Dennis Williams had seemingly finished his discussion with Mr. Brooks. He chuckled, his tone laced with something that made Winona's skin crawl. "Winona, this is for your own good! Sure, Mr. Brooks's son has his... challenges, but once you're married, you'll be running the show. And Mr. Brooks is quite taken with you, you know."
Winona's face fell. Her voice came out flat, breaking. "Dad, you can't be serious." Marry a disabled man and play nursemaid to his father? Is this really what her own father had planned for her?
"Winona, you're a smart girl. Some things don't need to be spelled out. There are a ton of girls who'd kill for a chance to marry into the Brooks family, and yet Mr. Brooks chose you."
Her heart dropped into her stomach. She shot to her feet, a blade twisting deep in her gut. "What am I to you, Dad? I'm your daughter!" It was unthinkable—any father orchestrating this kind of future for his own child. She was only just beginning to grasp how ruthless he could be.
"Winona, I've laid it out for you. The Brooks proposal is a golden ticket. As a Williams, strategic marriages are everything. If our business tanks, your sister's going to have a rough time when she marries into the Castro family."
Then it clicked. It was all for Elia. Even though Elia wasn't his flesh and blood, Dennis treated Winona like the outsider. In that moment, whatever hope she'd held onto—for her father's love, his approval—crumbled to ash. This was the man her mother had loved so desperately.
She drew a shaky breath. "And what if I refuse?"
"Winona, Mr. Brooks has promised full backing for our company after you marry. I've weighed every angle, and you don't get a say in this. You're my daughter. Don't make me sever our ties over this. I've set up a meeting for you with Mr. Brooks this weekend. You'll start building a rapport."
Seeing the resistance written all over her face, Dennis' voice hardened. "I raised you. And your mother's medical bills? They're way beyond what you can handle. It doesn't matter how talented you think you are—her health can't wait. You've got three days to chew on it. But let's be clear: there's no other way."
Facing her father's icy stare, Winona forced a bitter smile and walked out of the office without another word.
That was it. She knew she could never go back to work there. No matter how hard she busted her ass, staying at Horizon meant being undervalued and crushed into the ground. Her father didn't see her as a daughter. She was just a commodity to be traded.
This was her life.
She hailed a cab, her mind fixed on one place: her mother. She needed to be held, even if just for a fleeting second of warmth.
The moment she saw her mother, Winona shattered. She wrapped her arms around her, sobs wracking her body. "Mom, I can't do this much longer."
Her only answer was her mother's vacant gaze, staring out the window as sunlight painted a gentle glow over them both. For that brief, quiet moment, she wished time would freeze. But reality was a cold slap. The attending doctor broke the news—her mom's medical bills couldn't be put off any longer. Monday was the deadline.
"Your mother needs a higher level of care. There's still a chance," Dr. Nichols said gently.
"I understand. Thank you, Dr. Nichols."
Staring at her mother, who understood nothing of this cruel world, Winona thought maybe that was a blessing in disguise.
She spent a sleepless night at the hospital, keeping vigil. As the city sank into darkness, her father's words played on a loop in her head—her options were nonexistent. But she wasn't about to roll over. Could she really just give in? She'd never dreamed of some fairy-tale life full of love, but damn it, she at least wanted her remaining days free of shadows and despair. She still had dreams, ones she wasn't ready to bury.
A memory flickered—something she'd blurted out once, a little drunk: if she was ever getting married, it would be to the most powerful man alive.
A crazy, borderline insane idea sparked in her mind. If she was cornered, she'd roll the dice and carve out her own damn path.
Her thoughts landed on a man—the most powerful in all of New York City. Who else but Zayden Morales, the head of the Morales Group?
But she hesitated. He was a mystery, his real face hidden from the public eye. He barely showed up at events, and not a single clear photo of him existed online. Yet the rumors were wild—superstitious types claimed any woman he married was cursed.
She remembered Briana's stories about his tragic past: his childhood sweetheart's entire family dying right before their engagement, cementing his ominous rep.
Winona wasn't one to buy into ghost stories, but she knew the elite kept their distance because of those whispers—and his supposedly strange nature.
But should she take the leap?
As dawn broke and her mother slept soundly, Winona made her choice. If she had to pick between marrying into the Brooks cesspool or aligning herself with someone of untouchable power, she'd grab power with both hands. The outcome would screw her over either way. As long as her mother got better, nothing else mattered.
After tucking her mother in, she headed back to the Williams house. Empty. She crashed in her room, sleeping hard, then woke and dressed simply—hair tied back, slipping on her black-rimmed glasses. She had a plan and a destination: a meeting with Zayden Morales.
The towering skyscraper that housed the Morales Group was an icon of New York City's skyline. She approached the front desk, spinning a story about representing Horizon and demanding to see him.
As chance would have it, Zayden was just returning from an inspection when he caught sight of a familiar silhouette. His assistant, Wade Cole, recognized her too—the woman who had waltzed into Zayden's hotel room that unforgettable night.
One glance from Zayden sent Wade over to Winona.
She whirled around, catching Zayden disappearing into a private elevator. Her eyes locked onto Wade—she remembered him from the Royal Hotel.
"Hello!" she greeted, her voice too bright, not sure how to even bring up that night.
"Miss Williams, you're here to see Mr. Morales. Follow me," Wade said, gesturing ahead.
