Morgan Myers was on edge, bracing herself for the dangerous meeting ahead tonight.

She had specifically asked Daleyza Watson to come with her for backup.

"Relax. I'm right here, okay? I won't let Jones Williamson lay a finger on you," Daleyza said, her tone soothing. As a senior colleague and mentor who'd guided Morgan for years, her presence eased some of Morgan's frayed nerves.

The Manhattan Club was a favorite haunt of the city's elite.

Jones had just finished with a client and had the private room to himself, drinking in the luxury. He ran his hand over the leather couch, relishing how cash could buy this kind of class—good booze, flawless service, even the A-list entertainers. If only he could afford to indulge like this more often, he thought wistfully.

That was when Morgan stepped inside.

Jones leered at her long, toned legs, baffled. A body like that, and she was hiding it under such boring clothes?

"Well, look who showed up," he sneered, lifting his glass toward her.

"Let's skip the games. You're not finding a new partner anytime soon, and anything rushed will crash and burn. For your own good, teaming up with my firm is the smartest move. I'll resign, and we end this personal war right here. Deal?" Morgan laid it out.

Jones snorted. "Walk away with just a resignation? Not a chance. Have a drink with me first, or there's nothing to talk about."

"You—"

Daleyza leaned closer, her whisper low but sharp. "Just go along with it. I've got your back. If you get a little tipsy, I'll drag you out of here myself. We'll keep him in check. If you blow this deal, it's not just you who suffers—your whole team of six goes down with you. This isn't school. The real world doesn't play fair."

Morgan's fists clenched as she absorbed Daleyza's words. "You promise you won't leave me?"

"I swear."

With that promise, Morgan agreed to the drink.

Her tolerance was pathetic. After a few strong ones, she was already unsteady on her feet.

"Are we done now?"

"Sure, sure," Jones replied with a greasy grin, his hand already sliding up her thigh.

Heart racing, Morgan shifted closer to Daleyza—but instead of shelter, she was pushed right back into Jones's reach.

"Daleyza…" Morgan's voice cracked, a raw mix of betrayal and desperation as clarity cut through the haze.

Daleyza's face flickered with guilt. "Don't blame me. Jones offered me four grand. If this deal closes, there's another four grand bonus. I need it for my son's tutoring. Blame yourself for not being savvy enough and dragging us all down!"

And with that, Daleyza turned and walked out.

Morgan felt like a monster was dragging her into an abyss.

Jones let out a twisted laugh as he pinned her beneath him.

In a sudden flash of clarity, Morgan's hand found a wine bottle on the coffee table.

She froze for a split second, Magnus Moore's words echoing in her mind: "Remember—no matter what, never hurt yourself."

Steeling herself, she smashed the bottle over Jones's head.

He howled in pain, rolling on the floor, and Morgan seized her chance to bolt.

"Help—"

She'd barely opened the door and cried out when Jones lunged after her, yanking her back inside.

The door slammed shut.

At that same moment, in a nearby elevator, Magnus felt an inexplicable jolt, almost as if he'd heard a familiar voice—one that reminded him of his new bride.

"Something bothering you?" Dariel Freeman asked, catching his distraction.

"Nothing. Must've imagined it."

Why would she be here?

The elevator stopped on that floor. The doors were almost closed.

Inside the room, Jones wiped the blood from his forehead, seething. He lashed out with a couple of brutal kicks.

"You stupid woman! I came after you with respect, and you humiliated me for that worthless security guard. Now you're going to submit to me!"

He started ripping at her clothes.

Gasping, fading, Morgan clawed at her clothing, desperate.

Enraged, Jones slapped her so hard her cheek felt like it had caught fire. Her mind started sinking into blackness.

Who could save her now?

As consciousness slipped, she had the sensation of being yanked into a bottomless pit.

She blacked out. Jones eagerly tore her clothes, exposing her shoulder.

Just as he leaned in for a kiss, the door exploded inward from a powerful kick.

