Morgan nodded, picking at her salad. “It is. But after this weekend... Tessa, I feel like I’ve known him for months, not days. It’s intense but feels right somehow.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. Really.” Tessa reached across the table to squeeze Morgan’s hand. “Just be careful, okay? Between your ex’s wild claims and the problems at work, I’m starting to think you’re living in a soap opera.”
“Tell me about it,” Morgan sighed.
“And if Jason shows up again, do you want me to tell him anything?”
Morgan considered this. Part of her wanted to dismiss Jason’s claims entirely, but another part—the analytical side that made her good at her job—couldn’t help connecting dots.
“Ask him which company higher-up supposedly threatened him,” she said finally. “I’m curious.”
Tessa nodded, though her expression suggested she thought Morgan was humoring a madman. “Will do. Now, tell me more about this charity dinner. What are you wearing? Please say something scandalous enough to make Helmet Man’s head explode.”
As they fell into lighter conversation, Morgan couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that all these separate threads—Richard’s embezzlement, Jason’s claims, the break-in, Archer’s secrecy—were somehow interconnected in ways she had yet to discover.
The charity dinner suddenly felt like more than just a date. It felt like a turning point approaching at frightening speed.
Morgan returned to Archer’s penthouse in the early afternoon, her mind still churning with questions from her meeting with Alexandra and lunch with Tessa. The place was quiet—Archer had mentioned he’d be in meetings most of the day—but a note waited for her on the kitchen counter bringing a smile to her lips.
Hope your meeting went well. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back around 6.
She ran her fingers over the elegant handwriting, smiling at his thoughtfulness despite the unease gnawing at her. With a few hours to herself in this luxurious space, Morgan decided to finally do some research. Not on Archer, apparently Tessa already had that all figured out, but on her work situation.
Setting up her laptop at the dining table, she opened a browser and typed: “Sullivan Enterprises.”
The company’s website was sleek and professional—security services, technology solutions, corporate consulting. The “About Us” page featured a timeline of the company’s growth from a small security firm to a multinational corporation. Founded by Archer Sullivan Sr., now led by his son, Archer Sullivan.
Morgan’sfinger hovered over the link to the executive team page. Something held her back—a strange reluctance, as if she would be crossing a threshold she couldn’t uncross. Taking a deep breath, she clicked.
The page loaded to reveal a series of professional headshots. At the top: Archer Sullivan, CEO.
Morgan’s heart stopped.
The photo showed only his face and shoulders—a handsome man in his mid-thirties with dark hair, strong jawline, and intense eyes that seemed to look right through the screen. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, his expression serious but not severe.
What caught Morgan’s attention, however, was the shade and style of the hair.
“It can’t be,” she whispered, leaning closer to the screen. She paused for a moment, thinking her actions through before continuing.
She opened up a new google tab and searched: ‘Archer Sullivan’
The images that came up of him were all red carpet-type events, but one stood out from the rest. He was still dressed immaculately, however, the arms of his shirt were rolled up, and there, on his right forearm was the dagger tattoo that he’d specifically shown her those few days ago.
She revised her search: ‘Archer Sullivan Beach’
And sure enough, there were photos of him shirtless, the dagger and phoenix tattoo that she had seen herself multiple times now, and had traced with her fingertips in the darkness of Archer’s bedroom.
The room seemed to tilt slightly. Morgan pushed back from the table, trying to steady her breathing. Archer—her Archer—was Archer Sullivan. CEO of Sullivan Enterprises. The company acquiring Vertex Creative.
Everything clicked into place with sickening clarity that Tessa couldn’t have interpreted with the limited information that Morgan had shared at lunch. The helmet. The secrecy. The resources at his disposal. The way Alexandra had reacted to his name. His knowledge of her workplace situation.
Had he known who she was from the beginning? Had their meeting been orchestrated rather than coincidental? Was their entire relationship built on his need to learn about Vertex from the inside?
She did another search for companies owned by Sullivan Enterprises, the words earlier from Tessa coming back to her, “Jason actually claimed that one of the higher ups forced him to woo that woman in the restaurantor he’d lose his job.”
Jason worked at Meridian Investment Group, a financial services firm that manages wealth for high-net-worth clients. As she scanned the list of companies owned by Archer, she didn’t find Meridian listed.
But that didn’t satisfy the threads she could feel were somehow connected. She ran another search on who owned Meridian Investment Group instead.
