Ana's POV
I skipped the studio entirely.
Once I got home, I told my brothers I was heading to the design studio before slipping away.
Morris consumed my thoughts during the entire journey.
Part of me burned with fury over his deception—he'd been performing an elaborate charade from the start.
Even when Preston concocted that ridiculous story about me being Welch family blood, Morris knew the truth but kept his mouth shut.
I felt like a complete idiot, spilling my soul while he stayed locked up tight as a vault, hiding behind layers of lies.
But then again, he'd been my biggest lifeline lately.
What right did I have to rage at him?
This contradiction twisted through my chest, leaving me clueless about how to face him.
My phone buzzed relentlessly with his messages and calls.
I ignored every single one.
Only after I'd been staring at my drawing board for quite some time—my phone finally quiet—did I snap out of it and unlock the screen.