"Who the hell—"

Furious, Jones spun around—and froze when he saw Magnus.

"You low-rent security guard, do you even know where you are? Know who I am? You're nothing but a broke-ass guard. You can't touch me!"

Jones scrambled up, jabbing a finger at Magnus.

"Your wife came to me because you're a loser. What can you give her—"

Before he could finish, Magnus kicked him so hard Jones flew backward, slamming into the wall and sliding down in agony.

It felt like his guts had rearranged themselves, ribs cracking.

He opened his mouth to scream but only spat blood.

"Need a hand, bro?" Dariel called, poking his head in after the commotion.

"Don't look!" Magnus barked, quickly draping his jacket over Morgan.

Dariel pulled back, smart enough not to push.

"You're done. You've made a huge mistake. You hit me. I'll sue everything you've got—" Jones boasted from the floor.

He had connections. He could destroy a nobody guard.

Magnus, fed up with the bluster, narrowed his eyes.

He strolled over. Jones tried to rise but was slammed down by a heavy foot on his back.

One relentless stomp.

As the elevator doors had nearly closed, Magnus felt a sudden, fierce urgency—acting on pure instinct, he jammed his hand between the doors and sprinted out.

The sound he'd heard had come from the room by the elevator.

Following his gut, he found Morgan's room. The sight ignited a cold rage.

His fury surged—a burning need to make Jones pay.

"You're begging for it…"

Jones tried to scream for help. "Help! Someone call the cops—"

"Which hand did you touch her with?" came an icy, deadly voice from above.

Jones was petrified, pleading.

But no one came.

The door was wide open, yet nobody dared step in to save him.

Magnus ran out of patience.

"Was it this one?" He stomped on Jones's left hand until it was mangled, flesh and blood mingling in a gruesome mess.

Jones could only shriek.

"Must be this one, then." Magnus crushed the right hand until Jones finally passed out from the agony.

Magnus's gaze was Arctic cold. This filth had dared to touch his wife?

Before, when Morgan was in danger, he'd held back. He wouldn't have intervened after their divorce. But now? She was his lawful wife.

Magnus was the type to fiercely protect his own.

Willa Perez approached him, tears streaming.

"Uncle Magnus, did Morgan tell you something? If it was really me, why couldn't you find any proof? Morgan would do anything to lock down her position—even lie about me. Uncle, you raised me. You'd trust her over your own?"

Her eyes brimmed with despair.

To an outsider, it looked like Magnus only listened to his wife. Willa seemed the picture of innocence.

Magnus just stared at her, cold and level.

How had the child he'd raised turned into this?

A master manipulator, lying through her teeth without a flinch. Devious and dark.

He'd only ever taught her good values. He'd loved her with everything he had, even though she was just his adopted niece.

Now Willa made him feel gutted, questioning his own parenting.

Would he be a terrible father to Morgan and their future child?

Magnus, a man who'd never known failure, had royally screwed up with Willa.

His mood darkened. Slowly, he wrapped his hand around Willa's throat and squeezed.

She gasped, terror flooding her at the fury in Magnus's eyes.

"U-uncle…"

Dakota Miller jumped. "Sir!"

"I know what I'm doing. It makes me sick. The child I raised turned into a lying schemer. Willa, how did you manipulate Clementine Silva? How'd you use Celeste Williamson to ruin Morgan's face? Even when I was overseas, lying half-dead from injuries, you tormented her for over a week."

"The day your biological parents found you, the next day you started plotting their downfall."

"Willa, you remember nothing of the Perez family's kindness. You only remember who pissed you off, who blocked your path. You'd throw everything away for your own gain. A person like that has no place in the Perez family. Go back to the family you were born to. From today on, you have no ties to us."

Magnus released her, letting her crumple to the floor, pale as a corpse.

He was cutting ties.

She was being thrown out of the Perez family?

