Married a Secret Billionaire
Chapter 1951

Morpheus' gradual recovery unfolded day by day. Capitalizing on the sunny weather, he meticulously cleaned his home, both inside and out.

However, in the process, he encountered an array of poignant memories tied to a particular individual-a bunch of dried flowers, a half-eaten box of chocolates, a stack of prescriptions...

His heart suddenly clenched with pain.

Persephone cherished the streets of Flinge, particularly the unknown little colorful and vibrant flowers blooming by the roadside. She claimed these flowers were never seen in Centrolis. After confirming they were unattended, she secretly plucked a bunch and turned them into dried flowers. Each day, she would beam at the flowers with a bright smile.

With a penchant for sweets, especially after he scolded her, she would guilt-trip him with her big teary eyes, prompting him to feel he had been too harsh. Consequently, he would regularly buy her chocolates. There were limited dessert options in Flinge, and this brand of chocolate stood out as the best.

Concerned when he got injured, she stayed up all night writing prescriptions, asserting that they were secret formulas from Southeast Aciatic and highly effective for bruises...

As Morpheus ruminated on her, memories of her appearance and personality crystallized in his mind, yet his vision began to blur.

He chuckled, muttering inwardly, 'Silly girl... She even knows secret recipes from Southeast Aciatic.'

After the chuckle, he suddenly felt a cool drop on the back of his hand.

Abruptly, urgent knocking interrupted Morpheus's thoughts. He swiftly gathered everything and opened the door to a sly, smiling face.

"Bro!" Fat Jim slapped his chest. "Wow, you're looking stronger!"

Morpheus's gaze dimmed. He said nothing, just stepping aside to let him in.

Once Fat Jim entered, he started surveying the room-boxing gloves, punching bags, and training equipment in abundance. However, the dried flowers peeking out behind the cabinet clashed with the room's masculine vibe.

He smirked, speculating about the potential connection between the man who wanted Morpheus dead and the owner of these dried flowers. Nevertheless, he remained indifferent to their love triangles or quadrangles. The cash he held was the most tangible thing.

Fat Jim paused, reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small dark vial. "Take this before next week's match."

Morpheus was taken aback. He knew what was in it. Fat Jim had forced it on him before. Despite Fat Jim's persistence, it was futile as he was physically too weak. After Morpheus firmly refused, Fat Jim never dared to mention it again. Hence, Fat Jim harbored complex feelings, wanting to exploit him but also resenting him.

Fat Jim shifted his gaze. "I know you disdain winning matches this way, but think about it. Who's your opponent next week? That person is more ruthless than Louis!" "I've faced much tougher opponents," Morpheus said nonchalantly, adjusting the bandage around his wrist. "I'm still standing here in front of you, aren't I?" "Why are you so stubborn?" Fat Jim looked pained. "In our world, fists don't have eyes. There are no rules in these matches-kill or be killed!"

"I know."

"Everyone's on something. Why aren't you?"

"I don't like this dirty stuff!"

"You..."

Fat Jim glared at him with a barely noticeable smirk. He placed the bottle on the table, knowing it was up to Morpheus whether he took it or not.

He knew Morpheus wouldn't. This banned substance was highly dangerous, causing fighters to get overstimulated during matches. Once, someone had taken it and killed their opponent in just three punches.

While it brought substantial gains, it also brought severe physical harm. They would sacrifice their health for the latter half of their lives. After 35, their entire being would fall apart.

This was why Morpheus was an exception in the underground arena-he never used prohibited drugs, never relied on their effects, yet still managed to win brilliantly.

His status as the slayer in the boxing ring was unshakable.

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