The room hung heavy with a tense, smothering silence. Dennis Williams felt the weight of those damning photos, his mind flashing back to Winona coming home looking all disheveled—now he knew it was from a hotel. If the Castro family weren't sitting right there, he would've ripped into her for behavior he found straight-up shameful.

Jaiden Castro's father, George Castro, studied the photos for what felt like an eternity before his eyes finally locked onto Winona. "Winona, is that really you in those pictures? I want the truth."

Winona met his gaze head-on. She'd already guessed exactly how this little gathering would play out. "Yes, it's me." She saw the disappointment flicker across his face, and a bitter smile tugged at her lips. Of course. No one here had any intention of hearing her side.

Not that it mattered. In their eyes, she was already branded. No self-respect, right?

"George, since Miss Williams has admitted it, there's really nothing left to discuss," Mrs. Castro cut in, shifting the spotlight with practiced ease. "I know you respect old ties, and our family always honors our word. Dennis, you do have another daughter. Elia would make such a perfect match."

The realization hit Winona like a bucket of ice water. Now she saw it—this whole thing was a mother-daughter setup, all triggered by her stupidly timed visit to the Royal Hotel. She didn't need to guess who leaked those photos.

Her heart turned to ice, but her father's eager voice sliced right through it: "If that's how it is, I have no objections. It all comes down to how the kids feel, after all."

Elia Williams blushed, her voice dripping honey. "I think we should get to know each other first, but I really do like Mrs. Castro. She's just wonderful."

"Isn't she just the sweetest? I knew from the start we clicked. She actually helped me dodge a scam once!" Mrs. Castro beamed, practically glowing.

Hearing they'd already met just sealed Winona's isolation. Her fists balled so tight her knuckles went white, but she kept a polite smile plastered on her face. Jaiden's gaze kept wandering to Elia, and Winona got the message loud and clear.

"Well, it seems everyone's pretty happy with how things are going. Aunt Castro, Dad, Elia, Mr. Castro—have you all made your decision?" Winona's voice came out steady, almost too calm.

Mrs. Castro sneered, "Isn't it obvious? We're not about to let Jaiden marry someone with a reputation like yours. Who knows what you've been up to, dragging our family name through the mud."

"Since you've all decided, I'll share my decision too." Winona's words cut through the tension like a blade.

"Your decision?" Jaiden asked, a flicker of curiosity breaking through his cool demeanor. Her face held that mix of defiance and pride, but it didn't move him. He preferred women like Elia—soft, sweet, agreeable.

Seraphina Cruz watched from the sidelines, smug as hell, thinking Winona's collected act was just for show.

"Oh yes. I, Winona Williams, am officially calling off the engagement my mother arranged with Mr. Castro. Consider it annulled, as of today."

The three women at the table let out harsh, mocking laughs.

"What choice do you even have?" Mrs. Castro scoffed, all warmth gone from her voice. "At least you're smart enough to realize you're nowhere near good enough for our Jaiden."

Her sharp words matched her angular features and those intense, hawk-like eyes.

Winona didn't even flinch. She went on, "The engagement's off, but let me make one thing crystal clear, George Castro: it's me, Winona Williams, who doesn't want your son, Jaiden Castro. Got it?"

Jaiden stared at her like she'd just told the world's dumbest joke. Him? Turned down? He was a Castro, for crying out loud. The idea was laughable.

Winona calmly poured herself a cup of coffee. "Mrs. Castro, your son is the one who's not worthy of marrying me."

She knocked back the whole cup in one go, leaving everyone stunned. The audacity.

Jaiden, a man who commanded respect wherever he went, had never been spoken to like that by any woman. To him, Winona was nobody. He was almost curious how she thought she was going to pull this off.

"Fine! Just don't come crawling back later, crying and regretting what you said today."

Winona shot him a defiant smile. "Don't hold your breath. That day's never coming. Goodbye."

She'd stopped hoping for love a long time ago. All she wanted was a marriage that wouldn't bury her deeper in misery.

The Castro family's outright contempt made it painfully clear: they wanted out of this engagement from the jump. Mrs. Castro already had her speech rehearsed. Winona saw no point in sticking around for more humiliation.

She sucked in a deep breath as she stepped out of the restaurant, the cold hitting her like a slap. With nowhere to go, her mind immediately went to her one real friend—Briana Fernandez.

The moment Briana got her call, she dropped everything and came running, pulling Winona into a hug without asking a single question.

