CHAPTER 7

That night, after the words she overheard from Joseph's study, Lisa lay stiff on her bed, the coat still abandoned on the chair. Sleep wouldn't come – only the echo of his voice, sharp as glass.

Keep an eye on Lauren.

He's still in love with her. My stepmother.

Her throat tightened but no tears fell. She had wasted enough on a man whose heart was never hers.

Slowly, she sat up, her green eyes hardening in the dim glow of the lamp. "No more", she whispered into the silence. If Joseph Bronson wanted to chain himself to the ghost of Lauren, let him.

She had her own war to fight. Her father's company, her name, her worth – they would use her strength, whether they liked it or not.

Lisa lay back down, the decision burning steadily in her chest. Tomorrow, she wouldn't think of Joseph.

Tomorrow, she would begin again.

Reaching for her phone she made a single phone call. Her voice was steady, stripped of hesitation.

"There should be a board meeting tomorrow. Email me the necessary paperwork before dawn".

The next morning, her phone chimed.

------

Morning light spilled across the mansion's hallways. Lisa descended the stairs just as Joseph strode from the opposite wing.

For a heartbeat, their eyes brushed – neither spoke.

They passed each other like strangers.

Outside, as her driver opened the car door, Lisa's chest tightened. She wanted – just for a second – to call his name, to ask why he had shielded her the night before, why he had crushed her with words after.

But the thought was foolish. She drew in a sharp breath, forcing it down, and slid into the car.

Inside his office, Joseph loosened his tie, phone pressed to his ear. His voice was low, controlled.

"Adjust the camera to the right".

On the screen before him, Lisa appeared in perfect clarity.

The hidden camera he had ordered to be put in her car caught her well–defined face, the curve of her cupid's bow lips – lips he had always wanted to devour.

He leaned back in his chair, gaze unreadable, watching her as if she were both his possession and his enemy.

*****

Hours later, walking into the Morgan Enterprises, the air turned heavy. Whispers slithered through the corridors.

"Daddy's spoiled brat".

"She ran from responsibility".

"Even changed her identity to hide".

Lisa kept stride steady, though every word burned. Just as she neared the boardroom, a slip of paper brushed into her palm from an unseen hand.

They're planning to humiliate you today.

Her heart clenched. Moments later, her phone buzzed – another email with the final set of "necessary documents".

The present.....

The boardroom was already hostile before Lisa even reached the head of the table. Questions fired from every corner, sharp and mocking.

"Where have you been all these years?"

"What qualifies you to stand here?"

"Didn't you run away from this company once already?"

Their laughter was low, bitter, cutting at her fragile calm. Lisa's fingers tightened around her notes, her rehearsed opening vanishing from her mind.

For a moment, the whispers outside the corridor came roaring back – spoiled...unfit....just a pretty face.

Heat prickled her skin, doubt clawing at her chest.

And then the air shifted.

The door opened and Joseph Bronson walked in, tall and commanding. His gaze swept the room like a blade settling on her.

"Allow my wife to get on with her presentation will you?" his voice was calm but laced with steel.

Silence.

The mocking faces froze. One by one, the board members dropped their eyes.

Lisa inhaled slowly, steadied by the silence he left in his wake. For the first time since entering, the room was hers.

In the meeting, the trap was laid: a senior executive's proposal, backed by the papers she had been sent. All eyes waited for her to fail.

Lisa's pulse hammered, torn between the neat reports on her phone....and the warning from the stranger.

Silence stretched. Then she slid the emailed reports aside and lifted the stranger's documents.

Calmly, methodically she tore into the executive's proposal line by line, exposing the flaws hidden beneath the polished figures.

The room shifted. Some board members leaned forward in awe: others smirked fading into stunned silence.

She had chosen correctly – on instinct.

And from the shadows at the back, Lauren watched her with an expression no one could read.

The silence that followed Lisa's presentation was almost deafening. The smirks had faded, replaced by a grudging respect that hung heavy in the air.

Then the voice rose from the far end of the table.

Smooth, commanding. A man leaned forward, one of the most feared business strategists in the country, known for dismantling opponents with a single sentence.

"Impressive numbers, Miss Morgan...

"It's Mrs. Bronson", Joseph corrected him swiftly.

"My apologies but tell me – what makes you think we'd hand you this company? Because of your last name? Or because you're married into the Bronsons?"

