Morgan's point of view I was angry at Marrissa, imagine her submitting a project for the WBA, as what exactly?After eating with my rival, she is trying to take a seat with me? How funny.She has been with my father for almost a week now and even though the house felt empty without her, I still did want her close to me. I can't see myself forgiving her, at least not yet.The sudden, piercing scream outside my office sent a chill through me bringing me out of my thoughts. I froze, as my pen slipped out from my fingers. What is going on? Is the building collapsing? Or there is a fire, or worse a terrorist attack?So many questions ran through my mind as I got up and walked to the door.Before I got to the door, it burst open. One of my employees stumbled inside, her face pale with panic. She gasped for breath, gripping the edge of the door frame as if it was the only thing keeping her from fainting."Sir! Sir!" Her voice was trembling and her wide eyes filled with tears. I stif
Morgan's point of view By the time I finished adding some adjustments to Marrissa’s project and submitted it, I was already ten minutes past the deadline.I leaned back in my chair, and rubbed my temples in frustration and sadness.I felt it was too late. Too late for everything. This was all my fault. If I had just listened to her that day she came to my office with her project, if I had put aside my anger for just a moment, we could have worked on it together. We would have had plenty of time to finish it properly and submit it on time. But I had not listened. I had let my pride get in the way, and now we were paying for it.I sighed and closed my eyes, even now all I could see was her lying on the floor, unconscious.My chest tightened at the picture. That image had been burned into my mind since I came out of the hospital. She had almost lost her child. My child.The weight of that truth sat heavy on my shoulders making me feel guilty.I sat for almost an hour, trying to concentr
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
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
Farrow's point of view "One for me, nil to Marrissa," I whispered under my breath as I majestically walked out of the Thornhill penthouse. I made sure my heels sounded loudly like victory drums as they clicked against the marble floor.I could hardly contain the joy bubbling up in me. My lips twitched into a smile and I tried to suppress the scream of excitement swelling in my belly. My entire organs were dancing in victory.Every step I took down the hallway was one step closer to everything I ever wanted—and one step further from the wreck Marrissa would soon become.I controlled myself until we got to the car. And the moment I entered the car and shut the door and Laird started the engine. I lost all control.‘YES!" I screamed as my arms flew in the air. "Oh my God, yes! We did it! We actually did it!" Laird laughed as he drove, keeping one hand steady on the wheel. I turned to him, grabbing his free hand and shaking it like a lottery winner."Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I
Morgan's point of view But instead of going to my room and getting the sleep I craved just a while ago, I went to Marrissa's room.Not to tell her what had just transpired between Farrow and me, but to shield her from everything.I wanted to make a proposition that we relocate immediately. She seemed to have enjoyed her stay in Spain, so Spain could become our new country. I don't mind leaving everything behind. For her, I can rebuild my life from the crash if need be.I paced outside her room for a good five minutes before I knocked.There was no answer.I knocked again, lighter this time.Still nothing.I could hear movement inside, faint and muffled, but she was not coming to the door.I rested my forehead against the wood. “Marrissa,” I said softly, “I just want to talk.”There was silence.I exhaled. Of course, she wasn’t ready. She was probably questioning everything and hell, I didn’t blame her. She had every right to.What if she thought I set this all up? What if she believe
Morgan’s point of view I was tired and sleepy, yet dad refused to let me go.He had me down with details about his swearing in and his moving into the Governor's house."Dad, Marrissa and I will not be moving in with you," I said.Dad frowned."We have had this discussion before. You are the governor, not me. Besides, I'm not a teenager. I am a man of my own and should not be tagging along with you like a puppet," I said, rather too sharply.Dad sighed.I yanked and stood up from my seat."Wait, Morgan," dad said.I paused at the door, "Dad, I'm tired, I need to get some rest," I said."Sorry son, this won't take long," he said, already instructing that coffee be brought to his study.I sighed as I reluctantly walked back to my chair."This would definitely take me time," I whispered to myself.Dad started talking about so many things, and I was barely keeping up with him.I was halfway through my second cup of coffee when James, our butler, stepped into the study with an uncertain l
