MMORPG: Birth of the World's Luckiest Player

The next morning, Willow woke early, while Marcus was still fast asleep beside her.

She lay quietly for a moment, her gaze lingering on his face, that familiar face she had thought about for so many years, and slowly, almost without realizing it, she found herself lost in it.

"You bad man," she whispered under her breath, her voice soft and faint. "I couldn’t escape you after all."

There was a strange sense of resignation in her heart, though it wasn’t bitter. The woman who had once claimed to hate men more than anything, who had guarded herself so fiercely, had fallen so easily in front of him. All the feelings she had tried to bury, to run from, had been far deeper than she ever dared admit.

When he held her, when he touched her without restraint, she had not truly wanted to resist. Beneath the shyness, beneath the embarrassment, there had only been a quiet willingness, and something even more undeniable than that.

Happiness.

To think she had become his woman in this way, and that he looked at her with such longing, such open affection. Lying here now in his arms, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling the steady warmth of the only man she had ever truly loved, she felt something she had never known before.

Safe, content and complete.

Almost without thinking, she leaned forward slightly and pressed a light, fleeting kiss to his lips.

"Ah..."

He stirred.

She froze instantly. His brow shifted, his breathing changed, and for a brief second it looked as though he might wake. Panic flickered through her like a spark. Afraid he might have caught her stealing that kiss, she quickly shut her eyes and stilled her breathing, pretending to be asleep.

Even after everything they had shared, being this close to him still made her shy.

Marcus woke slowly, his thoughts still clouded with sleep as he opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the woman in his arms, her delicate features relaxed, her beauty soft and unguarded in the quiet of the morning.

Even in stillness, she had a natural allure, something effortless and deeply captivating. It stirred something in him immediately. Morning always did that to a man.

Seeing her lying there so quietly, he tried to restrain himself, telling himself to let her rest. But then he noticed the faint flush on her cheeks, the subtle tension in her body, the way she seemed just a little too aware for someone truly asleep.

And then he felt it, her soft form pressed lightly against him, reacting in the smallest, unmistakable ways.

’So... you’re pretending.’

The realization made something in him shift. Without hesitation, he leaned down and captured her lips.

"Marcus, don’t—"

She startled as if just waking, but whatever protest she meant to give quickly dissolved into something softer. Her voice faded, and instead of pushing him away, she leaned into the kiss, her hands sliding up along his back, drawing herself closer to him without thinking.

"Still being naughty?" he murmured against her lips after a long moment. "Pretending to sleep like that?"

He held her close, his voice low and warm as he spoke, the words more teasing than accusing. If not for the lingering concern for her condition, the thought that she might still be too worn out, he would have lost himself completely in her again, chasing that same overwhelming closeness from the night before.

"Marcus... what about Snow..."

The mood shifted, just slightly.

They had been wrapped in each other, almost dizzy with it, but at the mention of that name, something more complicated slipped into the space between them.

"Willow, I’ll handle that. Don’t worry."

He answered quickly, cutting off the topic before it could deepen. This was the last thing he wanted to think about on a quiet, beautiful morning like this.

"Okay, Marcus. But don’t take too long. Snow has been heartbroken for a while. She can’t manage without you."

Her voice was gentle, without accusation and without doubt.

He blinked, caught off guard.

Willow was different from yesterday. There was no suspicion in her eyes now, no guarded distance. She simply looked at him, calm and steady, filled with a quiet, unwavering trust.

"Marcus, I believe you."

She took his hand in both of hers, her fingers soft against his, and spoke with quiet certainty.

He was stunned.

Her trust alone would have been surprising enough, but what unsettled him even more was the way she spoke about Snow, as if she had already accepted everything, as if she bore no resentment at all. Willow was in his arms, his woman now, and yet she was thinking about someone else’s pain.

"Willow..."

Emotion rose in his chest as he held her a little tighter. Just as he was about to speak, she asked softly:

"Marcus... is it Snow’s family? Are they the reason you had to separate?"

He stiffened slightly.

"How did you know?"

He had never told her the truth, never explained what had really happened between him and Snow. Yet she spoke as if she already understood everything. It left him both surprised and unsettled.

Had she figured it out on her own?

And if she had... then why had she come to confront him before?

Seeing the question in his eyes, Willow’s expression changed. A trace of hurt surfaced, quiet but unmistakable, and her gaze dimmed.

"Willow, what’s wrong?"

The sight of it tightened something in his chest, but he didn’t understand where it came from.

"Marcus," she began softly.

"My parents met in college. But my mother’s family was already declining, and my father’s family thought she wasn’t worthy of him. They opposed their relationship from the start."

Her voice remained steady, but her eyes began to glisten.

"And my father... he listened to them. He left my mother. Left me. He married a woman from a wealthy family instead."

She paused, her fingers tightening slightly around his.

"My mother couldn’t bear it. She fell into a deep depression. Later, she became ill... and she died while she was still young."

"Willow..."

Everything became clear.

The reason she hated men so deeply, the reason she kept her distance, the quiet bitterness she carried, it all traced back to this.

And yet, even with that past, she had still allowed herself to fall for him.

The thought made his feelings for her deepen even further.

"Marcus, you and Snow come from completely different worlds. From the moment you started dating, I was worried. I thought her family would never accept you. Families like that can be... ruthless."

She looked at him quietly, her voice calm but certain.

"But I also saw how close you were with her brother. I thought maybe, with his support, things would work out. That’s why I never said anything."

"Marcus, I know how much you care about Snow."

Her gaze softened, though her cheeks slowly began to color.

"But when I heard you broke up... and that you had fallen out with her brother too, I understood right away. Her family must have forced your hand. They made you let her go."

Her expression tightened slightly, a hint of anger surfacing.

"Those kinds of families can be cruel."

She had seen through everything.

Without asking a single question, she had pieced it all together, understanding his situation more clearly than anyone else ever had.

But as she spoke, her face grew warmer, her composure slipping just a little, revealing a trace of her own vulnerability.

A year ago, Marcus had only had eyes for Snow. No other woman could reach him, not even someone like Willow, who possessed a beauty and presence impossible to ignore. Unable to endure her feelings, unable to bear loving him in silence, she had gone to England, hoping distance would dull what she felt.

It hadn’t.

If anything, the distance had only made it stronger.

When she returned and learned that he and Snow had separated, she had used it as an excuse to approach him, to confront him. But the truth was much simpler.

She just wanted to see him again.

"Willow... am I a complete failure?"

The memory of Snow’s father, of the pressure and threats, still weighed heavily on him. Without realizing it, he began to tell her everything, about his mother’s illness, about the danger he had been in, about the ultimatum he had been forced to accept.

"Marcus."

She listened without interruption, then reached for his hand again, holding it tightly before leaning in to kiss him gently.

"This isn’t your fault."

Her voice was steady, filled with quiet conviction.

"No matter how capable you are, without power or connections, you can’t fight a family like that. Anyone in your position would have been forced into the same choice."

She paused, her gaze sharpening slightly.

"But this is also where you were wrong. Why didn’t you tell Snow the truth? Why did you choose to carry everything alone and let both of you suffer?"

"Willow..."

Her words struck deep. There was no one more perceptive than Willow, no one who understood things so clearly, so completely.

"Marcus, you need to win Snow back."

She said it without hesitation.

"Of course."

There was no doubt in his voice. He pulled her closer, holding her firmly as he nodded. His resolve was absolute.