The mont he ntioned being "almost forty," Lilian felt a twinge of discomfort and imdiately shot back,
"You’re not that old!"
Morrison laughed, planting a deep kiss on her lips before teasing,
"Am I not?"
Lilian looked up at him. Fine lines traced the corners of his eyes as he smiled, subtle marks of age that carried the charm of a man who had lived, experienced, and matured—not a hint of weariness or decline, only a magnetic allure.
Instinctively, she lifted her hand to brush lightly against the edge of his eye, her voice soft as she said,
"You’re not old... I like it."
One mont she had been shooing him away, and now she was confessing she liked him. Lilian wondered if other girls in love felt the sa way—how easily emotions could be swayed, how quickly hearts could be moved by a glance, a smile, a touch.
As soon as she spoke, Morrison wrapped her in his arms again, pressing his lips against hers in a lingering kiss.
Lilian didn’t resist, letting him hold her, responding with gentle warmth.
When the kiss ended, Morrison furrowed his brows and sighed,
"I just realized... I’ve dug myself a hole."
"What do you an?"
Lilian tilted her head, curious, as his expression turned troubled.
"You’re pregnant... and now there’s nothing I can do anymore..."
Lilian rembered the doctor’s warning at the hospital: during the first three months and the last three months of pregnancy, intimacy was strictly forbidden, as it could endanger the baby and even cause miscarriage.
Now, wrapped in Morrison’s arms, feeling the undeniable hardness pressing against her, her cheeks flushed bright red. She snapped at him,
"You deserve it!"
Then she tried to run, but Morrison caught her in an instant, bending down to lift her into his arms. Lilian gasped, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"What are you doing?!"
"You’re pregnant. Don’t run around like this—be careful," he said.
He carried her toward the dining room, murmuring softly,
"I’ll take you back to your room."
Lilian fell silent. From the worry and tenderness in his expression, she could tell how much he cared, but she couldn’t help thinking he might be overreacting just a little.
That night, Morrison stayed in Lilian’s room, signaling the end of their little cold war.
Finally reconciled, Lilian felt both relief and a strange tension. Sharing a bed, feeling the warmth and softness of her body in his arms, Morrison couldn’t completely restrain himself. After a long, lingering kiss, he caught her small hand, pleading for her to help him ease the tension. Lilian, half embarrassed and half annoyed, declared that they would live apart starting tomorrow—but after he coaxed and cajoled her for a long ti, she finally agreed to go ho with him the next day.
The following morning, Lilian packed her things and left with Morrison. The first stop, however, surprised her: the marriage registry.
Tiffany thought that since they truly loved each other, and Lilian was already pregnant with a wedding soon to follow, early registration was both necessary and appropriate. She had no objections. Daniel, on the other hand, was a little reluctant, but Tiffany insisted, and in the end, he had no choice but to agree.
Through this incident, Morrison concluded that maintaining a good relationship with his mother-in-law Tiffany would be sufficient—Daniel could be managed indirectly, as Tiffany would keep him in line.
The registration process went smoothly. The thought that she had just handed over her entire future to Morrison made her suddenly feel panicked, scared, and bewildered—all at once.
She sat in the car, still dazed, as Morrison guided her to her seat. After helping her buckle her seatbelt, he leaned over, frowning as he noticed her absent-minded expression.
"What’s wrong?"
Her eyes t his, and in that instant, Morrison could read everything in her heart. He let out a sharp hum.
"Don’t tell you’re regretting this?"
Lilian bit her lip, silent. Morrison glared at her fiercely.
"Regret won’t help now!"
Lilian glanced at his tense profile, and slowly, her heart began to calm. She placed a hand gently over her belly and let a small, serene smile curl across her lips.
What was there to fear about the future? After all, letting a playboy like Morrison guide her first steps into love had already been bold and daring enough—so why be afraid now?
Since returning to the country, Lilian hadn’t gone back to work anywhere. After discussing with her family, she had planned to focus on her modeling career full-ti. With the covers she had shot recently, she had gained so recognition, but now, with her pregnancy, Morrison insisted she pause her modeling work. For the mont, she beca a "freelance houseguest," doing nothing but living quietly.
Knowing she couldn’t take care of herself properly, Morrison had brought her to live with the Mo family after the registration, so that Linda and the others could look after her during his busy workdays or trips. Of course, Lilian sotis returned to her parents’ ho for a stay, but for now, she was comfortably nestled in Morrison’s world.
A few days after the registration, Morrison personally flew to the United States to ask Bert to design Lilian’s wedding gown.
Bert was still in the U.S., and to show his sincerity, Morrison went in person to visit him. He knew how close Lilian was to Bert—if Bert designed her wedding dress, it would make her incredibly happy. And seeing Lilian happy was now Morrison’s top priority, so he swallowed his pride and went to beg.
At Bert’s villa, the designer didn’t bother with formalities. He didn’t drink and wasn’t in the mood to entertain anyone. He simply opened a bottle of red wine for Morrison and motioned for him to pour himself a glass. Then, smirking, he teased,
"Boss, just a few days ago, weren’t you threatening to collaborate with the S family? Did you really think I’d beg you not to? And now... look at this—who’s begging whom?"
Bert had a long mory. He hadn’t forgotten the last ti Morrison had provoked him, so now that Morrison was here asking for a favor, Bert spared no chance to needle him.
Morrison could only listen and smile apologetically.
"Everything has its turn. Last ti I pushed you, now it’s my turn to co begging," he said, a hint of ruefulness in his tone.
He couldn’t help feeling a little frustrated. Yes, he had used the S family collaboration to provoke Bert before, but in the end, Bert hadn’t co begging, and he himself hadn’t actually collaborated with them. There was no need to upset Bert over so company.
Bert snorted.
"So you can swallow your pride and co ask for a favor?"
Morrison swirled the wine in his glass.
"I hope you can understand my intentions. I’m asking for no one else, only to give Lilian a perfect wedding."
Bert glanced at him, and the teasing in his expression softened. Of course, his heart was aligned with Morrison’s: Lilian’s wedding was a once-in-a-lifeti event. As her brother, he naturally wanted to give her the best.
Even though he still had so lingering resentnt toward Morrison, Bert set it aside and ultimately agreed to the request.
Before letting Morrison go, however, he couldn’t resist one final jab.
"I hope this is Lilian’s one and only wedding. I’ll pour all my effort into designing the perfect gown for her. But if there’s ever a second wedding... even if I bleed to do it, I’ll make it even more perfect than this one."
With those words, Bert was sending Morrison a clear warning: if he ever betrayed Lilian or did anything that caused their marriage to collapse, as her older brother, he would not hesitate to go after him.
Morrison "..."
His future brother-in-law... was that a curse or a taunt? Sohow, it sounded sharp and grating in his ears.
Still, Morrison couldn’t resist adding his own subtle retort, voice calm but with a trace of mischief:
"You’d better make sure you keep your sister in line too."
Bert’s smirk twitched, but he didn’t respond. Morrison knew exactly what he was thinking—but one thing was clear: this wedding was going to be fiercely protected, not just by him, but by everyone who cared for Lilian.
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