The Wrong Woman

As night descended, a gentle chill permeated the air.

While the rest of the Morrisons retired to their rooms, Mila and Nathan emerged from their sanctuary.

Following a long session of intimacy, Mila found herself weakened by hunger.

In the kitchen nook, the maids arrived bearing plates of food.

Seated across from each other, Mila and Nathan exchanged affectionate glances, tinged with a hint of shyness.

Nathan served Mila a bowl of soup, his tone gentle as he asked, "Chubs, did Fenna say or do anything today that upset you?"

Mila shook her head in response, sensing his underlying tension.

Drawing from past experiences, Nathan was determined to prevent the situation from irreversibly spiraling out of control.

He continued gently, "If anything is troubling you, please don't hesitate to share it with me. Keeping it bottled up inside and facing it alone isn't the way to go."

Mila stirred her soup with a spoon, taking a moment to contemplate before asking, "What will you do if Fenna refuses to give up?"

Nathan's smile turned bitter. "Dealing with outright criminals is simple; it's the ones who walk the line between right and wrong that pose a challenge. They persist relentlessly, making it difficult to handle them. Sometimes, the most prudent approach is keeping one's distance."

"But what about Fenna's pos-"

"It's already been reassigned, regardless of her approval," Nathan replied.

Mila breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing this.

a plate of food before asking, "How are things

with a smile,

wrap things up at tomorrow's noon shareholders'

for someone

coming

"Yes."

"Why is that?"

"Because of Lucas."

"Lucas is involved?"

and vice

heart sinking with each

Lucas had undergone a drastic transformation, altering his appearance and even his voice through surgery,

existence only served to amplify this

softly, her voice calm and

long, noon arrived on the following

the depths of late winter, a biting chill permeated

convoy of over a dozen luxury cars glided swiftly into the Hoffis Corporation

security personnel from the building hurried out in frustration, aiming to intercept the

unsettling the security guards who approached them. These men, usually attired in military garb, now appeared formal

guards spoke up, "Who... who

that moment, Zach emerged from the car. Observing his arrival, the security guards nodded with deference, offering a slight bow and addressing him politely, "M-Mr.

expression remained stern, radiating an air of unquestionable authority. With a dismissive gesture, he signaled

car alongside Zach, positioning themselves on

the lead, swiftly moving forward to scout the way and press

his entourage surrounding him, Zach made a commanding entrance into