Married a Secret Billionaire

Morpheus battled insomnia that night, tossing and turning in a restless struggle. Despite his weariness, sleep eluded him, his mind consumed by thoughts of Persephone.

Unable to divert his focus, he found himself immersed in memories of her. Yet, in the rare moments when her image faded, all that remained was the haunting specter of his life, besieged by bullets.

The merciless brutality of the battlefield lingered in his thoughts—the shattered ruins, the blood-soaked drains.

He curled into a ball and closed his eyes, a sharp pain radiating from the depths of his heart. Trembling and breathless, he grappled with the overwhelming anguish.

Morpheus summoned his strength and compelled himself to sit up, seeking solace in the bathroom. Cold water cascaded over his wounds as he cleansed them repeatedly.

Gazing into the mirror, he confronted his reflection, a visual narrative of scars, old and new. Perhaps, he mused, his involvement in the gritty underground arena served as a deliberate choice to overlay fresh wounds upon the scars of the past.

These recent injuries, a stark reminder of his continued existence, seemed to echo the resilience he forged amid the ashes of war.

Morpheus had survived, not only for himself but for those who shared the tumultuous journey through the chaos of battle.

Morpheus only succumbed to slumber as the first light of day began to break.

Upon awakening, he noted the clock on the wall signaling 7:00 a.m.

to the balcony and took deep breaths, invigorated by the morning breeze. Surveying the room, he speculated that Persephone

breakfast had once been

was about to place a premade beef sandwich on the dining

used to eat at home, realizing it couldn’t be a

kept the cold sandwich for himself, deciding to make an unprecedented morning market visit.

was ready, he knocked on

the absence of any response, he hesitated, concerned that something might be amiss. He tentatively tested the doorknob and discovered that Persephone had not locked the door. Pushing it open gently,

surprise, Persephone wasn’t asleep on the bed but rather at the desk. On closer inspection, she appeared to be sleeping soundly, occasionally

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“Hmm.”

and brother. Their voices reached her, but before

plummeting at lightning

echoed

face before her in her