Farrow's point of view My dad’s death has shattered me in ways I can not explain. It was not just the grief that came with his passing that hurt me, it was the financial imbalance that followed. That was what truly broke me. The next day after dad was buried, everything began to crumble. His businesses, his assets, his properties, everything was frozen by the police. They shut it all down in the name of an investigation, locking me out of the life I had always known. Some of Dad’s so-called friends had given me money, but it was nothing compared to having control of everything at your disposal. I was not the one pulling the strings anymore. I was not the daughter of a powerful man—I was just an ordinary girl with no wealth, no influence, and soon, no option than to work just to survive. I shook my head, rejecting the very thought. I can never work just to survive, besides I have no skill whatsoever so who would employ someone like me.And do you know my maids left even before da
Farrow's point of view I sat across from my accomplice, keeping my expression serious, I folded my hands on the table standing between us. If someone had come in and saw that scene, the person would have thought we were about to agree or even engage in a fight."I'm pregnant," I said, making sure my voice sounded serious. The reaction was instant. My accomplice’s face changed color immediately. Everything changed, facial expression, the air in the room, everything except for me."And I’m keeping this baby," I continued before any words were said. "No matter what you say, Morgan. This child is the result of our night together at the Governor’s party, and I—I do not know what to do aside from keeping the baby and taking responsibility." I saw my accomplice's lips parted, but no words came out. I smiled, liking the reaction.My accomplice stared at me, stunned, frozen in place. I allowed the tension to hang between us for some seconds. Then, I slowly laughed out loud, smiling lik
Farrow's point of view I came back home from school and heard my mom screaming. My dad was shouting right back, their voices was high and clashing in a way that had become all too familiar to me and everyone who lived here with us. Mom was crying—again. Sounds embarrassing right? Well that was the kind of environment I grew up in. I couldn't even invite my friends to the house for fear that mom and dad might end up fighting and embarrassing everyone. The annoying part was they never gave a sign. We could all be eating happily on the dining table and the next thing, either mom or dad might make a comment that would flare the other party up and before you could say JACK ROBINSON, the two would start shouting on top of their voices and soon shattering of items begin.Sometimes, I wonder if they don't get tired, or ashamed or if they even think about their health with all the shouting or if they know what their constant bickering does to my mental health.Well that day, I didn’t even
Farrow's point of view I did not just hate my mother, I despised her. But if I was to be truly honest, I hated my father even more. And I placed all my anger, my resentment, my frustration on him. It was the only way I knew to make him feel the same pain I carried every single day. I became his nightmare, the thorn that refused to be plucked from his side. If he said right, I went left. If he said up, I dived down. Every rule, every expectation, every command he made, I went against them headstrong just to see the vein in his forehead bulge with frustration. Skipping classes became a hobby, a personal rebellion against my father. My teachers stopped bothering to report me because they knew nothing would change. The name Hudson carried weight, and as long as that name was on the school’s donation list, I was untouchable. And drugs became my best buddy. They made me feel nothing from the expectations that suffocated me. The clubs became my sanctuary, the one place I could breat
Marrissa's point of view It had been three agonizing days. Three days of waiting for the WBA results. I hated the wait, hate not knowing what the result would be.I always jerk whenever I hear the sound of notification on my laptop. I checked my mails more than ten times everyday, checking for any good news.I have asked Morgan about the results almost five times in those three days and each time I ask him he rolls his eyes.Today, at the breakfast table,I asked again. "How many more days do we have to wait?" Morgan rolled his eyes, setting his fork down with force. "Marrissa, thinking about the results would not make them come any faster. Neither will you asking me about it every day. You need to stop obsessing over it." He took a sip of his coffee, eyeing me like he hated the fact that I was constantly reminding him about the WBA.I frowned. "But what if the results come in today and we do make it?"Morgan sighed, rubbing his temple as though my worry was giving him a headache. "A
Marrissa's point of view I turned towards the door,but paused when I heard Morgan's next words.“You and I know we have a connection, something we can not hide or control.”“Connection?” I asked as I turned towards him.“I see nor feel no connection with you Morgan, apart from the fact that I'm unfortunately carrying your child,” “Really, Then why do you melt at my every touch, " he said, cutting my statement.“Oh please Morgan, you aren't really the best I have had.”He raised an eyebrow and walked towards me. I could sense danger coming but stupidly I did nothing but watch me.He closed the door behind me and whispered in my ears.“Marrissa, you know the truth, why fight it?”His voice brought a chilly sensation down my body and I suddenly felt wet.I saw the corner of his mouth curled into a smile as if he knew the effect he was having on me.Then he pulled up my shirt and my bra in half. My breasts tumbled out like they were tired of being trapped in. Morgan looked at them.for a