No. She'd put up with the Tanners just to secure her spot. She'd endured so much without a single complaint, and now Uncle was casting her aside?

"Uncle… without the Perez family, how am I supposed to survive? The Tanners will destroy me."

"Isn't that exactly what you do to others, hiding behind the Perez name?"

"Uncle… Willa knows she messed up. Uncle, please, give me one more shot. I swear I'll be good. Please, Uncle, don't abandon me…"

Willa sobbed, ugly and desperate.

Magnus sneered. Was she sorry because she truly understood what she'd done wrong?

No. She was just terrified of losing her cushioned life, blind to how serious her sins were.

"Dakota, put out a statement from the Perez Group's PR account. Announce that Willa's biological parents have come for her, and I, moved by their sincerity, have agreed. From now on, Willa is no longer the adopted daughter of the Perez family. We've done our duty by raising her over twenty years. Her path is her own now."

"Also, Willa's actions are her own and have nothing to do with the Perez family. She'll settle her own debts."

It hit Willa—Uncle knew all her recent dirty deeds.

She was drowning in debt, owing a hundred thousand dollars.

Without the Perez family backing her, there was no way she could ever pay it back.

"You're signing my death warrant, Uncle!"

"Did you show any mercy when you went after Morgan's life?"

"Uncle…"

"Don't call me uncle. You make me sick. Dakota, get her out."

Magnus walked away, deaf to Willa's pleading.

Dakota was tasked with escorting her out.

Willa fought like a wildcat. "Don't touch me! Uncle is just mad. He'll forgive me…"

"Don't touch me! Touch me again and you'll regret it. I'm a lady of the Perez family."

Dakota chuckled dryly. "Escort her out."

He dropped the act and ordered security to toss her out.

In full view of everyone, Willa was physically removed, the whispers buzzing all around.

Dakota moved fast, firing off the statement from the Perez Group's account.

Comments flooded in immediately.

The cut was clean—a total ejection, not some touching reunion with her parents.

Willa found herself dumped at the gate, humiliated beyond belief.

Her face burned with shame; she felt like all her blood had rushed to her head.

Frantically, she brushed herself off, smoothing her precious Chanel dress.

As she straightened up, she spotted Morgan getting out of a car, carrying a coffee thermos into the Perez building.

Morgan glanced at her with utter indifference and kept walking.

"Morgan, stop right there."

Willa, who'd been planning to slink away, was suddenly seething. That woman had ruined everything.

Willa lunged, aiming to grab Morgan by the hair and land a stinging slap—but she couldn't even graze Morgan's clothes before security blocked her.

Morgan paused, looking back without a flicker of emotion.

"Did you need something?"

"You poisoned my uncle's ears with your lies. Now you've gotten your way, but you'll regret it. Even with me gone, your problems aren't over. You came from nothing. Even as Mrs. Moore, you'll always feel insecure, always looking over your shoulder. There are plenty of women chasing your husband. The distrust will eat you alive until it destroys your marriage."

Morgan laughed, completely unruffled.

Willa's last-ditch effort to rattle her with empty threats was laughable.

Morgan wouldn't question Magnus. If anything ever felt off, she'd walk away with her head high.

She wouldn't be the one to break.

"Anything else? If not, I'm heading in."

Morgan turned to leave, but Willa called after her.

"Please… just let me keep a way out. I really do regret what I did. Uncle listens to you more than anyone. Can't you persuade him not to kick me out of the Perez family?"

Desperate to hold onto her luxe life, Willa bowed to the person she hated most.

But she believed that given a chance to rise again, she'd crush Morgan without a second thought.

Magnus barely spared Jones a glance as he scooped Morgan into his arms. She was so light it made his brow furrow.

"M-Magnus…" Morgan's weak voice reached him. She looked up with heavy-lidded eyes, managing only those two words before everything went black.

As Magnus left, he passed Dariel. "Take care of it," he said, his tone ice cold.

