Forced to Sign for His Lover's Crime

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.

Benedetta pieced it together that this was indeed Nick's new company and that the man Morgan spoke of was Nick.

Her face blanched, but she clung to hope. "I'm Nick Griffin's sister. Did you make a mistake? My brother has got a girlfriend, and that's Jennifer."

Morgan's hand lashed out, slapping Benedetta across the face. "You, his sister? Look at yourself, you pathetic nobody!"

Benedetta stumbled back, her head crashing against a table's sharp edge with a sickening thud.

My heart leaping to my throat, I rushed to her side. "Benedetta!"

Blood gushed from her scalp, streaking her pale face. She curled into a ball, clutching her head. Blood seeped through her fingers.

"Jennifer..." she whispered, her eyes unfocused. "My head hurts so much."

"Benedetta, hold on!" I cradled her, my voice breaking.

"Help... Help me," she murmured, her body convulsing.

With my phone gone, I fumbled for hers, finding it in her pocket. But before I could hit the dial button, Morgan ripped it away, waving it at her livestream. "Look, fam! They're pulling a fake injury stunt to scam us. What a joke!"

The crowd roared with laughter, pointing at us.

"Give it back!" I lunged, but the guards tackled me, slamming my face into the cold floor.

Pinned, I could only watch Benedetta's breathing grow fainter. Desperation crept in, and I screamed, "She is really Nick's sister. She just had brain surgery. She'll die without help!"

My pleas were lost in the livestream's cruel jeers.