He was the successor of a mysterious European family and the president of a transnational financial conglomerate. Although a bachelor for years, he had a 6-year-old son.
She was the head of the Criminal Investigation Department of the North District Police Station, a dumb violent police officer.
When they first met, she thought he was a mobster. Not only did she crash into his expensive sports car, but even bit him.
He calmly raised his slender fingers with teeth marks and said, "Hester, do you think you can get away after biting me? I want money, or this isn't over."
She buckled when she noticed the bite mark, asking sheepishly, "How much?"
"Let's see. 500,000." He smiled charmingly but was cooking up a plan. "Bucks!"
She only made 4, 500 a month. Bursting into tears, she said pitifully, "What if I can't afford it?"
The smile on his thin lips spread wider. "Then I guess you will make do. I am in need of a girlfriend, and my son a mother."
However, she didn't want to be a stepmother!
The spoiled brat countered, "I don't want that dumb woman to be my mommy! I only agreed to call her mother for Daddy's sake. It's not because I like her or anything!"

The Odyssey of a Woman from Mars

The lights in the gorgeous villa were warm and yellow. Bette took the bone porcelain coffee cup and had a sip, and quietly read the original text on her lap.


Bette smiled, stood up, and opened the door.


Lightning and thunder tore open the dark sky.


Hester, who was in a sorry state, stood at the door and stared at Bette.


"You arrived a little later than I thought." Bette smiled. "Come in."


Unlike Bette's elegance and dignity, Hester was covered in rain and dirt. Hester's hair was scattered, and strands of hair stuck to her face. Hester's originally clean and elegant face was pale and cold because of the cold rain.


"Return my son to me." Hester stood in front of Bette and said word by word, her voice as firm as a stone.


Bette sat back on the sofa, put the blanket on her lap, picked up the coffee cup, and took a sip. She looked up at the battered Hester, "Your son? Do you think you deserve it?"


Let Go My Son