Chapter 10 – Morgan
Chapter Ten
I’ll Marry You... Under One Condition
Morgan
I stood frozen in place, staring at the spot where Lance had just been, the word "marriage" still echoing in my ears.
The entire apartment had gone deathly silent. Even Ava seemed to sense the tension, her tiny hands no longer reaching for the abandoned puppets.
Marriage. To Lance. The man I'd walked away from, even though to do so carved out my heart.
And now he expected me to marry into his family—his dangerous , violent family that he'd spent ten years running from.
"Morgan." Gwen's voice was gentle, cautious, like she was talking to someone on a ledge. "Sit down, honey. You look like you're about to pass out."
I hadn't realized I was swaying until Pierce appeared at my elbow, guiding me to the couch with a steadying hand. My legs gave out the moment the cushions hit the back of my knees.
"Well," Micah said, breaking the silence as he dropped down beside me. "That was dramatic as fuck."
I let out a strangled laugh that sounded more like a sob. "Dramatic? He just casually suggested we get married like he was asking me to pass the salt."
Rowan handed me a glass of water without a word. I took it, sipping mechanically while trying to slow the manic pounding of my heart. My hands were shaking so badly I nearly spilled it down my front.
"He's trying to protect you," Gavin said quietly from where he stood by the window. "In his way."
I shot him a withering look. "By offering me a prison sentence with a wedding ring?"
Gwen settled on my other side, Ava secure in her arms. "No one expects you to consider this, Morgan. It's?—"
"Insane? Twisted? The most absurd solution to a problem ever?" I laughed again, that same hollow sound. "Yeah, I got that part."
But even as the words left my mouth, a treacherous voice in the back of my mind whispered, Is it really so absurd ?
The man had made it his life's mission to keep me safe. Had risked everything coming to the co-op when I was in danger. Had been willing to die for me more than once.
And now he was willing to sacrifice his freedom—his carefully constructed separate life—to ensure my protection.
Even through the shock, warmth drifted through my chest like a softly whispered breeze.
"I need to hear what they're saying." I pushed myself to my feet before I could second-guess the decision.
"Morgan—" Gwen started.
"It's my life," I cut her off. "My future. If they're in there discussing it, I should be part of the conversation."
Gwen handed Ava to Micah and stood with determination burning in her eyes. "I'm putting a stop to this right now."
Her expression was fierce - the same protective look she'd worn when she'd come home from college to find our father yelling in my face about a B on my report card. That day, she'd packed my things and moved me into her apartment without a single discussion.
"Gwen—"
"I didn't jump in front of the arranged marriage bullet just to have it hit you instead," she said, her voice low but steely. "Men making decisions about women's futures? Not in this family. Not ever again."
She strode toward Atticus's office with the kind of purpose that made everyone, even Pierce, step aside. I hurried after her. This was my future they were discussing, not hers.
We could hear their voices before we reached the door—low, intense, measured in that way men speak when they're furious but trying to maintain control.
"—trapping her in this nightmare," Atticus was saying. "After everything you've put her through?"
"You know what happens if we don't," Lance replied, his voice like gravel. "You've seen what the old man is capable of."
Gwen didn't bother knocking. She pushed the door open so forcefully it banged against the wall, making both men turn sharply.
"Absolutely not," she declared, stalking into the room like a queen entering battle. "No way in hell is my sister being forced into marriage. I don't care who's after her or what twisted family code you're operating under."
I slipped in behind her, quietly closing the door as Lance and Atticus stared at Gwen in surprise.
"Sweetheart—" Atticus began, but one look from his wife silenced him.
"Don't 'sweetheart' me, Atticus Price." Gwen's voice could have cut steel.
"You think I don't know what's happening here?
Morgan has spent her entire life being controlled by men.
By our father. By you," she said, pointing at Lance.
"Now you want to chain her to you permanently to 'protect' her? As if she doesn't get a say?"
Lance's face remained carefully neutral, but I caught the muscle jumping in his jaw.
"Morgan gets the only say that matters," he said quietly. "This isn't about control."
"Bullshit," Gwen snapped. "Everything about this is about control. Your family is trying to control you, you're trying to control Morgan's safety, and my husband is trying to control the situation. Not one of you has stopped to ask what Morgan actually wants."
"What Morgan wants," I interjected, stepping forward, "is to be part of this conversation. Since it's my life we're discussing."
Three pairs of eyes turned to me. Lance's dark and intense, Atticus's concerned, and Gwen's fierce and protective.
"You're not marrying him," Gwen stated flatly. "We'll find another way." She glanced at Lance. "No offense."
"A little taken," Lance muttered, but his eyes never left my face.
"That's not your call to make, Gwen," I replied quietly. "Not his either," I added, flicking a glance at Lance. "It's mine."
A muscle in Lance's jaw jumped, but he remained silent.
