The next morning, Holly woke up in the guest bedroom. Her face was pale, but the stomach cramps had dulled to a heavy ache.

The door was shoved open. Eleanor walked in wearing a pristine tailored suit. She looked down at Holly.

Eleanor threw a conservative Chanel suit onto the bed. She ordered Holly to put it on and get ready to leave.

Holly sat up, her guard instantly up. She asked where they were going. Eleanor replied coldly that they were going to see the crippled woman who was shaming the Morris family.

Holly clenched her fists. She refused. She stated she wanted no part in their sick love triangle.

Eleanor took a step closer. She threatened that if Holly did not go and claim her territory as the legal wife, she would unleash the family lawyers to bury Holly in debt and leave her with nothing.

Crushed by the absolute power of their wealth, Holly gritted her teeth and put on the suffocating clothes.

She walked out to the front of the estate. A black stretch Lincoln limo was idling by the fountain.

Crawford stood by the open door. His face was dark and dangerous. It was obvious his mother had forced him into this too.

He looked at Holly's outfit. Annoyance flashed in his eyes. He roughly pushed her into the back seat.

The door slammed shut. The limo rolled away from the estate. Eleanor did not get in. She sent her trusted bodyguards in a trailing car instead.

The cabin was massive, but they sat on opposite ends. The air felt like concrete.

Crawford suddenly hit a button. The soundproof glass partition rolled up, sealing the back seat off from the driver.

The second the glass clicked shut, Crawford yanked his tie loose. He viciously attacked Holly for talking garbage at the dinner table last night.

Holly leaned back into the leather seat. She let out a cold laugh. She asked him what exactly he was so terrified his mother would find out.

Crawford's eyes shifted. He forced the topic away. He warned her to keep her mouth shut when they got to Delphine.

He stressed that Delphine suffered from severe depression and could not handle any stress.

Holly found it absolutely ridiculous. She fired back, asking if he expected her to pour tea for his precious true love.

Crawford lunged forward. He grabbed Holly's jaw. His eyes burned with a sick obsession.

He ground his teeth, his voice a low, dangerous hiss. "Delphine sacrificed everything for this family," he growled. "You have absolutely no right to judge a situation you know nothing about."

Holly froze. The sheer weight of his blind defense felt like a physical blow to her chest.

But the shock did not kill her anger. She slapped his hand away hard, her skin stinging from the impact. "You're just using our marriage as a convenient shield to hide your messy, pathetic past," she accused sharply.

Her sharp words pushed Crawford over the edge. He shoved her hard against the car window.

The scenery blurred past outside. Holly's back hit the cold glass. A muffled groan escaped her lips.

He leaned into her ear. His voice was heavy with control. He told her that as long as he said no, she would never strip off the title of Mrs. Morris.

Holly stared right back into his eyes. Her gaze was filled with pure disgust. She called him a pathetic coward.

Just as Crawford raised his hand again, the limo slammed on the brakes. The car jerked to a stop in front of the luxury rehab center.

The momentum threw them apart. Crawford quickly adjusted his suit. He smoothed his hair, turning back into the perfect billionaire.

The bodyguard opened the door. Blinding sunlight flooded the cabin. Crawford put on a fake, gentle mask.

He held his hand out to Holly. He ordered her to get out of the car in a whisper only she could hear. The show was starting.

Holly ignored Crawford's outstretched hand. She stepped out of the limo in her high heels, keeping her back straight.

Surrounded by bodyguards, they walked into the private rehab center. The place looked more like a five-star hotel than a hospital.

The elevator took them straight to the top floor. The head nurse respectfully pushed open a massive glass door. Inside was a sunlit conservatory filled with tropical plants.

Holly immediately spotted Delphine sitting in a wheelchair. She wore a pure white hospital gown, looking fragile and pitiful.

The second Crawford saw Delphine, the dark tension left his body. His steps naturally sped up.

He walked to the wheelchair and crouched down. His voice dropped to a gentle tone Holly had never heard before. He asked how she was feeling today.

Delphine offered a weak smile. Her eyes bypassed Crawford and locked dead onto Holly.

She covered her mouth in fake surprise. Her voice trembled as she said she didn't know Mrs. Morris was coming. She apologized for not being prepared to host.

Holly watched her cheap acting with cold eyes. She stood a few feet away. She replied coldly that she was just here to inspect the family's charity investments.

The words were a direct insult, calling Delphine a parasite living off the Morris money. Delphine's face stiffened instantly.

Crawford frowned hard. He stood up and blocked Delphine from view. He warned Holly to watch her mouth.

Delphine timed it perfectly. She grabbed the cuff of Crawford's shirt. Her eyes turned red. She whispered that she really was just a burden.

She suddenly started coughing violently. She gasped for air, looking like she was about to pass out.

Crawford panicked. He slammed the call button on the wall. He rubbed her back gently while glaring at Holly, blaming her for triggering the attack.

Holly watched the touching scene play out. Her stomach churned violently. The sight made her physically sick.

The medical team rushed in. They wheeled Delphine into the inner examination room. Crawford followed right behind them.

Holly stood alone in the middle of the conservatory. Surrounded by lush green plants, she looked like an unwanted outsider.

Ten minutes later, Crawford walked out of the inner room. He shut the door. His face was dark as he marched toward Holly.

He grabbed her wrist. He dragged her roughly into an empty lounge room next door.

He locked the door behind them. He shoved Holly against the solid wood door. He lowered his voice into a growl and asked if she was trying to kill Delphine.