Marrissa’s point of view The damn door finally opened, and I did not wait for anyone to speak. I walked out without looking back.I breezed past the young guy who had opened the door. I didn't even glance at him. My heels echoed sharply on the marble floor as I walked straight to my room.My head pounded with each step I took. The pain in my eyes made it difficult for me to think . But honestly, the hangover was not the real source of my pain.What really hurt me was deeper than that. I felt a tight, aching weight in my chest I could not even begin to name.I slammed my door shut and locked it.Then I just stood there, leaning against the door with my eyes closed.What the hell just happened?Everything from last night hit me in pieces.My mind became filled with flashes of memory I was not ready for. The kiss. His hands. The way he said my name means something to him. How I clung to him like he was the only thing keeping me alive. How I needed him at that moment. The craving I felt t
Morgan’s point of view I woke up to the weight of Marrissa's body on me, her warmth pressed into my chest, and her breath was slow and steady against my skin. She was still asleep, curled into me, taking her rightful place beside me. My arms were wrapped around her protectively, almost like my body had decided on its own that it did not want to let her go again.And for a moment, everything felt right.I laid still for a while and just watched her. The soft light of the morning had begun to leak through the curtains, and it cast a pale glow over the room. Her lashes fluttered slightly, and I wondered what she was dreaming about.Eventually, I carefully moved, trying not to wake her. I shifted out from under her and gently laid her down onto the pillows. She stirred a little, but did not wake. I stood up, walked across the room. I pulled on my pants and shirt, and headed to the far end of the room, toward the small panel hidden near the bookcase. Unless you knew it was there, you wou
Marrissa's point of view I cursed my body for betraying me, for wanting something this lustful. I looked at Morgan and saw the same lustful desire in his eyes and I quickly looked away.I focused my eyes on something else, but my heart kept drifting back to him. Neither of us said anything and the silence between us became too loud for my convenience.I sat with my knees pulled up on the velvet carpet, the sound of the party has become a faint throb behind the thick walls. Morgan had stopped talking and the whiskey bottle, now barely a third full, sat between us like a shared secret we were too afraid to name.The room was dim, the light from the fireplace in the corner made the room warm and cast shadows that danced along the walls. I could feel the tension between us shifting from irritation into something dangerous.Morgan looked at me again.No, he didn't just look at me, his eyes were fixed on me, watching me.His eyes traced every line of my body like it was some kind of space
Marrissa's point of view The silence in the room stretched down a long time, and my mind would not stop racing. The tension between us was indescribable. I stared at the amber liquid inside the bottle, swirling it slowly. I knew he was shocked to hear me talk about bullies. Anyone who knows me now without hearing my story would think I have always been this outspoken and bold Hell, there were times I didn't want morning to come because I was too scared to go to school.“I was bullied in school,” I said, not really intending to—but the words had already started. “I was that fat girl. The one people whispered about in hallways and laughed at during gym class. Boys used to pretend to flirt with me as a joke.”Morgan's brows drew together, his lips parted slightly. But I continued before he could say anything.“I hated myself. Every inch of my body was annoying to me. So one day I stopped eating. I went on some insane diet I found online. I nearly collapsed at school twice. I passed ou
Morgan's point of view I walked around the room, hating the silence between me and Marrissa, hating myself more for ruining what would have been a perfect union.Marrissa stood on the far end of the room, her arms crossed tight over her chest, refusing to look at me. And really, could I blame her? I had messed up again. She had every right to be furious, but something about the weight of her silence, the way she did not even want to fight anymore, made my chest ache in a way I didn’t know how to stop.I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated and feeling helpless. As I walked further into the room, my eyes caught a cabinet in the corner. I walked over and opened it. Inside it was a full bottle of whiskey standing tall like some forgotten souvenir from a better time.“Perfect,” I whispered. “At least this would lighten the mood.”I grabbed it and twisted the cap off with more force than necessary, and slowly walked over to Marrissa. I sat down near her, not close enough to invade her s
Marrissa's point of view I held the doorknob, needing to get out of that room, away from Morgan, away from the mess of emotions churning inside me. I twisted it hard to the left. Nothing happened. I turned it to the right. Still nothing.I frowned and tried again, this time with more force. The knob did not budge.“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, refusing to believe it. I twisted and pulled, shook the door, hit the panel with the side of my hand. It did not move. “What the fuck!” I yelled, my voice bouncing off the quiet room. I smacked the door with both hands, as the frustration in me increased.Morgan was standing behind me, watching with an irritating calm. “You may have locked it from the outside,” he said.I turned sharply to face him, fuming. “Are you serious right now?” My arms were crossed tightly across my chest. I was seriously holding back the urge to scream. “Did you do this?”He shrugged, and that annoyed me more than anything. His nonchalant attitude made m