Blimey, My Kid's the Heir to the Billionaire Boss！

A force shoved Sadie Roth onto the bed, spreading her legs as she arched her hips instinctively. Confusion clouded her mind; she didn't understand why she couldn't control herself. One thought consumed her—she needed him to take her, hard and fast. He complied without hesitation.

As he entered her, a sinking feeling settled in her chest. She was, in fact, having sex with a stranger. Despite her muddled thoughts, she remembered the engagement party where her fiancé had betrayed her. In despair, her cousin Leah had whisked her away to a nightclub, where the drinks flowed too freely.

Drunkenly, she had declared her intention to get back at her fiancé. Leah, ever the enabler, arranged for a male escort immediately.

"Mm," Sadie moaned softly, the stranger's thrusts making her bite a corner of the pillow. Her legs wrapped around his waist, tightening with each powerful movement. He maintained a relentless pace, filling her repeatedly. Sadie's muffled moans grew louder, her body aligning with his rhythm as the night wore on. She didn't even see his face clearly before losing her virginity to him. Only at dawn did the man leave.

When she finally opened her blurry eyes, all she saw was his tall, slender back and a fierce wolf head tattoo on his lower back. The night's excessive stimulation left her body aching all over. She tugged at her hair in frustration and regret.

But what hurt more than her physical pain was the barrage of news she encountered as soon as she exited the hotel. Reporters swarmed her, their cameras flashing incessantly and harsh words cutting like knives.

"Ms. Roth, is it true you got dumped by the Potter family and then spent the night with an escort?" one reporter asked.

"Ms. Roth, did you know your father went bankrupt?" another reporter asked.

"Ms. Roth, we've just received news that your father, Edmond Roth, jumped off the Roth Group building." one reporter stated.

...

In one night, Sadie lost everything, going from a highly regarded socialite to a scandal-ridden pariah.

Four years later, at the train station, Sadie and Brenda Clark led three children, returning to the city from the countryside. Brenda, as round as a ball, labored under the weight of two large suitcases. They resembled migrant workers, their faded backpacks and worn clothes contrasting sharply with their surroundings.

"Get away! So dirty!" An elegently dressed woman shoved Brenda aside. Her mink coat made her look like a territorial mother bear protecting her cubs.

Sadie was about to confront the woman when she noticed a row of luxury cars pulling up. The black doors opened in unison, and dozens of impeccably dressed bodyguards stepped out, forming two neat lines. "Welcome back, Young Madam!" they greeted in unison.