Murmurs rippled through the boardroom. The challenge struck like a whip.

Lisa's jaw tightened. She met his stare head–on.

"Neither", she replied, her voice steady as steel.

"You'll hand me this company because I'm the only one who can keep it alive. I don't need my father's shadow, and I don't need Joseph Bronson's name. All I need are the numbers you've just seen – and the fact that none of you could argue them".

The room went silent again. Even the guru's lips pressed into a thin line, no comeback ready.

For once, the board bowed their heads – not to her family name but to her.

*****

Outside, the night air hit her like freedom. Lisa clutched her files to her chest as she walked toward her car, her heels echoing against the pavement. She let out a shaky breath, part relief, part adrenaline.

This time she did not shy away from the cameras, she stood firm with confidence.

In the car, she sat reminiscing about the board meeting, a smile curved on her lips. Suddenly, her phone buzzed.

She pulled it out expecting a congratulatory message from her dad. Instead, an unknown number flashed on the screen.

"Bold words today. But don't fool yourself – this company won't be the only battlefield. Watch your back, Lisa Bronson".

Her breath caught. She glanced around for any suspicious vehicles trailing her. Shadows stretched long in the dim lights.

Her victory tasted hollow, more like a trap tightening around her.

CHAPTER 8

The next morning, breakfast was quiet – forks clinking, no words spoken. Lisa pushed back her chair, ready to leave for work. Just as she passed him, Joseph's hand shot out, firm around her wrist.

"It's too short, go change", he said in that commanding tone that left no room for debate. His gaze swept over her dress like a verdict.

Her breath hitched, her body betraying her with a rush of heat she despised. She hated how authoritative he was – hated even more how it made her pulse quicken.

She tore her hand free and walked out without a word.

****

The car barely pulled up to the company gates when her phone buzzed. A new message from the same unknown number

"Enjoy the headlines. It's only the beginning".

Her chest tightened.

Stepping inside the building, she left it instantly – eyes on her, whispers trailing in her wake.

Employees didn't even try to hide their smirks.

Some clutched folded tabloids; others scrolled their phones, shaking their heads as though the proof of her shame was plastered everywhere.

Lisa lifted her chin higher, refusing to let them see the sting. But with every mocking glance, she knew – someone was orchestrating her downfall, and the attack had only begun.

Her secretary hurried up face pale, clutching a bundle of tabloids. "Mrs. Bronson...you should see this".

She took them, her fingers tightening as her eyes caught the bold headline:

"Heiress on the Run: From Hidden Identity to Sham Marriage".

Her chest squeezed, the words cutting deeper than she wanted to admit. Photos filled the pages – grainy shots of her shielding herself under Joseph's coat, twisted into proof of weakness.

For a heartbeat, her vision blurred, betrayal and humiliation burning through her veins.

Then she drew a sharp breath straightening, snapping the paper shut. She handed it back to the secretary, her face a mask of calm set.

They want to see me broken", Mrs. Bronson said, her voice quiet but firm.

Lisa stopped, heels slicing against the marble, and turned slowly to face the cluster of employees watching her like scavengers.

Her eyes were cold, her voice firm enough to cut through the air.

"If you want to keep your jobs, you'll remember one thing – this company carries my name. Mock me again, and I'll make sure you're packing boxes by morning".

The smirks vanished. A hush fell, the weight of her authority crashing down.

She let the silence linger, her gaze sweeping over each face until they dropped their eyes.

Then, with her chin high, she strode forward, the tabloids tucked under her arm like they'd never mattered.

In her office....

Lisa's pen scratched furiously across the documents, her desk littered with reports. She barely looked up when the office door clicked open.

"I'll admit", her father's voice carried a quiet weight, "I didn't think you'd actually take up the mantle".

Lisa froze, her hand tightening around the pen. "You mean....you thought I'd fail before I even started?"

Mr. Morgan stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over the organized chaos of her work.

"I gave you those conditions not to punish you, but to test you. To see if you were truly ready. And I'll confess – I thought you'd walk away, just like before".

Her chest tightened, "But I didn't".

"No". a smile flickered across his lips, pride softening his features. "You came back stronger. You're proving me wrong with every step you take. And Lisa.... I couldn't be more prouder of that".

It was her first time hearing her father say such words, and it sent a warmth through her heart that no victory in the boardroom ever could.