"What's there to worry about? You've got me!" Briana had been by her side all through university. She knew every battle Winona had fought.

Words weren't needed between them—one look was enough.

Inside the buzzing pub, Winona downed drink after drink for the first time in her life, spilling the whole mess to Briana.

Briana waved it off like it was nothing. "So what if they're the Castro family? They're not exactly top dogs in New York City. Who does Jaiden think he is, anyway? With your looks, you could land someone ten times better. Tell Jaiden to hit the road!"

Clinking glasses, Winona managed a shaky smile, a new fire sparking inside her. "You're damn right! If I'm gonna marry, it's gonna be the most powerful man in New York City. They can all go to hell!"

In a rare moment of total abandon, Winona drank until she could barely stand.

"Sweetie, I'm just hitting the restroom real quick. Stay put, okay? Don't go wandering off."

Winona waved her off lazily. Too wasted to register anything, one thought hammered in her head—she was gonna marry the most powerful man.

Staggering, she grabbed onto someone's hand to steady herself.

Zayden Morales, hanging with his buddies at the bar, was just about to dip out early when some girl suddenly latched onto his hand. He was about to snap, but then he clocked that familiar face—tipsy as hell, but definitely familiar.

Her again.

Winona didn't recognize him. Her unfocused eyes roamed over his face, then she broke into a loopy grin. "You're not Briana! But... have we met somewhere before?"

Zayden frowned. First a hotel, now a bar, totally wasted—this woman's life was a whole soap opera.

Seeing him stay silent, she giggled and leaned in conspiratorially. "No, I don't know you. But you're hot, so I'm gonna let you in on a secret."

She threw her arms out wide and announced, "I, Winona Williams, swear today to marry the most powerful man in all of New York City. You hear me? The most powerful man!"

Zayden couldn't stop the smirk curling his lips. Was she... drunk and ranting? Or was she talking about him as the most powerful man?

Was this some kind of act?

Before he could get a word out, Briana rushed over and tugged Winona away. Good-looking as he was, Zayden's whole intense aura set Briana on edge.

She shot him a quick apology. "Sorry about that, handsome! My friend's just really upset and went overboard. Please just ignore her." With that, Briana steered Winona out the door fast.

As Zayden watched them go, he could still hear Winona slurring, "Briana! I'll marry... I'll marry the most powerful man..."

Winona’s drunken words from the night before had been brushed off by her friend Briana as nothing more than stress talking. By morning, the whole thing was water under the bridge—at least in Briana’s mind. But Elia Williams had been emboldened by the chaos she’d stirred up. Now, she grabbed every chance to cut Winona down.

“Weren’t you just the bold one yesterday? I almost thought you’d be too chicken to show your face here today. I’ve been dying to see just how capable you think you are! Winona Williams, someone like you was born to live under my thumb. That’s just the way it is, and you’d better get used to it.”

Once the meeting ended, as if on cue, Winona was left alone with Elia, forced to endure her icy sneers. She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms, while Elia tore apart the proposal she’d spent hours on, calling it garbage.

“Blowing the Morales deal has consequences. Don’t come crawling to me; you screwed it up all on your own. You’ve pissed them off, and that’s bad for business. So go figure out how to pay for that woman’s hospital bills yourself.”

“That’s not your call! You’re not the head of the Williams family,” Winona shot back.

Elia let out a light laugh, flicking her gaze down to her perfect manicure, then back to Winona with a dismissive sneer. “The Castro family doesn’t want anything to do with you. What are you even good for? Do you think Dad gives a damn about you? He listens to me. And that woman... why does she even bother breathing? She’d be better off dead.”

Winona shot her sister a glare, swallowing her rage for her mother’s sake. Elia flung the documents straight at Winona’s face, the papers smacking her skin.

“Your so-called talents are worthless to me. Skills? Who cares? You’re nothing but an employee. I don’t need to know a damn thing you know—I’m going to be Mrs. Castro soon, way above everyone, especially you. That’s the difference between us. If you can’t lock down the Morales deal, forget about your mother and any place in this family. Get out!”

Elia had dreamed of this moment for years—humiliating Winona, grinding her beneath her heel. She’d never forgotten the bitter sting of being mocked as the bastard child, her entire life cast in shadow by Winona’s existence. From the day she was brought into the Williams family, she’d sworn to strip Winona of everything, to keep her crushed underfoot forever. Her mother had drilled into her: show mercy and you’ll get trampled. The ends always justified the means. And now, the proof was clear: she was the one on top.

