Page 69 of Filthy Rich Bosses

"This is all your fault, you little homewrecker!" she screams, her eyes wild and unfocused.

I dodge her attack, my rescue-honed reflexes kicking in. "Whoa there, Cruella," I quip, trying to mask my fear with sarcasm. "Shouldn't you be off abusing some puppies right now?"

Morgan's face contorts with rage, and I brace myself for another assault. The room feels like it's spinning, a whirlwind of anger and hurt feelings. I catch Cole's eye across the chaos, silently pleading for help.

"You think you can just waltz in here and take what's mine?" she snarls.

My heart races, but I stand my ground. "I haven't taken anything that was yours," I say, my voice steady despite my trembling hands. "And from what I've heard, Cole hasn't been yours for a long time."

Morgan's face contorts with rage. "You don't know anything!" she shrieks, launching herself at me again.

I brace myself for impact, but Grayson steps in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking Morgan's path. "That's enough," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Chase, call the police."

As Chase pulls out his phone, I peek around Grayson to see Juniper standing off to the side, her face pale and her eyes wide. She looks torn between fleeing and staying to see how this plays out. Morgan thrashes against Grayson’s unyielding presence, her shrieks bouncing off the walls like nails on a chalkboard.

"You can't do this to me!" she wails, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an ally. When none appear, she turns her desperation into fury.

Juniper, still standing off to the side, looks as though she might faint. Her face is pale, her earlier bravado completely gone.

Morgan tries one last time, twisting toward Cole with tears streaking her face. "Cole, please. Tell them! Tell them about us!"

Cole’s jaw tightens, his eyes hardening. He steps forward, his voice cold and resolute. "There is nous,Morgan. There hasn’t been for months. This obsession of yours? It needs to stop."

Her expression crumbles, and a sob escapes her as the sound of sirens wails faintly in the distance.

Grayson, ever the calm in the storm, leans toward Morgan, his voice low but sharp. “The authorities will handle this now. You’ve made your choices—deal with the consequences.”

The sound of sirens grows louder, and just as Morgan’s shrieking hits a fever pitch, Douglas reappears in the doorway, looking entirely unruffled despite the chaos around him.

“Gentlemen,” he says crisply, gesturing to the two officers following him. “Welcome to the madhouse. I trust you’ve brought tranquilizers or, failing that, a very sturdy straightjacket?”

The officers exchange glances, clearly unsure whether Douglas is being serious.

“This way, please,” he continues, not waiting for a response. He steps aside with a flourish, gesturing toward Morgan, who is now halfway through a spectacular meltdown. “You’ll find the rabid one over there. Careful; she tends to bite.”

Morgan glares at him, her face contorted with rage. “Who the hell do you think you are, Douglas?” she screeches.

Douglas doesn’t miss a beat. “The butler, madam. Though I prefer to think of myself as a professional problem-solver. And tonight, the problem is you.”

Chase chokes on a laugh, and even I have to bite my lip to keep from smiling.

“Douglas,” Grayson says, his tone sharp but tinged with amusement.

“Apologies, sir,” Douglas replies smoothly. “I’ll save my commentary for after the removal of the pests.” He casts a withering glance at Juniper and Morgan before turning toGrayson. “Shall I prepare celebratory drinks once the premises are vermin-free?”

The officers step forward, one addressing Morgan while the other approaches Juniper, who has gone deathly pale.

Chase quickly explains the situation, pointing to Morgan and Juniper. “She attacked my fiancée,” he adds, gesturing to me with a protective edge in his voice.

Fiancée? My eyes dart to Chase, my mouth parting to protest, but his slight smirk tells me it’s part of his usual charm—protective and a little cheeky in the face of drama.

The officers separate Morgan and Juniper, questioning them briefly before cuffing Morgan. Juniper, though not cuffed, looks utterly defeated as an officer escorts her toward the door.

As the women are led out, the weight of the room seems to lift, leaving behind an uneasy quiet.

Cole sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Finally. I’ll call my lawyer first thing tomorrow. This is more than enough to file a restraining order.”

Grayson nods in agreement, his face still impassive but his mind clearly working a mile a minute. “Good. Juniper needs to be investigated. If she’s capable of undermining me and doing this to Tessa, who knows what else she’s been doing under my nose.”

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