Liam Devereux
Sophie stood there, tears streaking her cheeks, looking as fragile as the past she had shattered. Seeing her like this, broken, vulnerable, desperate, should have softened something in me. It should have made me remember the girl I once knew, the one I used to protect without hesitation.
But instead, I felt something else entirely. Resentment.
The moment her eyes met mine, she stiffened. Panic flashed across her face, and she turned to leave.
I grabbed her wrist before she could take another step.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I asked, my voice low and calm.
She struggled against my grip, but I held firm.
“Let me go, Liam.”
I ignored her protest and looked her straight in the eyes. “Why were you crying?”
Her lips parted, then pressed into a tight line. “It’s none of your business.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It became my business the moment you asked for my help.”
Her eyes darkened, and she yanked her arm free. “Well, I don’t need your help anymore.”
She tried to move past me, but I stepped in her way. This time, instead of grabbing her wrist, I wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
“What happened?” I demanded.
She sucked in a sharp breath. For a second, I thought she might break down again, but instead, she took a step back, lowering her gaze.
A long, tense silence stretched between us before she finally spoke.
“It’s Lucas,” she admitted. “He’s in the hospital and he needs a transplant.”
I tilted my head, watching her closely.
“How much?”
She hesitated before whispering the amount. “Five hundred thousand dollars.”
When she finally glanced up, her eyes searched my face for any kind of reaction. But I gave her none. I simply smirked.
Her brows furrowed in disbelief. “You think this is funny?”
I shrugged. “No. Just interesting.”
She took a step back, her hands balling into fists.“Don’t worry about me asking for help,” she muttered. “I’ll look elsewhere.”
She turned and started walking away. I let her go. For a few moments, I simply stood there, watching her. I knew exactly how this would play out. She would fight. She would resist. But in the end, she would have no choice. And I wasn’t about to let her go without making her pay for the past.
Just as she reached the street, I spoke. “I’ll help.”
She froze. Slowly, she turned to face me, her expression caught between hope and suspicion.
“Really?” she breathed.
I nodded. “Yes. I’ll give you the money.”
She let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her face.
“But,” I added, watching her closely, “I have a condition.”
Her entire body tensed. “What do you want in return?”
I let the smirk return to my lips as I took a slow step toward her.
“You.”
She flinched as if I had struck her. “Excuse me?” she whispered.
I reached for her, closing the distance between us. “I want you, Sophie.”
Her jaw dropped. She stared at me in stunned silence, her expression shifting from disbelief to anger to something close to horror.
She had come to me out of desperation, thinking she could keep things on her terms.
But she should have known better. She should have known that with me, there were always terms.
“For three months.”