Winona stayed quiet, collecting the papers from the floor one by one, her movements deliberate. She shot Elia a frosty look, the corner of her mouth twitching into a smirk. “I never knew picking up my scraps could make you so happy.”

She straightened, showing no sign of bowing or backing down. If Elia thought this was worth crowing about, she could have it. Winona didn’t care.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Elia snapped, shooting up from her chair, her anger twisting the flawless lines of her makeup.

“You don’t get it? Let me make it simple: how’s a crow supposed to understand the flight of an eagle?”

Winona didn’t lower herself to trading insults. She was practical. Getting into it with someone as petty as Elia would only drag her down to that sewer. Sometimes the best answer was silence.

Elia’s furious punch hit nothing but air, leaving her seething with frustration. Winona pushed up her plain black glasses and turned to leave, her exit poised. Elia, refusing to let it end like this, trailed after her, but with the whole office watching, she had to rein in her temper, plastering on a smile as fake as it was polished, her long nails digging crescents into her palms.

Winona always wore a mask of indifference, never letting others see her crack. Even though she’d held her own this time, she knew Elia wasn’t bluffing. If she got to their father first, he’d likely take his anger out on their mother. Winona had to move fast.

She quickly organized her files and headed straight for her father’s office. This couldn’t wait. The secretary rose, announced her, then let her in. Winona stepped inside to find Dennis buried in a stack of papers, his brows furrowed. Had she picked the worst possible time? But then, it didn’t matter. Good mood or bad, the result would be the same.

“Mr. Williams, I need a word about something important,” she said, all business. Normally, Dennis would grunt a reply, but today was different.

“Winona, to what do I owe the pleasure? No need to be so stiff—we’re family. Have a seat.”

The unexpected warmth put Winona on guard. She knew him too well; if he wasn’t plotting something, he wouldn’t be playing nice. Winona kept her polite mask on, taking a seat. The secretary brought coffee and closed the door behind her.

“So, what can I do for you, Winona?”

“The hospital’s been hounding me for payments. And there are advanced treatments in Europe. I talked to a specialist—there could be a real chance for Mom if we send her overseas. I want you to consider it.”

Dennis chuckled. “That’s all? Just medical bills. No problem. I’ll have my secretary wire the money. Sending her abroad? Doable. These things are trivial.”

Winona’s chest tightened. Normally, he’d dodge or stall, crying poor. His easy agreement now? Suspicious. Something was off, but she bit her tongue.

Silence settled between them. Then, “Winona, I know you’re capable. About the dinner last night—I may have been too quick to judge. I shouldn’t interfere in young people’s business, and I’m not going to blame you regardless. As for your sister and the Castros, well, they prefer her. Not much I can do about that.”

“I get where you’re coming from, Dad. Some things just aren’t meant to be. I made that clear yesterday, didn’t I?”

He gave an awkward laugh. “Since your sister’s got her situation settled, I figured I should step up as a father so nobody thinks I’m ignoring my eldest. Your stepmother and I talked it over and we’ve found you a great match. The prospect is very taken with you, and they’re wealthy. You’d live comfortably.”

Winona almost laughed out loud. A golden opportunity, just dropped in her lap? Right.

“I appreciate your concern, Dad.”

“Don’t mention it! Mr. Brooks has his eye on you. His son’s thirty, just a few years older—a perfect fit. The Brooks family is just the two of them. Marry in, and you’d be the lady of the house. A spot most only dream of.”

Winona’s smile froze. Just as she’d guessed. The Brooks family had money and a solid business, but everyone knew Mr. Brooks’s son had incurable congenital disabilities.

Dennis Williams had seemingly finished his discussion with Mr. Brooks. He chuckled, his tone laced with something that made Winona's skin crawl. "Winona, this is for your own good! Sure, Mr. Brooks's son has his... challenges, but once you're married, you'll be running the show. And Mr. Brooks is quite taken with you, you know."

Winona's face fell. Her voice came out flat, breaking. "Dad, you can't be serious." Marry a disabled man and play nursemaid to his father? Is this really what her own father had planned for her?

"Winona, you're a smart girl. Some things don't need to be spelled out. There are a ton of girls who'd kill for a chance to marry into the Brooks family, and yet Mr. Brooks chose you."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. She shot to her feet, a blade twisting deep in her gut. "What am I to you, Dad? I'm your daughter!" It was unthinkable—any father orchestrating this kind of future for his own child. She was only just beginning to grasp how ruthless he could be.

