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.

Winona Williams braced herself for rejection, steeling her heart for the possibility of being turned away. But, as luck would have it, a familiar face from an earlier encounter came to her rescue. The way the receptionist deferred to him, she pegged him as someone with serious pull.

Once inside the elevator, the man introduced himself. “Miss Williams, I’m Wade Cole, Mr. Morales’s assistant.”

“Call me Wade, Miss Williams. The pleasure’s all mine.” Winona had heard whispers about Zayden Morales’s right-hand man. Standing in the Morales Group headquarters for the first time, a wave of nerves washed over her. What on earth had possessed her to pitch such a ballsy plan?

But she was here now. No turning back. She had to push forward, come what may.

“Miss Williams, you’re here to discuss a partnership with Mr. Morales?”

“Yes! A major project I think Mr. Morales will find fascinating.” Wade glanced at her. She was here to talk a big deal, but all she carried was a flimsy folder. Was she really prepared for this?

Inside the office—all understated luxury—Winona walked forward with determined strides. At the massive desk, she could only see a high-backed executive chair and a well-defined hand, broad and long-fingered. Such an appealing hand stirred her curiosity about the man behind it.

She sucked in a breath, her heart hammering against her ribs as she swallowed and steadied herself. “Mr. Morales, hello. I’m Winona Williams. I’m here today to discuss a major partnership with you.”

Her words hung in the air. For a beat, the office fell silent.

“A major partnership?” A deep voice resonated. Winona’s brow furrowed. That voice—she knew it from somewhere.

“Miss Williams, you represent Horizon, just a design firm. What possible major partnership could you have with the Morales Group?”

“I’m here on my own behalf, hoping to discuss a significant proposal with you…” Her sentence died as the chair slowly swiveled around, revealing the man lounging in it, studying her with keen interest. That face, those eyes—how could she ever forget?

In her heels, she wobbled, stumbling back a few steps in shock, nearly toppling over.

Winona stood frozen, utterly stunned. The man from the Royal Hotel that night—sitting in the CEO’s chair at Morales Group.

“How is it you? Aren’t you… that…”

“Miss Williams, you don’t seem quite as eloquent today as you were the other night. Disappointed? The CEO of Morales Group is indeed the man you said had terrible kissing skills—nothing but a pretty face made for rich older women—a total scoundrel.”

Even from yards away, Winona could feel the fury radiating from his gaze, like he wanted to tear her apart.

Did he really have to be this pissed?

She gulped. God, what had she said that night? This was a total disaster. No wonder his assistant had brought her straight here—to settle the score.

Under his piercing stare, chills raced down her spine. But she couldn’t chicken out now. She was here, and she had to woman up.

Forcing a smile, she put on what she hoped was her most earnest expression. “Mr. Morales, the other night was a huge misunderstanding. We both got the wrong idea. We can clear this up—easy. I had no clue you were Mr. Morales. Someone as high-profile and mysterious as you? It’s totally understandable someone like me wouldn’t recognize you. Surely, you wouldn’t hold a grudge over a tiny misunderstanding from someone like me.”

“Oh, really?” Zayden tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, then rose and began walking slowly toward her.

Winona swallowed hard, too terrified to move. In broad daylight, everything felt sharper, and her anxiety spiked. She couldn’t lose it now—even face-to-face with him, she had to play it cool.

His cold voice loomed over her. “Miss Williams, before discussing partnerships, shouldn’t you understand who you’re dealing with? I, Zayden Morales, am known for holding grudges. I always pay my debts.”

“Well, um!” She looked up with a nervous laugh. “Surely, Mr. Morales wouldn’t sweat the small stuff, especially with a woman like me. Besides, I’m here to talk business today.”

“I won’t work with Horizon.” He cut her off before she could get any further, assuming she’d come on behalf of the company.

“Mr. Morales, there’s been a misunderstanding. I’ve come to discuss something a lot more important than the company.”

Zayden scrutinized her with a slight frown. The first time, at the hotel, this woman had hurled insults, calling him a scoundrel and a gigolo. The second time, drunk in a bar, she’d boldly declared she’d marry the most powerful man. What curious stunt had she come to pull now?

“Let’s hear it,” he finally said.

“I’m here to discuss Mr. Morales’s personal affairs!” Winona declared, and Zayden’s expression darkened as he studied her in silence.

“Do you have any idea what you’re saying?” he asked.

“Mr. Morales, in business, I never joke. I’m aware of some of the rumors about you. I also know your grandmother’s worried sick about your personal life. Her health isn’t what it used to be, and I’m sure you want to honor her wishes.”

Zayden chuckled low. “A few days ago, you were a designer. Today, you’re playing matchmaker? That’s the big proposal you’re bringing me? Women are lining up to join the Morales family.”

“I know full well you could snap your fingers and have a hundred women running. But women who can give you real peace of mind and have the backbone to marry into the Morales family are hard to come by.”

“And what makes you so sure there aren’t any?”

“If there were, Mr. Morales, you’d be married by now. You wouldn’t let your grandmother’s heart ache like this.”

“You do know quite a bit.”

“Well, Mr. Morales, when you’re doing business, you’ve got to do your homework. You can rest easy about my capabilities.” Zayden stayed silent, genuinely curious about what she’d throw out next.

“Society women are drawn to your wealth, your power, your looks, your body—but they’re spooked by the rumors.”

“And?”

“So, Mr. Morales, what do you think about me? Maybe, Mr. Morales, you should consider marrying me.” It took every ounce of courage Winona had to get those words out. In front of Zayden, even if she wasn’t truly calm, she had to fake it, showing zero weakness.

Her bold declaration caught Zayden off guard. He remembered her drunken boast from the bar.

“Why should I marry you? Are you going to tell me it’s true love—love at first sight?”

“Of course not!” Winona shot his assumption down fast. “Mr. Morales, you’re undeniably the handsomest man around, but I don’t buy into love at first sight. What I want you to know is that I’m different from all the rest. I value everything about you—your power, your status, and, yeah, the person you are.”

It was the first time Zayden had ever heard a woman spin it that way. Was there really a difference between the two?

“Enough talking. Mr. Morales, once you see this, you’ll understand what I’m getting at.” She placed her prepared document in front of him, surprising him yet again.

To think a woman would treat her own personal affairs like a business deal and discuss it so openly was a total novelty to him.