Dariel rubbed his nose, wisely keeping his questions to himself. He had the place cleared out efficiently, then made his way to the hospital, where he found Magnus posted at Morgan's bedside.

Morgan had passed out from the pain—her lower abdomen a mess of bruises, a fever born of panic and fear keeping her unconscious.

"I dealt with Jones," Dariel reported. "He's being investigated for embezzlement and bribery. Doubt he'll bother her again. Your cover's still intact."

Magnus gave a curt nod.

Dariel slipped out, giving them some privacy.

Morgan was trapped in a nightmare, locked in a room with no way out, calling for help that never came. "Let me out… Please, somebody, help me…" she begged, desperate.

Then a hand reached through the darkness, gripping hers tight and pulling her to safety.

Consciousness came in waves. She blinked her eyes open to the sound of a soft, low voice.

Magnus held her hand in one of his, phone pressed to his ear with the other. The second he felt her stir, he ended the call.

"You in pain?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"How… how did I get here? Jones… he didn't hurt you, right?" Her voice was laced with worry and disbelief. Even with her eyes shut, she'd sensed some of what went down outside the club room.

Magnus had stepped in to protect her, risked a confrontation. A regular security guard shouldn't have stood a chance against Jones, and Morgan didn't want an innocent bystander getting dragged into her mess.

"Jones is under investigation for serious embezzlement. Cops have him under surveillance. He never got the chance to lay a finger on me before they hauled him in."

"That's such a relief!" Morgan let out a breath, grateful justice was being served. "Thanks for staying here with me. Isn't this going to mess with your job?"

"It's fine. I took a few days off."

Comforted by his presence, Morgan settled into the hospital routine. Magnus stayed with her for a day before the demands of Moore Enterprises pulled him away.

"The company's dealing with a security issue—they're tightening protocols. I'll try to bring you lunch if I can. If not, make sure you eat something, okay?"

Moore Enterprises had just launched a new project, and Magnus needed to oversee things.

"Go on. I'll be fine. It's just a few bruises, nothing serious," Morgan assured him, knowing how important his responsibilities were.

After Magnus left, Morgan decided to step outside and soak up some sunshine. The warmth on her skin lifted her spirits instantly.

Suddenly, a tap on her shoulder made her turn. A familiar face.

"Luke? Is that really you?"

Luke Collins looked just as surprised. "I didn't expect to see you here. I almost didn't recognize you from behind. You're still as tiny as ever—still not taking care of yourself, huh?"

"I thought you went abroad? What are you doing back?" she asked, remembering how he'd been the star of their fashion design program, two years ahead of her and a natural leader.

"Decided to chase some opportunities here. Nothing set in stone yet, but I'll let you know once things start moving."

Luke's voice was soft, his smile warm, making her feel instantly at ease. He'd been her idol back in college—the brilliant student who won a prestigious scholarship to study abroad and eventually became head designer for a major brand. She'd even seen him on the news when he bagged an Oscar for Best Design.

"I've always admired you," Morgan said, still in awe of his success. "What brings you to the hospital? You're okay, right?"

Luke tensed up, a flicker of worry crossing his face until he realized it was only injuries requiring a short hospital stay.

"What's your room number? I'll swing by during lunch," he offered.

Morgan gave it to him, figuring he was there to visit another patient.

When lunchtime rolled around, she was about to order when Luke showed up, thermos in hand. "You haven't ordered yet, have you?"

"I was about to," she said.

"No need. I brought something. I mentioned to my mom that a friend was in the hospital, and she insisted I bring extra. Try it."

As he popped open the container, the delicious smell made Morgan's eyes light up. "Your mom's cooking is unforgettable. I still remember how much I loved it when I visited your house," she said with a smile.

Watching her dig in with that much enthusiasm, Luke couldn't help but grin. "There's more for dinner. Mom's gonna be thrilled to hear what you think."

"Isn't it too much trouble? Cooking's no joke."

"She loves it. Coming home to empty dishes makes her day!"