"Winona, I've laid it out for you. The Brooks proposal is a golden ticket. As a Williams, strategic marriages are everything. If our business tanks, your sister's going to have a rough time when she marries into the Castro family."

Then it clicked. It was all for Elia. Even though Elia wasn't his flesh and blood, Dennis treated Winona like the outsider. In that moment, whatever hope she'd held onto—for her father's love, his approval—crumbled to ash. This was the man her mother had loved so desperately.

She drew a shaky breath. "And what if I refuse?"

"Winona, Mr. Brooks has promised full backing for our company after you marry. I've weighed every angle, and you don't get a say in this. You're my daughter. Don't make me sever our ties over this. I've set up a meeting for you with Mr. Brooks this weekend. You'll start building a rapport."

Seeing the resistance written all over her face, Dennis' voice hardened. "I raised you. And your mother's medical bills? They're way beyond what you can handle. It doesn't matter how talented you think you are—her health can't wait. You've got three days to chew on it. But let's be clear: there's no other way."

Facing her father's icy stare, Winona forced a bitter smile and walked out of the office without another word.

That was it. She knew she could never go back to work there. No matter how hard she busted her ass, staying at Horizon meant being undervalued and crushed into the ground. Her father didn't see her as a daughter. She was just a commodity to be traded.

This was her life.

She hailed a cab, her mind fixed on one place: her mother. She needed to be held, even if just for a fleeting second of warmth.

The moment she saw her mother, Winona shattered. She wrapped her arms around her, sobs wracking her body. "Mom, I can't do this much longer."

Her only answer was her mother's vacant gaze, staring out the window as sunlight painted a gentle glow over them both. For that brief, quiet moment, she wished time would freeze. But reality was a cold slap. The attending doctor broke the news—her mom's medical bills couldn't be put off any longer. Monday was the deadline.

"Your mother needs a higher level of care. There's still a chance," Dr. Nichols said gently.

"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Nichols."

Staring at her mother, who understood nothing of this cruel world, Winona thought maybe that was a blessing in disguise.

She spent a sleepless night at the hospital, keeping vigil. As the city sank into darkness, her father's words played on a loop in her head—her options were nonexistent. But she wasn't about to roll over. Could she really just give in? She'd never dreamed of some fairy-tale life full of love, but damn it, she at least wanted her remaining days free of shadows and despair. She still had dreams, ones she wasn't ready to bury.

A memory flickered—something she'd blurted out once, a little drunk: if she was ever getting married, it would be to the most powerful man alive.

A crazy, borderline insane idea sparked in her mind. If she was cornered, she'd roll the dice and carve out her own damn path.

Her thoughts landed on a man—the most powerful in all of New York City. Who else but Zayden Morales, the head of the Morales Group?

But she hesitated. He was a mystery, his real face hidden from the public eye. He barely showed up at events, and not a single clear photo of him existed online. Yet the rumors were wild—superstitious types claimed any woman he married was cursed.

She remembered Briana's stories about his tragic past: his childhood sweetheart's entire family dying right before their engagement, cementing his ominous rep.

Winona wasn't one to buy into ghost stories, but she knew the elite kept their distance because of those whispers—and his supposedly strange nature.

But should she take the leap?

As dawn broke and her mother slept soundly, Winona made her choice. If she had to pick between marrying into the Brooks cesspool or aligning herself with someone of untouchable power, she'd grab power with both hands. The outcome would screw her over either way. As long as her mother got better, nothing else mattered.

After tucking her mother in, she headed back to the Williams house. Empty. She crashed in her room, sleeping hard, then woke and dressed simply—hair tied back, slipping on her black-rimmed glasses. She had a plan and a destination: a meeting with Zayden Morales.

The towering skyscraper that housed the Morales Group was an icon of New York City's skyline. She approached the front desk, spinning a story about representing Horizon and demanding to see him.

As chance would have it, Zayden was just returning from an inspection when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette. His assistant, Wade Cole, recognized her too—the woman who had waltzed into Zayden's hotel room that unforgettable night.

One glance from Zayden sent Wade over to Winona.

She whirled around, catching Zayden disappearing into a private elevator. Her eyes locked onto Wade—she remembered him from the Royal Hotel.

"Hello!" she greeted, her voice too bright, not sure how to even bring up that night.

"Miss Williams, you're here to see Mr. Morales. Follow me," Wade said, gesturing ahead.