Morgan's point of view I drove up to my mansion but did not get out of the car. The engine hummed softly beneath my hands, the glow of the headlights cutting through the early morning darkness. But I just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, staring at the front gates like they were some kind of prison bars. I knew I should go inside, but I could not.No, I was not scared,but I was tired. Tired of the many fights and quarrels.By now, Marrissa was definitely furious. She could be hurt too. Truth is, I don't think I could handle another fight. Not tonight. My head hurts so badly and it may explode if I stress myself any further.And God knows that if I see Andre I inside, I might actually lose it. The thought of him standing in my house, acting like he belonged there, like he had a right to Marrissa’s time and attention, made my blood boil. I sighed sharply and raked a hand through my hair. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for her anger. For the look in her eyes th
Morgan's point of view The hall outside the doctor’s office felt colder than the rest of the hospital. Everywhere smelled like antiseptic and I hated it.My hands curled into fists at my sides as I stood there, trying to prepare myself for what I already knew in my gut was bad news. I turned the knob and stepped inside. Dr. Patel looked up from his desk, his face lined with exhaustion. His eyes that were usually sharp now looked sad and that alone made my heart heavy. “Hello, doctor.” I greeted, my voice came out rough. “Hey, Morgan.” I noticed his tone was careful. “How are you holding up?” I nearly laughed. How the hell did he think I was doing? “What happened?” I demanded, cutting through whatever small talk he was trying to offer. “Where is my wife? How’s my child?” Dr. Patel sighed and gestured for me to sit, but I didn’t move. “Calm down, Morgan,” he said gently. I clenched my jaw. “Just tell me what happened.” He hesitated. “First, you need to know that we d
Marrissa's point of view I woke up to a cruel, suffocating silence. My body felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and something far worse, emptiness and grief. My hands moved instinctively to my stomach, my fingers trembling as they pressed against the fabric of my hospital gown. My stomach was flat. “No…” I whispered.I pressed harder, desperately searching for the familiar swell of my belly, but it was gone. Tears blurred my vision as I turned my head, my heart pounding in my chest. Maybe…maybe this was all a mistake. Maybe the doctors had been wrong. Maybe my baby was here, safe, waiting for me in a cradle nearby. I forced my eyes open and looked around, searching the sterile room, hoping to hear the soft cry of my child. But I saw nothing. I heard nothing. The doctor’s words slammed into me all over again. "I'm sorry… We did everything we could… But the baby didn’t make it." "No… No, no, no, no..” I cried. My voice cracked, the sound barely a whisper as my che
Morgan's point of view It's been three long, agonizing months. That’s how long it had been since Marrissa walked out of my life, and in those months, I had tried everything, everything, to make her speak to me. I went to her house on different occasions. Not once, not twice, not even three times.And each time I went, she humiliated me. She turned me away like I was nothing. Like I was some insignificant nuisance she could swat away without a second thought. And then, I sent dozens of messages, written once and even voice messages. Each one is marked unread, they were just piling up in her inbox like spam messages.I even went to her best friend, Molly. I pleaded with her to help, to at least get Marrissa to listen to me. But Marrissa had ended the call the moment she mentioned my name. And then, I even went to Andre. As humiliating as it was, I swallowed my pride and stood in front of the man who had every reason to hate me and apologized. I pleaded like a child to him.