"Please tell her thank you for me."

As they shared the meal, neither noticed they were being watched. Dariel Freeman stood nearby, a mischievous grin on his face. He'd come to the hospital for a meeting and decided to check in on Morgan. What a surprise to find her laughing it up with another guy.

Dariel discreetly snapped a photo, angling it just right to capture Luke's handsome face and Morgan's bright smile. He didn't rush to send it—first, he wanted a background check on Luke.

Soon enough, the report arrived, only deepening Dariel's amusement. Then he forwarded the photo and info to Magnus, with a cheeky note: "You'd better step up your game, or your wife might just run off with someone else!"

In the middle of his packed schedule, Magnus glanced at Dariel's message. His brow furrowed almost imperceptibly as he took in the photo and attached details.

Luke Collins shared Morgan's alma mater, major, and even her department club. He'd been the darling of the design department, studied abroad, and landed gigs at top international brands. Last year, he snagged an Oscar for Best Design as a head designer. And yet, here he was back in the country, leaving a promising career overseas.

Magnus studied Luke's gaze on Morgan—it was clearly full of tender, careful admiration.

Dariel called in a rush, afraid Magnus hadn't seen the message. But Magnus's voice was calm, betraying nothing.

"Did you see what I sent?"

"Yes."

"Then what are you doing just sitting there? Some guy's making a move on your wife!"

"Do you think a security guard who pulls in three grand a month can compete with a guy like that?"

"Uh…"

"If you were Morgan, who would you pick?" Magnus's voice held no bitterness, just resigned curiosity.

"Uh…" Dariel hesitated, completely thrown by the question.

If Dariel Freeman had been a woman completely in the dark about who Magnus Moore really was, she would have easily gone for someone like Luke Collins. Both in the same field, similar careers after graduation—clearly they'd share more interests and ambitions. From any angle, Magnus, the "security guard," was at a major disadvantage.

"So, you're just gonna let this slide? She's still your wife. That marriage gives you some leverage..." Dariel's attempt at advice was cut short.

"Thanks for the pointer. I'd better speed up the divorce. They can be together for all I care, but if Morgan cheats while we're still married, I won't let it go."

"Whoa, I wasn't talking about divorce! I meant you should fight for her—"

"I'm busy. Goodbye."

Magnus clearly had zero interest in Dariel's advice. He ended the call, took one last look at the photo, and powered off his phone.

As night fell over the city, Magnus arrived at the hospital, catching Luke Collins bringing dinner.

"Looks like I picked a bad time," Magnus said, his tone cool.

Morgan looked up, surprised. "You made it! Thought you'd be later. Everything squared away at work?"

Magnus nodded.

Luke glanced at Magnus and immediately asked, "Morgan, is he a friend of yours?"

"More than a friend," Magnus replied, sounding utterly unbothered.

It almost seemed like he wasn't even considered a friend anymore. Maybe he'd barged in on their date. Now divorce was urgent—couldn't risk any infidelity during the marriage. That would trash both his reputation and the Moore family name.

But just then, Morgan pulled Magnus over and flashed a warm smile. "This is my husband!"

Magnus: ...

Luke: ...

"Your husband? You... you're married?" Shock plastered all over Luke's face. Even Magnus was taken aback.

"Yes," Morgan answered cheerfully. "Let me introduce you. This is Luke Collins, my senior from college—two years ahead. He's crazy talented. They give his work to all the new students, and I have a copy too! Luke, this is my husband, Magnus Moore. We just tied the knot."

"And what does Mr. Moore do?" Luke inquired.

"He's a security guard."

"A security guard, huh... I just figured you'd end up with someone in the same field."

Luke's expression flickered. Not that he looked down on Magnus—it just felt like being a security guard was so... ordinary. Would they even have anything to talk about?

"I didn't expect you to get married so soon. I remember you once said you wouldn't even think about it until you were twenty-eight, so I thought..."

