I Ctrl+Alt+Deleted My Ex and Ctrl+C'd His Uncle novel Chapter 44

**Through Silent Meadows We Trace Stories Left Behind Yesterday by Asa Rowan Flint**

**Chapter 44**

“Someone slipped me an aphrodisiac—just like last time,” Marcus stated, his voice icy and devoid of emotion.

“Find out who did this,” came the terse reply.

“Of course, Mr. Morgan,” he affirmed, the weight of the command heavy on his shoulders.

Once the call ended, he turned his attention to Sophie, his demeanor softening as he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I was set up,” he said, the regret evident in his voice.

As the memories of the recent events crashed over him like a tidal wave, he noticed Sophie’s face flush with color, her gaze dropping to the floor in a flurry of panic.

“It’s… it’s okay,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her lips, naturally a soft pink, now appeared as vibrant as a freshly bloomed rose—tempting and full of life. Yet, her eyes were slightly red, a mistiness lingering that stirred something deep within Marcus.

He swallowed hard, feeling the desire he had fought so fiercely to suppress surge through him once more.

Clenching his fists tightly, he felt the veins pulse beneath his skin, forcing himself to divert his gaze away from her.

Suddenly, everything clicked into place—why he had lost control with Sophie during their first encounter.

Since taking the reins of the Morgan Group, countless individuals had sought to exploit his vulnerabilities.

Women of all types had been thrust into his path; when seduction failed, they resorted to drugs—a tactic that had become all too familiar.

At that banquet, he had sensed an undercurrent of danger and had hurried back to his room, only to be met with a shocking sight.

As he flung the door open, he found a woman sprawled across his bed.

She wasn’t doing anything overtly provocative, yet her mere presence was enough to send a man spiraling into madness.

Under the influence of the drug, he had succumbed to his primal instincts, acting like a ravenous beast.

Her cries, soft and pleading, only served to fuel his frenzy, pushing him deeper into a chaotic abyss.

Until the moment she murmured “Liam” in a breathy whisper.

That single word jolted him back to reality.

Bathed in moonlight, he finally recognized Sophie’s face, and a wave of rage coursed through him, washing away the drug’s effects in an instant.

He had been manipulated.

The woman used to ensnare him held another in her heart—his very own nephew.

Their next encounter awaited them at the auction.

He admitted to himself that he had purchased the West City lot solely to send Sophie a message—to make her comprehend the repercussions of crossing him.

“You should soak a while longer. I’ll head back,” he instructed, his voice steady.

Sophie stood, ready to leave.

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