Chapter 4

Morgan

Before I could even explain the text, Julian saw red.

His hand flew across my face. The crack echoed through the office as I hit the floor hard.

"I actually tried to defend you!" Julian roared. "But you really are that cheap! No wonder you're dying to quit—you're already crawling into another guy's bed. My agency doesn't need a slut like you!"

Taking his cue, the coworkers swarmed me with vicious glares.

"Your private life is a mess, and you bully interns! You're a walking stain on this agency!" someone yelled. "You're not taking another step out of here until you get on your knees and apologize!"

Before I could get up, a sharp kick to my knee forced me down. Someone grabbed my hair and slammed my head against a desk corner. A warm trickle of blood ran down my temple.

Chloe crouched down, her nails digging into my chin. "Take a hint, old hag," she whispered. "Don't ever fight me for my man."

Seeing the blood, Julian finally snapped out of it, terrified of a PR scandal. He grabbed my arm, dragged me to the elevator, and threw me inside.

"Go home," he hissed. "Mention divorce again, and I'll destroy you."

As the doors started closing, Chloe trotted over. "Julian! You promised to take me out tonight!"

His face softened instantly. "Of course, baby. When have I ever missed a holiday with you?"

As the elevator dropped, I wiped the blood from my mouth and laughed bitterly. He had missed our anniversary every single year for her.

That night, he didn't come home. Neither did I.

The next morning, the client's headquarters was packed with media for the million-dollar pitch.

I walked into the hall, a neat white bandage covering the wound on my forehead.

Julian, sporting a fresh hickey above his collar, spotted me immediately. A smug smile spread across his face.

"I knew it," he said, strutting over. "You panicked, so you pulled an all-nighter to write a new pitch just to win me back."

He leaned in close. "I stayed out with Chloe to comfort her last night. But since you're trying this hard... I'll come home tonight. Consider it a bonus."

Chloe rolled her eyes behind him. "Can't believe you're still begging him for attention. How embarrassing."

A video of yesterday's office drama had leaked online, and the reporters recognized me instantly. They swarmed us with microphones.

"Morgan! Did your new sugar daddy already dump you?"

"Are you here to beg Julian for your job back? Are you really that desperate?"

I ignored them entirely. I pushed through the crowd, walked straight to the client's VP in the front row, and dropped a printed proposal on his lap.

"The complete campaign strategy and creative designs are all in here," I said calmly. "Don't bother looking at the others."

The VP looked shocked. He flipped through a few pages, and his eyes went wide. He stood up and shook my hand enthusiastically.

"Morgan Hayes! We always believed that wherever you go, top-tier creative follows."

Misunderstanding the exchange, Julian confidently puffed his chest out for the cameras.

"Managing difficult women is like training a dog," he bragged loudly. "You just have to break them to unlock their potential."

He shot a cocky glare at Marcus Sinclair, our biggest rival, sitting across the aisle. "Save your breath today, Sinclair. You're out of your league."

Marcus chuckled darkly and gestured toward the stage. "Is that so? Listen closer, Vance."

Seconds later, the VP tapped the microphone.

"The winning contract goes to the Sinclair Group," the VP announced clearly. "Naturally, as they are the only ones operating with the brilliant Morgan Hayes as their Lead Strategist."