The other high-district suitors orchestrated that horrific bridge accident and had him killed simply because Dean was the one who was closest to winning her heart! They murdered my brother to eliminate the competition!"

Guron’s smile completely vanished, his face turning into a hard stone mask as the gravity of the past finally hit his understanding. "Why? Why would the elite lords of the high district go to such extreme, unhinged lengths and risk a full-scale war just to possess a single lower-sector woman? What was so genetically special about Frost?"

Himelda leaned forward, her face just inches from her husband’s as she delivered the final, mind-shattering revelation that sent a freezing chill straight down his spine.

"Because the hidden genetic data of her lineage was absolute, Guron," Himelda whispered, her final words hanging in the quiet air of the room. "If Frost mated with an Alpha, her unique body could give birth to an Enigma—the ultimate sovereign ruler who can dominate all other Alphas. Every family wanted that ultimate weapon. But in the end, to escape the bloodshed, she rejected all the elite lords and married a common, dangerous martial artist Beta... Jannah’s father!"