Morgan's point of view I smiled as I watched Marrissa walk out of my office in anger, her waist swaying left and right, her clothes revealing her curves in the most sexy way with each step she took. My body moved with excitement as I thought about the hot steamy sex we just shared. My shirt was still open and my breath still unsteady.It's clear that neither I nor Marrissa can deny the pull between us. No matter how much we fought, no matter how much she annoyed me with her stubborn attitude, when it came to sex, we are in perfect harmony. Our bodies and minds always move in the same rhythm. “If sex is all I can get from our relationship, then I'm okay with it.” I thought with a smile.With a sigh, I reached for the package Kathy had dropped off earlier. I tore off the wrapping and found a small box inside. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity as I lifted the lid, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper.I unfolded the paper and read the contents.*"Congratulations! Your project has
Morgan's point of view After dad left, I went back to my seat and stared at the screen of my laptop. The fact that my company is part of the nominees for the award still shocked me. But even as I read the words, they felt blurred, too good to be true.The WBA project had finally been secured, and yet, I felt unsettled. No, that was not the right word. I felt… grateful. And that was a rare thing for me. Marrissa had saved the project, saved me from my own arrogance. She had worked tirelessly despite everything I had thrown at her—my distrust, my accusations, my inability to see past my own rage. And she had not done it for me. She had done it because she believed in the work, in the company, in herself. I leaned back in my chair, taking a deep breath. Marrissa had every right to walk away, to let me crash and burn. But she stayed. And I had done nothing to show her that I appreciate her, from the very first day I set my eyes on her. I was not the type of man to offer empty
Morgan's point of view After dad left, I went back to my seat and stared at the screen of my laptop. The fact that my company is part of the nominees for the award still shocked me. But even as I read the words, they felt blurred, too good to be true.The WBA project had finally been secured, and yet, I felt unsettled. No, that was not the right word. I felt… grateful. And that was a rare thing for me. Marrissa had saved the project, saved me from my own arrogance. She had worked tirelessly despite everything I had thrown at her—my distrust, my accusations, my inability to see past my own rage. And she had not done it for me. She had done it because she believed in the work, in the company, in herself. I leaned back in my chair, taking a deep breath. Marrissa had every right to walk away, to let me crash and burn. But she stayed. And I had done nothing to show her that I appreciate her, from the very first day I set my eyes on her. I was not the type of man to offer empty
Morgan's point of view I smiled as I watched Marrissa walk out of my office in anger, her waist swaying left and right, her clothes revealing her curves in the most sexy way with each step she took. My body moved with excitement as I thought about the hot steamy sex we just shared. My shirt was still open and my breath still unsteady.It's clear that neither I nor Marrissa can deny the pull between us. No matter how much we fought, no matter how much she annoyed me with her stubborn attitude, when it came to sex, we are in perfect harmony. Our bodies and minds always move in the same rhythm. “If sex is all I can get from our relationship, then I'm okay with it.” I thought with a smile.With a sigh, I reached for the package Kathy had dropped off earlier. I tore off the wrapping and found a small box inside. I raised an eyebrow in curiosity as I lifted the lid, revealing a neatly folded piece of paper.I unfolded the paper and read the contents.*"Congratulations! Your project has
Marrissa's point of view I turned towards the door,but paused when I heard Morgan's next words.“You and I know we have a connection, something we can not hide or control.”“Connection?” I asked as I turned towards him.“I see nor feel no connection with you Morgan, apart from the fact that I'm unfortunately carrying your child,” “Really, Then why do you melt at my every touch, " he said, cutting my statement.“Oh please Morgan, you aren't really the best I have had.”He raised an eyebrow and walked towards me. I could sense danger coming but stupidly I did nothing but watch me.He closed the door behind me and whispered in my ears.“Marrissa, you know the truth, why fight it?”His voice brought a chilly sensation down my body and I suddenly felt wet.I saw the corner of his mouth curled into a smile as if he knew the effect he was having on me.Then he pulled up my shirt and my bra in half. My breasts tumbled out like they were tired of being trapped in. Morgan looked at them.for a