Holly ripped her hand out of his grip. She mocked him. She told him if his heart hurt so much, he should submit the divorce papers to the court right now.

The word divorce lit a dark, uncontrollable fire in Crawford's eyes. He felt his absolute authority being fundamentally challenged.

He stared at Holly's stubborn, cold face. His gaze dropped from her defiant eyes to the slight tremble of her pale lips. The air between them thickened, suffocating and charged. He leaned in, his broad shadow entirely swallowing her smaller frame. The faint scent of her vanilla perfume clashed violently with the sterile hospital alcohol in the air. He suddenly dropped his head, his movement entirely devoid of hesitation. He crushed his lips against hers with brutal force.

There was absolutely zero warmth in the kiss. It was pure, unadulterated punishment and raw, terrifying possession. The impact forced a sharp gasp from her throat. It tasted like metallic blood, bitter anger, and a desperate need for control.

Holly's eyes widened in sheer panic before narrowing into pure fury. She fought back wildly. Her fists slammed into his solid chest, each strike fueled by years of pent-up resentment. But he anticipated her resistance. His large hand shot up, his fingers wrapping around both of her delicate wrists like an iron shackle, effortlessly pinning them against the solid wood above her head.

His other arm wrapped around her waist, crushing her body against his. He tried to force her to submit through sheer physical power.

Right then, the door handle rattled. A nurse's voice called out from the hallway, asking if Mr. Morris was in there.

Crawford froze, the authoritative voice from the hallway acting like a bucket of ice water. Reality crashed violently back into his brain, shattering the primal haze that had consumed him. He abruptly let go of Holly, taking a staggering step back, his chest heaving heavily as he tried to regain his composure.

Holly didn't hesitate for a microsecond. The moment her wrists were free, she channeled every ounce of her humiliation and rage into her right arm. She used the opening to strike. She swung her hand in a wide, vicious arc and slapped him across the face with everything she had. The sharp, explosive crack echoed loudly in the small, confined room, leaving a stinging vibration in her palm.

She watched the immediate aftermath, feeling no victory, only a deep, churning nausea. She aggressively wiped her bruised mouth with the back of her hand, trying to scrub away the lingering heat of his touch. She looked at his shocked profile as if he were nothing more than toxic trash. Her breathing was ragged, but her voice was deadly quiet when she spat out one final sentence. "You make me sick."

The sharp sound of the slap forced Crawford's head to the side. A red mark rapidly bloomed across his cheek.

The nurse kept knocking on the door outside. She called out that Miss Delphine needed him.

Crawford pushed his tongue against the inside of his bruised cheek. He stared at Holly with dark, dangerous eyes, but he held his temper.

He turned around. He adjusted his tie, took a deep breath, and opened the lounge door to step out.

Holly leaned against the back of the door. She waited for her breathing to slow down. She pulled a compact from her purse and fixed her ruined lipstick.

She pushed the door open and walked into the hallway. She saw Crawford just about to walk into Delphine's room.

The hospital room door was cracked open. Delphine was sitting up in bed, staring intensely through the gap at the hallway.

Holly caught Delphine's gaze instantly. At the exact same moment, the corner of her eye caught the wide-angle security camera mounted on the ceiling.

A dark idea flashed through Holly's mind. She walked fast toward Crawford, her heels clicking sharply on the floor.

Just as Crawford pushed the door to enter, Holly grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket from behind.

Crawford turned around in shock. Before his brain could process what was happening, Holly stood on her toes and pressed her lips against his.

It was a highly deceptive, heated kiss. Holly's hand deliberately slid up to stroke the back of his neck in a deeply intimate gesture.

Crawford's body went completely rigid. Then, pure instinct took over. His arms wrapped around her waist, trying to pull her closer and deepen the kiss.

Inside the room, Delphine watched the entire thing clearly. The glass water cup in her hand slipped. It hit the floor and shattered into pieces.

The sound of breaking glass reached the hallway. Holly's goal was achieved. She shoved Crawford away with all her strength, like touching a live wire.

Crawford stumbled back a step. His eyes were still clouded with a heavy, confused heat.

Holly wiped her lips with the back of her hand in absolute disgust. Right to his face, she delivered a cold review.

She looked dead into his eyes. She told him his kissing skills were garbage and the experience was terrible.

Crawford's face turned ash white. His male ego took a catastrophic hit.

He ground his teeth together. He demanded to know what the hell was wrong with her. She was the one who initiated it.

Holly smiled thinly. She used her chin to point at the half-open door and the camera on the ceiling.

She mocked him. She told him she was just doing her job, playing the loving wife for the cameras, and giving the audience a little free show.

Crawford followed her gaze. He saw the shattered glass on the floor and Delphine's pale, devastated face.

The realization hit him like a truck. Holly had used him as a cheap tool to torture his ex-lover. His blood boiled.

He pointed a shaking finger at Holly. He was so furious he couldn't form a single word. His chest heaved violently.

Holly ignored his rage. She turned gracefully and walked toward the elevators, her heels clicking in a steady rhythm.

She waved a hand over her shoulder. She reminded him not to forget to wire her PR fee for the day.

The elevator doors opened. Holly stepped inside. She looked at Crawford's furious face one last time and hit the close button.

The second the doors shut, Holly dropped the act. She leaned against the metal wall. A hollow sense of revenge mixed with exhaustion washed over her.

Crawford stood frozen in the hallway. He stared at the closed elevator doors. He suddenly kicked the heavy metal trash can next to him, sending it crashing against the wall.