Chapter FifteenDAMIANI stood outside the penthouse like a fucking idiot.One second I was inside that overhyped party, trying to keep my cool, and the next—bam. Thrown out like trash. Literally dragged out by security while the guests looked on, laughing behind their fancy glasses of champagne.The music was still pounding from inside. I could hear it through the doors. Laughter. Toasts. Applause.And me?I was bleeding from my mouth.I wiped the corner of my lip with the back of my hand. It came away red.Not from a fight—nah, I hadn’t even gotten the chance to throw a punch. One of the guards had “escorted” me a little too enthusiastically. Fucker had a ring on.I laughed bitterly, pacing by the car like a madman. “This is insane,” I muttered to myself. “Fucking insane.”I could still see it—like a nightmare that wouldn’t stop replaying.Liana. In that goddamn silver dress. Arm linked with his.Ethan Wolfe.Billionaire. My boss. The man who shook my hand earlier tonight and said h
Chapter FourteenLIANA,The ballroom felt suffocating, like I was trapped inside a glass jar slowly filling with smoke, the air thick and stale with tension that clung to my skin and weighed down my limbs. Every breath I took was heavy, dragging at my chest as if the atmosphere itself had thickened into something almost tangible — something that pressed against me from every direction.Damien’s outburst still echoed in my ears, a sharp, venomous sting lingering like a dark stain spreading through the room. The words he’d spat so cruelly weren’t just sounds; they were poison, infecting every corner of my mind, refusing to fade no matter how hard I tried to push them away.Around me, laughter buzzed like nervous static—too loud, too forced. Smiles flickered like fragile paper flames, delicate and ready to snap under the slightest breeze. I could feel the weight of every gaze flickering toward me, sharp and expectant, as if I were some wild animal caught under a blinding spotlight, waiti
CHAPTER THIRTEEN LIANA, The script was in my hands. Signed. Sealed. Final. There was no going back now. I left with a silent nod, gripping the folder like it might explode if I loosened my hold. My heels clicked against marble as I walked back to my room. My breath felt trapped behind my ribs, and every step echoed with the weight of a decision that had never really been mine. Three pairs of eyes turned as walked along -house staff majorly. Curious. Wary. Respectful. But not warm. I didn’t say a word. Just kept walking until I reached the room that was supposed to be mine. Ours. A lie dressed up in gold and velvet. “Mom?” Emma’s voice was soft, breaking through the thick air like the gentle pull of a tide. I turned. She stood in the doorway in her tiny socks, curls wild from her nap, eyes round and worried. “What’s wrong?” I blinked, and forced a smile that didn’t reach my chest, let alone my heart. “Nothing.” “But—” “Nothing, Emma.” I bent and kissed her forehead
Chapter TwelveLIANA,It was the soft thump of plastic against my arm that roused me from sleep. The air still held the hush of early morning, and the muted light filtering through the curtains painted the walls in quiet gold. But the bed was no longer mine alone.I stirred, groggy, and felt the small weight of my daughter perched beside me."Mummy, it’s morning. Wake up," came her bright, impatient voice.Blinking into the light, I found Emma kneeling at the edge of the bed. She held her toy bunny in one hand and a pink plastic crown in the other, which she was now tapping against my shoulder with royal insistence. A crooked grin spread across her tiny face.“Your princess is here,” she declared with theatrical flair, chin tilted up, eyes sparkling with mischief.Despite the familiar heaviness that clung to my chest like wet wool, I smiled. Emma had a way of cutting through the fog, her laughter a kind of light I couldn’t find anywhere else. I reached out and pulled her close, her sm
Chapter Eleven LIANA I sat on the edge of the bed, fingers loosely woven in my lap, staring at the soft gray walls like they might offer answers. They didn’t. The silence here wasn’t peaceful—it was performative. Observant. Every tick of the antique clock on the mantle sounded like it belonged to someone else. Like I was living on borrowed time in a life that wasn’t mine. Everything about this place was immaculate. Too perfect. Too pristine. Even the flowers in the vase—white lilies with not a single petal out of place—looked like they’d been trained to bloom on command. It was the kind of beauty that didn’t breathe, that didn’t welcome. A museum display rather than a home. Lovely to look at, but sterile beneath the surface. I kept thinking about Emma. About her being alone in that carefully curated nursery—pastel-colored walls, hand-painted murals, and shelves filled with untouched toys. It was a room built for catalogues, not comfort. Did she wake and call for me? Did she dream
Chapter Ten LIANA, The man in the dark suit walked with a kind of purpose I couldn't imitate even if I tried. His shoes made barely a sound against the marble floors, yet each step echoed with the weight of authority. His back was straight, movements crisp, almost rehearsed. I wondered how long he’d been in this place—this estate that didn’t just feel like wealth, but dominance wrapped in marble and silence. We passed towering windows and framed oil paintings so regal they made my thrifted coat feel like a personal insult. Everything gleamed under the crystal chandeliers—cold, ordered, pristine. Not a speck out of place. As if the house was punishing any sign of real life. Eventually, he stopped before a tall, white door with gold detailing. With a soft click, he opened it and stepped aside. “This is the nursery,” he said, gesturing for me to enter. I hesitated on the threshold. I don’t know what I expected—a crib and some stuffed animals maybe. But this… this was an entire worl