Marrissa's point of view It had been three agonizing days. Three days of waiting for the WBA results. I hated the wait, hate not knowing what the result would be.I always jerk whenever I hear the sound of notification on my laptop. I checked my mails more than ten times everyday, checking for any good news.I have asked Morgan about the results almost five times in those three days and each time I ask him he rolls his eyes.Today, at the breakfast table,I asked again. "How many more days do we have to wait?" Morgan rolled his eyes, setting his fork down with force. "Marrissa, thinking about the results would not make them come any faster. Neither will you asking me about it every day. You need to stop obsessing over it." He took a sip of his coffee, eyeing me like he hated the fact that I was constantly reminding him about the WBA.I frowned. "But what if the results come in today and we do make it?"Morgan sighed, rubbing his temple as though my worry was giving him a headache. "A
Farrow's point of view I did not just hate my mother, I despised her. But if I was to be truly honest, I hated my father even more. And I placed all my anger, my resentment, my frustration on him. It was the only way I knew to make him feel the same pain I carried every single day. I became his nightmare, the thorn that refused to be plucked from his side. If he said right, I went left. If he said up, I dived down. Every rule, every expectation, every command he made, I went against them headstrong just to see the vein in his forehead bulge with frustration. Skipping classes became a hobby, a personal rebellion against my father. My teachers stopped bothering to report me because they knew nothing would change. The name Hudson carried weight, and as long as that name was on the school’s donation list, I was untouchable. And drugs became my best buddy. They made me feel nothing from the expectations that suffocated me. The clubs became my sanctuary, the one place I could breat
Farrow's point of view I came back home from school and heard my mom screaming. My dad was shouting right back, their voices was high and clashing in a way that had become all too familiar to me and everyone who lived here with us. Mom was crying—again. Sounds embarrassing right? Well that was the kind of environment I grew up in. I couldn't even invite my friends to the house for fear that mom and dad might end up fighting and embarrassing everyone. The annoying part was they never gave a sign. We could all be eating happily on the dining table and the next thing, either mom or dad might make a comment that would flare the other party up and before you could say JACK ROBINSON, the two would start shouting on top of their voices and soon shattering of items begin.Sometimes, I wonder if they don't get tired, or ashamed or if they even think about their health with all the shouting or if they know what their constant bickering does to my mental health.Well that day, I didn’t even
Farrow's point of view I sat across from my accomplice, keeping my expression serious, I folded my hands on the table standing between us. If someone had come in and saw that scene, the person would have thought we were about to agree or even engage in a fight."I'm pregnant," I said, making sure my voice sounded serious. The reaction was instant. My accomplice’s face changed color immediately. Everything changed, facial expression, the air in the room, everything except for me."And I’m keeping this baby," I continued before any words were said. "No matter what you say, Morgan. This child is the result of our night together at the Governor’s party, and I—I do not know what to do aside from keeping the baby and taking responsibility." I saw my accomplice's lips parted, but no words came out. I smiled, liking the reaction.My accomplice stared at me, stunned, frozen in place. I allowed the tension to hang between us for some seconds. Then, I slowly laughed out loud, smiling lik
Farrow's point of view My dad’s death has shattered me in ways I can not explain. It was not just the grief that came with his passing that hurt me, it was the financial imbalance that followed. That was what truly broke me. The next day after dad was buried, everything began to crumble. His businesses, his assets, his properties, everything was frozen by the police. They shut it all down in the name of an investigation, locking me out of the life I had always known. Some of Dad’s so-called friends had given me money, but it was nothing compared to having control of everything at your disposal. I was not the one pulling the strings anymore. I was not the daughter of a powerful man—I was just an ordinary girl with no wealth, no influence, and soon, no option than to work just to survive. I shook my head, rejecting the very thought. I can never work just to survive, besides I have no skill whatsoever so who would employ someone like me.And do you know my maids left even before da
Marrissa's point of view I woke up to the sound of heavy breathing and the faint scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. My eyelids were heavy and my body sore, but the warmth around my hand was the first thing I noticed. I turned my head slightly and saw Morgan. He rested his head on the edge of my hospital bed, his dark hair slightly disheveled..What surprised me the most is his large hands wrapped around my own, holding me like he was afraid I would disappear if he let go. For a few seconds, I just stared at our hands. Morgan Thornhill does not act like this. He didn’t hold hands. He didn’t stay by bedsides.Especially not at this time when he sees me as his enemy. I tried to pull my hand away from his hand without waking him, but it didn't work out the way I had planned. My slight movement made him stir, but his hand didn't let go of my hand, instead he tightened his grip on me before his eyes opened wide. He blinked a couple of times before turning to look at me. “He