Then his tone shifted, firm but tender.

"Remember this, Lisa – strength attracts enemies. And when the weight feels too heavy, lean on your husband. And if you ever need me, you just need to call.

With this, he left.

She nodded faintly at her father's words, but inside, her chest tightened. Lean on my husband? How could she, when every sign pointed to him still being tangled with her stepmother?

The confession pressed against her lips – she wanted to tell her father, to spill the suspicion clawing at her heart. But something held her back.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe fear. Maybe the part of her that still didn't want to believe it was true.

She knew what their marriage was – a contract, nothing more. He had nothing for her, not truly.

And yet...against her own will, she craved it. His care. His attention. The kind of protection he gave so easily in public, but never in the quiet moments meant just for them.

That unspoken longing gnawed at her, and as her father left the office, Lisa was left alone with the silence – caught between truth and the dangerous hope she refused to admit.

Mrs. Bronson", the voice broke the silence, almost breathless, "thank you for approving the Thompson project. The team's morale has completely lifted".

A genuine smile tugged at Lisa's lips. "You all worked hard for it. Just make sure the deadlines are met – I don't want the effort wasted".

The young assistant nodded, eyes shining. "We'll make you proud".

Lisa chuckled softly, a rare moment of peace washing over her. For a brief second, she allowed herself to feel like she belonged here – not just as the only heiress to her father's company or Mrs. Bronson but as someone making a difference.

She straightened, smoothing her blazer and starting toward the lobby, unaware that outside, chaos was already waiting to greet her.

The lobby froze when the journalist broke through security, recorder already raised. His voice rang out, sharp and eager.

"Mrs. Bronson! Care to explain why you lived under a hidden identity for years?"

Lisa's steps faltered.

The journalist pressed on, relentless. "Were you running from responsibility? Did Joseph Bronson know he wasn't the first to hold your ring?" the journalist sneered. "Or is this another secret you planned to bury forever?

Every accusation pressed on her chest like iron. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but no words came.

"Did you cheat on your ex-husband? What ended the marriage?"

Joseph Bronson strode into the lobby, each step radiating power that made the crows recoil. His eyes pinned the journalist with a chill that froze him in place.

"Mention her name with filth again", Joseph said, his tone steady and merciless, "and I'll erase your career so completely you'll beg to vanish like the past you're chasing".

The journalist shrank back, silenced. But before relief could settle, slow, deliberate clapping echoed from the far end of the lobby.

Dane Carter.

He stepped forward, smile curving his lips, his gaze fixed on Lisa, "Still as dramatic as ever, darling. Hiding behind a stronger man suits you".

Lisa's blood ran cold.

In a flash, Joseph's hand fisted Dane's shirt, dragging him close, their faces inches apart. His voice dropped to a deadly whisper that carried through the silent lobby.

"Try that again", Joseph warned, eyes burning, "and I'll bury you".

CHAPTER 9

The moment Joseph's grip left his shirt, Dane's bravado cracked. He masked it in front of the crowd, but tremors coursed through his hands once the lobby cleared.

Hours later, at the dimly lit bar he frequented, glass after glass lined his table. His mind spun – not from the alcohol, but from the revelation gnawing at him. Lisa. An heiress. His Lisa.

"How the hell didn't I see it sooner?" he muttered, bitterness sharp in his throat. If he'd known and realized what kind of empire she carried in her blood, he would've treated her differently. Not like the disposable woman he discarded – but like the golden ticket she truly was.

Resentment flared, dark and consuming. If he couldn't have her, then ruining her would taste just as sweet. Revenge filled his eyes like fire.

Memories clawed their way back – the secretary he'd taken to bed, her tearful pleas, her swelling belly. For months, he had believed the child was his, bending over backwards to keep her close. Only to discover the truth: the baby wasn't his at all. She had been scheming with her real husband, pretending to belong to him while bleeding his wallet dry.

The humiliation still burned. The betrayal had carved him hollow. And now, staring into the amber swirl of his drink, a cruel smile curved his lips.

Lisa had become his new obsession.

And this time, he wouldn't be the fool.

Just then, his phone chimed on the counter. A single message lit up the screen.

"Do you want to play some games with your ex-wife?"

Dane's lips curved into a dangerous grin.

Revenge had just found its spark.