Marrissa's point of view Morgan's words had cut me deeper than even he could imagine, and the most painful part was, everything he said was not entirely true nor were they all false.True, I started having contractions earlier and although I was worried, the doctor had told me to avoid stress and rest and that I did to the best of my ability. I didn't tell Morgan because I didn't want to either overwhelm him, with the stress of the WBA, and then his party and then Farrow, I felt all of that was already too much for him.And he blames me for being independent. I lost my dad before I was ten, and my mother had taught me to be strong, to be independent and to rely on no one and those values were what made me survive her death. I grew up alone with no one to assist or help so I was all I have. How is that my fucking fault? I trembled in grief.I could not even believe he accused me of wanting this, this pain. God, I have never seen a bigger fool than Morgan.Deep down, I really do not wa
Marrissa's point of view So, I threw myself into work, determined to forget the morning’s encounter with Morgan. I gritted my teeth, going through the routine Molly had taught me without a single smile on my face.“You look like you are plotting a murder.” Molly said, after the last customer left.I sighed, rubbing my temples. “Maybe I am.” She smiled. “Come on, let’s sit for a while before you actually commit a crime.” I hesitated. Sitting and talking meant giving my brain a chance to wander back to Morgan, but sitting here and stewing wasn’t any better. With a reluctant nod, I grabbed myself off the counter’s desk and followed her.I noticed you haven't had anything since you came in, Molly said, after disappearing for a while and appearing with a tray full of food.The café smelled like roasted coffee and fresh bread, but my appetite was gone. I pushed my salad around with my fork, barely paying attention. Molly watched me, sipping her iced tea. “You look like you’re about
Marrissa's point of view I moved carefully through the penthouse as the date to my flight approached. I double-checked every detail of my plans almost every hour.And of course, I made sure Morgan did not suspect anything. I avoided him as much as I could and when I could not, I would just smile, nod, and brush it off like everything was okay. God I could not wait to leave..I needed to breathe. I needed space away from his control, his accusations, his world. And most of all, I needed to figure out who I was without him and I hope to do all that in spain.The day finally came, the day of my flight. That day, I woke up before the sun rose. I moved about carefully. I had already placed my luggage in the trunk of my car the previous night.So, after freshening up, I grabbed the outfit I had set aside the night before, a simple yet elegant white slacks, a light blue blouse, and my beige trench coat. I wanted to look good and confident. Not like a woman running away. After getting dre
The universe certainly loves me. No, really, I must have done something good in my previous life to be this favored. Just look at what's going on with Marrissa and Morgan, everything I want is falling into place even without me lifting a finger. This calls for a celebration,” I said, walking to my wine cabinet.I turned on the music, the sultry notes of a jazz melody filling my dimly lit apartment. A glass of wine swirled in my hand, the deep red liquid catching the glow of the chandelier above. My lips curled into a victorious smile as I swayed my hips, moving to the rhythm. This was my moment. When Morgan threw me out of his house, I was devastated. I had truly thought I lost my chance, that he would never look at me again. Oh, how I had wept, cursing him, cursing Marrissa, cursing the cruel fate that had ripped my future from me. But now? Now, I would become priceless. The Thornhills would beg at my feet for my forgiveness. They would plead for me to come back, to restor
Morgan's point of view I barely remember the drive back to my father’s mansion. My hands gripped the steering wheel tighter than necessary and my foot pressed harder on the gas pedal than was safe. My mind was a mess, tangled between fear and hop Marrissa had to be there. “It's possible she went back to Dad's mansion to rest. She could have gotten tired of the serene at the hotel and wanted a change of environment.” That thought was the only thing that kept me sane.As soon as I pulled up, I didn’t even bother parking properly. I flung the car door open and ran into the house. My heart pounded against my ribs as I took the stairs two at a time, my only thought being, “please let her be here.” I reached her door and pushed it open without knocking. And the emptiness inside her room hit me hard.The sight of the neatly made bed and untouched belongings sent a sharp wave of panic through me. I called her again, pressing the phone to my ear, my pulse hammering. Still no reply. I
Morgan’s point of view I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the half-empty bottle of whiskey in my hand. The ice had long since melted, watering down the alcohol, but the burn did nothing to dull the ache in my chest. I took another sip, letting the bitter taste coat my tongue as my mind circled back to the only thing I could not escape—Marrissa.Her face. Her voice. The way she looked at me on the terrace.There had been something in her eyes. Could it be pity, understanding or pure resentment? At this point, I can not really tell what she feels for me. I shut my eyes, trying to push the image away, but another face surfaced in my mind—one I had not allowed myself to think about in years.My mother.I could still hear her laughter, warm and soft as it filled the halls of our home. She was everything good in my world—the glue that held our family together, the only person who could soften my father’s sharp edges. She had that effect on people. Especially me.I remembered how sh
