To us, Nick was thoughtful, sweet, and ambitious.He was perfect in every way, but Benedetta's question shattered my last flicker of denial."This is Nick's hub," I muttered, my voice heavy with realization, "and this woman is his mistress."My hands shook as I pulled out my phone, ready to call him and demand answers. But before I could dial, Morgan's manicured hand shot out, snatching my phone."Calling for backup? Dream on." She dangled the phone mockingly before smashing it onto the concrete floor.The screen shattered. Not satisfied, she ground her stiletto into the wreckage, reducing it to fragments.My restraint snapped, rage boiling over, but Morgan reveled in it. "You're not just paying $500,000; you're going to grovel at my livestream, begging for forgiveness. Nobody messes with Morgan Lamb."The name hit like a thunderbolt.Weeks ago, I'd glimpsed a heart emoji with a "Mo" on Nick's lock screen. When I asked, he dismissed it as a client. Now the truth was undeniable.
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