In college, I fell for him at first sight. The day I finally gathered the courage to confess, he vanished.
That unspoken love story ended before it began.
When we met again, I learned he was sick.
I was the one who tested those drugs on my own body, over and over. I was the one who anonymously donated my kidney. I was the one who dragged him back from death's door.
I hinted at the truth so many times. Every time, he brushed it off with that gentle smile.
The cruel joke was—he never believed me.
His voice remained soft, but it froze me to the core.
"The priority now is making sure no evidence gets out. I'll watch every detail. I won't miss a single loose thread."
"Abigail is my wife. I'll be with her forever."
Morgan looked at me—drenched in cold sweat, face white as paper—and his brow furrowed deeply. But under Charles's authority, he could only murmur his agreement.
"Mr. Charles, with your capabilities, no one can touch Ms. Freya."
He paused. He couldn't help himself.
"But why do you have to drug your wife—"
"Enough!"
Charles cut him off coldly, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"I've already deleted all the footage from the scene, but there's no guarantee someone won't talk."