The Valencia was too warm. Too opulent. Too staged, like every other hotel my father liked to conduct his negotiations in. A place with velvet walls and soft lighting designed to soothe egos and soften threats.
It didn’t work on me.
I arrived ten minutes early, because I needed to know what I was walking into—and more importantly, who.
My father was already seated in the corner booth, posture stiff in his perfect navy suit, like even he couldn’t quite pretend this wasn’t yet another elaborate test disguised as a peace offering. He didn’t look up when I sat down.
“So,” I said, peeling off my gloves slowly, “are you going to tell me who she is this time, or are we playing the full suspense-drama this round?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he took a sip of his espresso—too bitter, no sugar, the same as always—and glanced out the window like he hadn’t orchestrated every single detail of this moment.
“You said this is the last one,” I added when the silence stretched. “Let’s not make it theatrical.”
He finally looked at me.
“I meant what I said,” he said quietly. “You meet her. You don’t like her? We drop it. I’ll stop interfering. For good.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And you just found her out of the goodness of your heart?”
“I found her because the alternative is me dragging your name through another year of unaligned partnerships and unstable optics. This—this could actually be good for you.”
“You said that about every single one of them.”
“Yes. But this time you won’t be able to dismiss her so easily.”
That got my attention.
Because despite everything, my father never lied. Manipulated, yes. Framed things to his advantage, always. But when he made promises, he delivered. And he wouldn’t speak with this much certainty unless he thought he had leverage.
Or worse—ammunition.
I didn’t like the way he looked at me when he said it.
“I’m not in the mood for riddles,” I said sharply. “Who is she?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and changed the subject with surgical precision.
“What’s the status with the Sinclaire girl?”
I blinked. “Ava.”
He gave a slight nod. “Is she coming back home willingly, or do I need to step in?”
I stared at him.
“She’s not a deal,” I said slowly. “She’s not something to be handed off like a portfolio. If she wants to go back, she’ll tell you herself.”
His jaw tightened.
“And if she doesn’t?”
“Then she doesn’t.”
He leaned forward, voice lowering. “If I’m the one who has to take care of it, Liam, it won’t go as smoothly.”
I let the words hang there, the implication slicing clean through the air.
“Is that a threat?”
He looked me dead in the eye. “It’s a reminder. You’ve always relied on someone else to clean up after you. I assumed by now, you’d finally have the spine to make the hard decisions on your own.”
The breath I drew was slow, deliberate. Dangerous.
But just as I was about to respond—just as something inside me coiled with the sharp, familiar taste of fury—the doors to the lounge opened behind him.
And a woman walked in.
She was alone. Small. Dressed in ivory. Her hair was pulled back in that effortless way that takes a full-time stylist to achieve. She scanned the room like she wasn’t sure what she was looking for—and then her eyes landed on me.
And she smiled.
It was instinctual, radiant, the kind of smile people practiced in mirrors but she had always done naturally.
She stepped toward me with a quick, hopeful breath and before I could stand or react or even breathe, she was wrapping her arms around my shoulders.
“Liam,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “God, you look exactly the same.”
The perfume hit me first.
Sweet. Warm. Something soft and floral I hadn’t smelled in years.
And just like that—everything came back.
The summer I loved her. The winter she left.
The shattered version of myself I’d buried under suits and mergers and power plays so that no one could ever hurt me like that again.
I pulled back slowly and looked at her. Really looked.
And it hit me like a punch to the chest.
Lindsey.
My first love. The girl who said forever, then disappeared. The one my father paid off. The one who took the money.
And now, she was standing here, smiling like none of it had ever happened.
Like she hadn’t ruined me.