Forced to Sign for His Lover's Crime

Morgan Lamb's eyes glinted with malice when she caught my reaction. "Oh, so you're the one sniffing around my man, huh?"

Before I could get a word in, she flipped on her livestream, shoving the camera in my face.

"Fam, check out this shameless woman!" she screeched, her voice like nails on a chalkboard, blasting through the hub's speakers and her online audience. "She drags some half-dead kid here, accuses me of selling fakes, and claims she knows my man. Guess her little scheme's falling apart now that the real queen is here. What's next, playing the victim?"

Her words hit like a tidal wave of sewage, and the staff's whispers swallowed us whole.

"She's got some nerve, showing up like that. Total con artist!"

"Looks all sweet, but she's a lowlife, dragging a sick kid into her drama."

"Can't pay up? Then don't pick a fight with the boss lady."

Benedetta Griffin shook with rage, nearly collapsing. Her recent surgery had left her weak, and now her face was ghostly pale, her breathing shallow.

"You're all wrong!" she gasped, clutching her chest as dizziness hit her.

I steadied her, shielding her from the venomous glares with my body. I shouted, "She's selling dangerous products. We're just trying to protect consumers!"

The staff laughed, drowning out my voice.

Her eyes glinting with cruelty, Morgan signaled several burly security guys to close in, their broad shoulders blocking any escape.

"This hub is my castle, a gift from my man," she declared, thrusting her phone's camera closer to my face. "I call the shots here, and you're done!"

Benedetta clung to my arm, whispering, "Did we mess up? This can't be Nick's place, right?"

Nick Griffin had always been her hero—a flawless brother who could never be involved in such a sleazy operation or allow his staff to peddle harmful products.