"Morgan," Atticus said, his voice unexpectedly calm for someone who'd just learned one of their executives came from an assassin family. "Before you even consider this, I need to understand the full threat assessment. Is marriage truly the only protection available?"
He stood straighter, the CEO now fully visible. "Pendragon has resources. Safe houses across the globe. Private security teams. We could make you disappear, Lance. Both of you. You did it once before—we can do it again."
Lance shook his head. "I disappeared once because no one was actively hunting me.
My grandfather made some effort here and there, but I assure you he was not serious.
The moment they decide to come after me—after us—it would be different.
" His jaw tightened. "And do you really want Morgan looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life? Never settling down, always running?"
"If that's what it takes to keep her safe," Atticus countered.
"That's not a life," Lance said quietly. "And it's not just Morgan. It's Gwen. It's Ava. Are you prepared to always be running? To raise your daughter, never knowing if today's the day they find you?"
His voice dropped lower. "They'll come for all of my new family. Everyone I care about becomes a target."
Atticus's expression faltered, his eyes darting to Gwen, who stood rigid beside me, her face pale.
"Your security is good, Atticus," Lance continued. "But my grandfather has resources you can't match. Government contacts. Operatives who've been doing this for decades. You could lock her in a bunker, and they'd still find a way. And I promise you, he will not stop coming."
I watched Atticus absorb this information with surprising composure, though I caught the flash of genuine fear in his eyes when Lance mentioned Gwen and Ava.
"I'm not considering anything yet," I said carefully. "But I want to understand exactly what we're talking about. The details. The consequences. All of it."
Lance took half a step toward me, then stopped when I flinched. Something flashed across his face – hurt, maybe, though he covered it quickly.
"Like I said out there, it's simple," he explained, his voice controlled, almost clinical. "We get legally married. You take my name. Once you're officially a DuLac, you become untouchable. My grandfather adheres to the family code absolutely – blood and marriage are sacred above all else."
"And he'll just... what? Back off? Send us a toaster and welcome me to the family?" I couldn't keep the skepticism from my voice.
Lance's lips quirked in a humorless smile. "No. He'll want to meet you. Assess you. Make sure it's real."
The implication hit me like ice water. "So we'd have to pretend?—"
"It would have to be convincing," Lance confirmed, his eyes never leaving mine. "In every way."
I swallowed hard, heat creeping up my neck despite myself. The memory of what had almost happened in that hospital on-call room flashed through my mind. His hands on my skin. His mouth?—
"For how long?" I asked, forcing the words past the sudden tightness in my throat. "How long would we have to keep up this... charade?" Lance hesitated, and that's when I knew. "This isn't temporary," I realized, my voice barely audible. "Is it?"
"Morgan—" Atticus started, but Lance cut him off.
"No. It's not," he admitted, something raw and honest breaking through his controlled facade. "Divorce would invalidate the protection. This would have to be... permanent. At least until I neutralize the problem—it's the safest option we have right now."
I stared at him, trying to process what he was saying. "So your plan is to marry me, then what? Hunt down your entire family one by one?"
"If that's what it takes," he said without hesitation.
The word hung between us like a physical thing. Permanent . Forever. Till death do us part.
"No." Gwen's voice was iron. "Absolutely not. We'll find another way."
"There is no other way," Lance growled, frustration finally cracking through his composure.
"You think I want this? You think I want to trap her?
Force her into this?" He ran a hand through his hair, agitation radiating from every line of his body.
"I've spent the last month regretting everything that I am that tore us apart.
I know she doesn't want to be here. If I thought running would work and she'd be safe, I would do that. But it won't. They'd find us."
"And marriage is your solution?" Gwen challenged, stepping toe-to-toe with him despite their height difference.
"Yes," Lance bit out. "I would give my life to protect her. She already knows that. I thought if I could keep her away from my family, it would protect her. It didn’t. They found her anyway. Hell, I thought at least now, she’d be free since she left me. But she’s still in the crosshairs.
None of it worked. But this is an oath in blood. My blood."
His words hit me with unexpected force. Not a declaration of love, but something equally powerful – a promise written in blood.
"Gwen," I said quietly, placing my hand on my sister's arm. "I appreciate you fighting for me, but I need to handle this."
She turned to me, eyes blazing. "Morgan?—"
I faced Lance directly. "You've thought this through? This is genuinely the only way to keep everyone safe?"
"I've run every scenario," he said, his dark eyes never leaving mine. "This is the only guaranteed protection. My grandfather's code is absolute when it comes to family."
Silence fell over the room as I weighed his words. A death sentence if I refused. A prison if I accepted.
"I've heard enough," I said finally, my voice strangely calm. "I'll do it. I'll marry you."
Lance's expression remained carefully neutral, but I caught the flash of something like hope in his eyes before he masked it.
"Under one condition," I added.