Farrow's point of view The night air felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just me. I stood a few steps away from the gates of Morgan’s mansion, wrapping my arms around my body.After Morgan threw me out of the mansion, his guards had stationed themselves at the gate, making sure I had no way of getting in, but I smiled, if only they knew who they were dealing with.Morgan must have thought his words and actions would break me. He thought I would run away, hide from shame and humiliation.But he didn’t know me at all.I am not the kind of woman who gave up. I am Farrow. And I am going to get everything I want, everything I deserve. Especially the Thornhill name. That name isnt just a symbol; it was name that brings security, power, and a life of luxury. A life I am meant to have.I rested a hand on my flat stomach, it is flat for now, but it would not be forever. How I intend to go about it is still a mystery to me but hat part didn’t matter yet. What mattered was that tonight, I
Marrissa's point of view The party has finally come to an end, and all of the guests are gone. The house suddenly felt quiet, too quiet for my liking. Morgan and I stood at the front door, watching as his father’s car disappeared down the long driveway. Mr. Thornhill had been the last to leave after the birthday party, and although the air still held the faint echo of music and laughter, the celebration was over.It had been a success, more than a success, really. It had been a perfect night.Well… almost perfect.Farrow’s little stunt had come close to ruining everything, but thankfully, it did not. I refused to let her ruin Morgan's day.I turned back into the house and saw the maids moving through the banquet hall like shadows, they were working slowly, obviously exhausted. Everyone of them had been busy with one thing or the other throughout the day.Some of them were clearing out glasses, some wiping down tables, and the others gathering stray decorations. It didn’t take a geni
Marrissa's point of view I stepped inside the room, but kept one hand on the door handle, leaving it slightly opened. Trusting her this soon would be a mistake. A grave one.Farrow stood there with that same pitiful expression plastered on her face, she folded her arms across her chest as though she was bracing for something big. "I'm listening," I said, keeping my voice low but my expression unreadable.She hesitated, her lips trembling as if she was about to cry. That same pathetic look she always put on when she wanted sympathy. I sighed, feeling exhausted."Come on, I know you and I have not really been friends, but I can not bear to see you like this," I said, softening just a little. "So please, don't cry anymore."A tear slipped down her cheek, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and wiped it away.Farrow breathed in and out, in shaky sobs . "I'm… I'm really sorry for everything," she stammered.Sorry? I almost scoffed out. Farrow Hudson, apologizing? Wow, that's ne
Marrissa's point of view The afternoon sun poured through the nursery windows, casting a soft, golden glow across the room. The walls of the nursery had been freshly painted by a professional. He used a beautiful shade of lavender, a color Morgan and I had agreed was neutral enough for either a boy or a girl. It was a small but beautiful space, waiting to be filled with laughter, tiny clothes, and the soft coos of the life we were preparing to welcome. Morgan stood in the center of the room, he had just rolled his sleeves up, and he had a screwdriver in his hand, he was about assembling the baby crib. I looked at him and smiled. His usually sleek hair was slightly tousled, and the smile of happiness on his face made my day. His concentration was intense as if he was handling some difficult business proposal, but there was this gentleness in the way he moved, a silent promise of the father he was about to become. “Are you sure you are doing that right?” I teased, my voice fil
Morgan's point of view Today was supposed to be a happy day, and the nursery was supposed to be a place of peace, a space where Marrissa and I could dream about the life we were building together. Instead, it ended up being the exact opposite.I stomped out of the room, my heart pounding harder than it should have. My head hurts and I could not control my anger. I could still hear Marrissa’s voice of pain, the sharp sound kept ringing in my ears. I really did not mean to yell at her. I made a promise to myself never to shout at her again, but goddamn it, the woman made me scared and angry all at the same time. Marrissa is stubborn, so stubborn it made me want to shake some sense into her. She did too much, always pushing herself like she was not carrying our child, like she was not risking her health with every careless step. And what for? To prove what point exactly? To show me she did not need help from anyone, or to prove that she is an independent woman? I ran a hand through
Marrissa's point of view My hand stretched out to the door handle, and for some reason I did not understand,I became apprehensive, something in me told me not to open the door."Morgan," I called softly, hesitating for a split second before pushing the door open. Before my fingers could move, the door opened wide from the inside. Every muscle in my body tensed up as my eyes met the person standing in front of me.Farrow stood there, leaning against the door like she owned the place. She wore red lingerie, and the way her body was exposed and the way she smiled told me there was more to what meets the eyes.She did not look surprised. If anything, she looked amused. "Hey, Marrissa. You are back." She said in a joyful tone,like there was something we were celebrating.I didn’t respond, I couldn't because I didn’t even know what to say. My eyes moved past her, looking toward the study. The air was thick with the scent of her perfume, the kind that lingered long after someone had
Morgan's point of viewI knew everything was wrong the moment I opened my eyes.First, I noticed I was half-naked, and I did not remember removing my clothes at any time.Second, the scent in the room felt odd. It was not mine. It was not Marrissa’s, either. No. This was a scent I recognized but never wanted near me. It was Farrow's.I sat up quickly. I didn't mind the pain in my head, what bothered me was why Farrow's scent was all over me.I knew when she came into my study.She had knocked softly, stepping inside before I even acknowledged her. I had been too lost in my thoughts. My mind was replaying the look in Marrissa’s eyes when she walked away from me earlier that day. "Is everything alright? I heard Marrissa's voice earlier and she didn't sound happy and then I saw her walk out angrily," she had said. "Is everything okay between you two? Is there something I can do to help?"I did not even look at her before yelling at her to Get out.The audacity of her to show up, acting
Morgan's point of view The dim glow of the bar did little to reduce the storm inside me even for a bit. I tilted my glass, watching the amber liquid swirl before downing it in one gulp. It burned my throat, but not enough to drown out the frustration biting me at my chest. "Ring, ring, ring."For the fifth time in ten minutes, my phone vibrated on the counter. It was Marrissa. I scoffed, shaking my head. “Oh, now she notices I’m gone. Now I’m worth talking to.” I gritted my teeth, tapping my fingers against the glass before signaling the bartender for another shot. He hesitated, eyeing me cautiously. "Are you okay, Morgan?" I sighed , not even sure how to answer that question. Before I could find the words, my phone buzzed again, but this time, it was a different number. “This must be Andre,” I whispered.I chuckle, flipping my phone over, I hold down the power button. My phone screen darkened, cutting off the ringing and switching off. “They can all go to hell for a
Marrissa's point of view I didn’t go in my car. I didn’t go to Molly’s place, nor did I call Andre for help. And sure as hell, I did not go back to my own apartment. Morgan would look for me there. He could track me down faster than I could blink, and the last thing I wanted was to be found. So I grabbed my bag, flagged down a cab just outside the Thornhill mansion, and told the driver to just drive. “Where to?” he asked, watching me through the rearview mirror. “Somewhere quiet,” I whispered, looking out the window. “I’ll let you know.” I could feel the sting of tears forming in my eyes, but I blinked them away. I had cried enough already. Honestly, I think I have cried more than any human could cry in a lifetime.After about fifteen minutes, I gave him the name of a small lodge on the outskirts of the city. It was not one of those places with glossy glass windows and valet parking. This place didn’t have any stars next to its name. The kind of place no one would look at. E
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