Sophie Evans
I barely caught my breath, my chest rising and falling rapidly from the sprint I had just taken. My fingers clenched the fabric of his expensive suit, desperate, trembling. But as soon as Liam Devereux turned to face me, I almost let go.
His eyes.
Those same piercing blue eyes I used to stare into for hours. But now, they were colder, sharper, like icicles waiting to pierce through my skin. He didn’t just look at me; he looked through me.
Recognition flashed in them for the briefest moment. And then nothing.
His gaze turned hard, his expression unreadable.
“What the hell do you want?” His voice was deep, commanding, the voice of the man I once knew but now barely recognized.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. The words I had rehearsed over and over vanished from my mind.
Behind me, someone grabbed my arm.
“Ma’am, you have to leave now!” a man’s voice said urgently. I turned to see Liam’s chauffeur, his nervous gaze darting between us and the growing crowd of reporters rushing toward us. “The press will be all over this in seconds. You don’t want to be in the middle of it.”
I hesitated.
I had expected hostility from Liam, but this? This was different. This wasn’t just indifference. This was hatred.
Why did he hate me?
Shouldn’t it be the other way around? Shouldn’t I be the one glaring at him like he had just ripped my heart out? Because he had. He was the one who betrayed me.
And yet, here I was. Looking desperate. Looking like a fool.
I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening on his suit for a fraction of a second before I finally let go.
Maybe I shouldn’t have come. Maybe Benita was wrong.
“Tell me what you want,” Liam demanded, his voice cutting through my thoughts.
I hesitated, staring up at him. He was still impossibly handsome—sharp jawline, neatly styled dark hair, broad shoulders in that perfectly tailored suit. He looked like he belonged in a world so far from mine.
The world of billionaires. The world of power. I didn’t belong here. Not anymore.
“I—” My voice caught in my throat.
This was harder than I thought it would be.
Liam hadn’t kept in touch. Not with me. Not with my brother, Lucas, who used to be his best friend. If they had still spoken, he would’ve known why I was here. He would’ve known that Lucas was lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life.
I inhaled sharply. If he had forgotten me, then fine. But had he really forgotten Lucas too?
I wanted to be strong. I wanted to hold my ground. But the weight of everything, Luca’s hospital bills, my dwindling savings, the fear of losing my only family made my shoulders sag.
I shouldn’t have come to him.
I should have called my friends in London and asked for help. But five hundred thousand dollars was too much money. No one I knew had that kind of money to spare.
We had just graduated from university. Everyone was struggling to get their lives together. I barely had a hundred thousand dollars saved for my bookshop. I was still nine hundred thousand short.
I took a step back, my fingers curling into fists.
Maybe I should go to Lucas’s apartment. Maybe he had savings. Maybe there was something, anything, I could sell.
I turned around just as the reporters caught sight of us.
“Who is she?” one of them yelled.
“Is she an ex-girlfriend?” another shouted.
The flashes from the cameras blinded me. Panic surged through me. I tried to shield my face, but it was too late. The camera had already flashed. Before I could react, someone grabbed me roughly.
I gasped, my body jerking backward. My heart leapt into my throat as I stumbled, my heels scraping against the pavement. And then, everything blurred.
The sound of a roaring engine. The press screaming.
A yelp escaped my lips as I was pulled into the car, my body colliding with something firm, warm.
I blinked rapidly, trying to understand what had just happened.
I was in a car. A sleek, black Mercedes Benz. The driver was already maneuvering us through the chaotic scene outside.
I turned sharply to see Liam right beside me in the car. He was sitting next to me, his jaw clenched, his eyes burning with anger.
He looked at me like I was a problem he had to solve. Like I was an inconvenience.
I swallowed, gripping the leather seat beneath me.
Then, his voice sliced through the heavy silence.
“What the hell are you doing here?”