"You remembered that!" Morgan said, a little surprised. "Well, plans change."

"Now that Mr. Moore is here, I'll leave you two alone. I should get going."

Luke was momentarily flustered, but he quickly pulled himself together, flashed a polite smile, and left.

"Have you eaten yet? Perfect timing if you haven't. There's way too much food for just me," Morgan said, cracking open a thermos and pouring him a bowl of stew.

"You don't seem to have any problem with people knowing we're married."

"Why would I? It's the truth, right? In this digital age, whether it's your first marriage or your fifth, it's all easy to trace. Why hide it?"

Magnus listened, chewing on the logic of it. Made sense—why sneak around when Luke would eventually find out anyway? Better to just own it. Maybe this was her way of testing Luke. If he didn't care and still pursued her, she'd think about being with him for real. With that thought, Magnus shot Morgan a dark look. The Myers family really was a bunch of snakes.

...

Morgan spent another day in the hospital. Discharge day came, but Magnus was tied up and couldn't pick her up, so she caught a cab. She'd barely sunk onto the couch at home when a knock sounded at the door. Curious, she opened it—just a package sitting on the doorstep. No one in sight. "I didn't order anything. Maybe it's for Magnus?" She reached to bring it inside but froze. Her palm felt wet. She looked down and her heart nearly stopped. Blood. Bright red blood. The bottom of the box was already soaked through. What the hell was inside? Steeling herself, she held her breath and carefully picked the box back up. When she opened it, several dead rats greeted her, their blood seeping into a piece of paper. The note read: "Debts must be paid! Magnus Moore, if you don't cough up that $100,000, this is what's coming for you!"

Morgan's heart was in chaos as she read the words.

She was about to deal with it when Magnus appeared, his whole body tense, clearly already knowing something had happened.

"No one bothered you, did they?"

"No..."

"I'm not sure how they tracked you down, but don't worry. My debt won't drag you down. I've told them to leave you alone."

"How did you rack up so much debt? A hundred grand is insane!"

Morgan's voice cracked. She'd never seen that kind of money before. The Myers family might have, but she wasn't their biological daughter, and Rhonda had never wanted to spend a penny on her. Since high school, she'd scraped by, working every odd job she could find. Even now, with a decent position, she only brought in a thousand bucks a month.

"When my dad needed surgery, we were desperate and hit up loan sharks. I thought if I married Celeste Williamson, her family would cover it and I'd pay them back over time. But that blew up... I'm sorry I kept this from you. Maybe we should just get a divorce."

He threw the D-word out there so casually.

"And how are you supposed to handle that debt alone? How much do you have now?"

"Practically nothing. I'll figure it out, step by step. They won't actually kill me."

"Loan sharks are dangerous!"

"So, will you help me pay it off? See me through this?"

His question left her speechless.

Even if she wanted to, she had no money!

Her silence was what he expected. Magnus wasn't surprised or disappointed. "I'll be crashing in the employee dorms for a while. I've got things to take care of."

He left, taking the box with him, wiping the floor clean. If not for the faint coppery scent lingering in the air, she could've believed it was all a nightmare.

She stumbled back inside and collapsed onto the sofa, Magnus's cutting words echoing in her head. "So, will you help me pay off the debt and see me through?" His icy stare sent shivers through her.

But Magnus was her savior. If he hadn't shown up when he did, Jones would've violated her. She was the one who'd proposed marriage, not him. And the debt wasn't from some wild lifestyle—it was for his father's medical bills. That showed he was dutiful and responsible. Abandoning him now would make her less than human. He was cornered by loan sharks, all alone. What hope would he have?

The more Morgan thought about it, the more determined she became. She couldn't leave Magnus now.

She scrambled to borrow money, managing to scrape together ten grand from college friends. With her savings, that made fifteen thousand. Enough to hold off the sharks while she figured out the next move.

Determined, she went to Moore Enterprises, seeking out the security post.

"Excuse me, is Magnus Moore here?"