******

Back at the mansion, silence stretched between them like a blade. The air was too thick, too heavy – choking Lisa with unspoken words until she could no longer hold them in.

She flung her clutch onto the marble table, the sharp sound echoing. Her green eyes blazed as she spun toward him.

"Do you enjoy it?" she snapped. "Do you enjoy parading me in front of everyone like some weak little doll who needs her powerful husband to swoop in and save her? Because that's exactly what you do, Joseph. Every single time. You don't protect me – you humiliate me".

Joseph's dark eyes flicked to hers, cool and unreadable. "I protect my name", he said, voice clipped, precise. "Don't confuse that with charity".

Her breath caught, but rage only grew hotter.

She paced the length of the hall, words tumbling out sharp and fast.

"And what about me? What about how it makes me look? People think I can't fight for myself, that I'm nothing more than a spoiled brat. Do you know how hard I've worked to prove otherwise? But one move from you and it's all undone – I'm back to being the weak one".

He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, his presence swallowing the space between them. "You think they see weakness?' His tone was low, almost dangerous. "No Lisa. They see a Bronson. And a Bronson is never weak".

Her chest rose and fell flat, fury crashing against confusion "That's not strength – that's control. You control everything, everyone, like we're all just pawns in your hands. I didn't marry you to be your shadow, Joseph. I won't"

His composure shifted for the first time, his jaw tightening. He leaned down, close enough that his words struck like a blade.

"You want to survive in this world? Then learn the difference between pride and survival. Pride will get you eaten alive"

Lisa's lips parted, her fury warring with something else, something she refused to name. Because the truth was, for a split second out there, when he shielded her, when he threatened Dane, she hadn't felt humiliated. She had felt...safe. And that terrified her more than his control.

"Stop mistaking my protection for weakness, Lisa. Enemies are watching. The day you forget that will be the day you break". Then he turned from her, his voice clipped.

"Have the car made ready", he ordered.

Lisa's eyes flickered with concern, her anger wavering into something sharper, colder – fear. Her voice trembled despite herself.

"Where are you going, Joseph?"

He paused only long enough for his rage to lace the single word. "Out"

The sound of his footsteps echoed through the hall, leaving Lisa standing alone, torn between fury and the unspoken dread that whatever he was walking into – it wouldn't end clean.

********

Hours later, Lisa refused to touch dinner without him. She paced the room like a caged animal, her chest tight, anger simmering with something more dangerous beneath it.

The lock clicked. Joseph entered, his presence heavy, eyes dark as sin. He reeked of alcohol – and female perfume.

Her pulse spiked. "Where are you coming from?"

"Does it matter?" his tone was cold steel.

It cut through her like a blade. "What do you mean does it matter? I stayed up waiting for you! You ignored every call, every text – "Her voice cracked, then sharpened. "Were you with her?"

"I wasn't with anyone".

"Liar!" she bit out. "That perfume – you don't wear it. That isn't your scent".

A dark smirk ghosted over his lips as he prowled toward her "So...you know my scent?" Her knees weakened as she stumbled back. "You didn't answer my question".

He raked a hand through his hair, irritation flashing across his face. "I wasn't with anyone".

He turned to leave dismissive.

"No", she snapped, her hand darting out, gripping his wrist. The moment she touched him, the air thickened. His body went rigid, his eyes deadly still.

"Were you with her?" she whispered again, voice trembling but fierce. "I know this is a contract, but at least have some respect for me".

His gaze locked onto hers, a dangerous fire burning within. "She's nothing to me", he said. "That picture? Business. Since then, I've had her watched. Too flawless. Too genuine. And I don't trust genuine."

Her breath caught. He knew she had seen it. He wanted her to.

He yanked her closer, their bodies pressed flush, his heart searing through her. His breath fanned across her lips, so close she could taste the whiskey on him.

"Tell me", he murmured darkly, eyes flicking to her parted mouth, "did it make you jealous? The thought of me with another?"

Lisa's chest rose and fell rapidly. Her lips parted, anticipation trembling through her – waiting, aching – for a kiss she shouldn't want.

But instead of closing the distance, his mouth shifted, brushing the shell of her ear.

His voice, low and lethal, wrapped around her. "I won't touch you until you beg for it. And when you do, Lisa...I'll ruin you".

Her body trembled violently, her breath caught in her throat. And then – he was gone. Just like that.