Molly's point of view I saw the confusion in Marrissa’s eyes, and my anger increased like wildfire. I could not tell who I was more angry with. Was it Morgan, Andre, Farrow, or Marrissa herself? How could she be so blind? How could she be so shameless, forcing herself on Morgan as if he were the last man on earth? Her marriage to him had been a mistake from the beginning. When she first told me about the divorce, I knew it was inevitable. It was only a matter of time before Morgan Thornhill discarded her as he did everything else that no longer served his purpose. And now, the fact that she is actually considering going back to him makes my blood boil. I had always known Marrissa to be strong and wise, yet here she was, acting foolish and weak. I refused to believe that she had become one of those women—those pitiful creatures who stayed and suffered under the illusion of love. No, Marrissa was better than that. Or at least, she used to be. Maybe it was the influence of bei
Marrissa's point of view I stared at her, ready to hear whatever she had to say.Molly exhaled loudly, as if this burden was too much for her to bear. “I didn’t want to tell you before, because I knew how much you cared about him. But… Marrissa, Morgan hasn’t exactly been faithful to you.” I frowned. “Okay, what exactly do you know?” She nodded quickly. “I found out a while ago." I just—I didn’t know how to bring it up. But you need to know. He’s been seeing someone else.” A cold chill ran down my spine, but something about the way she said it made me pause. “Who?” Molly blinked. “What?” I leaned in. “Who is he supposedly seeing?” She looked away for a brief second, and that hesitation told me everything I needed to know. “Molly…” I whispered, suddenly feeling on edge. She cleared her throat. “I—her name is Lisa.” Lisa? The name meant nothing to me. “Lisa who?” Molly shifted in her seat. “Just… Lisa. I don’t know her last name. But I’ve seen them together, Marriss
Marrissa's point of view I watched Morgan walk away and sighed in frustration.At this point, my mind was more of a battlefield than an organ. My memories keep clashing with fears, love wrestling with pain. Morgan's words kept ringing in my ears, wrapping around me like a chain I was not sure that I wanted to break. "I need a distraction before I run mad," I whispered, dialing Molly's number. I wanted to be sure she was at home.After confirming she was I booked a ride to her apartment. I closed my eyes all through the journey, forcing back the tears threatening to fall.By the time I arrived at Molly’s apartment, my hands were trembling, my chest tight with everything I had been holding in. I knocked weakly, barely able to stand upright anymore. The door opened almost instantly, and the moment I saw Molly’s familiar face, the last bit of control I had crumbled. “Marrissa?” Her voice was soft, filled with concern. I could not answer. Tears spilled down my cheeks as my body sh
Marrissa's point of view The sound of cheers, laughter, and clinking of glasses filled the grand hall, a symphony of celebration that echoed through the luxurious hotel. The air was thick with joy, and at the center of it all stood Morgan and his father, radiating happiness. Mr. Thornhill, the newly elected governor, was the man of the hour, and rightfully so.I watched them, my heart swelling with joy. Morgan, a man who had spent years under the weight of his father's expectations, now stood beside him, as a silent pillar of strength and pride. He wasn’t smiling, not in the way others were, but I knew him well enough to see the quiet joy in his eyes. This was a victory not just for his father, but for him too.I was happy for them. If any of the candidates deserved to win, it was Mr Thornhill. He had the people’s best interests at heart, and I knew he would bring the kind of change the city needed. He was a powerful force, one I had admired from afar before I ever became entangled i
Mr Thornhill's point of view My governor's campaign was brutal from day one. My two main opponents, Étienne Moreau and Mathieu Lacroix, took politics to a different level.The televised debates were some of the most stressful moments of my life. Moreau spoke with calmness, deflecting criticisms with political finesse. Lacroix was blunt, attacking me for my radical policies and dismissing climate concerns as idealistic. But I fought back. When Moreau insisted Paris needed continuity, I countered, “Stability for whom? "The working class struggling to make rent or the elite profiting from their struggles?” When Lacroix preached economic growth through deregulation, I reminded him that unchecked greed had already made the city too hard for most people. As the election drew closer, the polls showed a tight race between me and Moreau, with Lacroix slightly trailing behind us. The media called it one of the most unpredictable elections in recent history. I knew I had a chance—but I also
Mr Thornhill's point of view The weight of leadership is a heavy one, but I have carried it for decades. From building my business empire to navigating the treacherous waters of politics, I have learned that true power requires patience, resilience, and the right people by my side.My bid for governor was no different. It requires careful planning and strategy. That was why I called Morgan back to Paris. And, much to his surprise, I made sure Marrissa was involved as well.My son had always been brilliant, but he was arrogant, emotional, and stubborn. I had raised him to be a leader, yet he had a tendency to act before thinking, especially when it came to Marrissa. She was his greatest weakness and, ironically, his greatest strength. I knew that if I wanted him to focus, I had to bring her back.From the moment we announced my candidacy, the game had changed. The media swarmed around us, my opponents sharpened their knives, and every detail of my life was suddenly under scrutiny. I ha
Morgan's point of view I watched as Marrissa walked away, her figure growing smaller with each step along the shoreline. The waves washed over the sand, erasing her footprints, much like she was trying to erase me from her life.The finality of her words rang in my ears."Let's just stick to the divorce plan."I should have expected it. Marrissa had every reason to walk away from me. But hearing those words come from her still hit harder than I wanted to admit.The wind blew violently, carrying the scent of salt and something bitter, my regret. My hands clenched at my sides as I watched her disappear over the dunes, heading back to the estate. I could chase after her. Tell her that she was making a mistake. That I was not ready to let her go.But I didn’t.Because I knew her.Marrissa wasn’t the type to make empty threats. When she made a decision, she stuck to it. And tonight, she had made hers.With a sharp sigh, I turned my eyes back to the ocean, staring at the endless stretch of