Ch51 - Don’t make this harder

Violet sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, nodding when Julian told her to wait.

As she watched him walk away with Lydia, a faint unease coiled in her chest. Something about Lydia’s last glance — that smug, challenging look — made her stomach twist.

After a few minutes, she decided to get up and head to the restroom. The restaurant wasn’t crowded, and the hallway leading to the washrooms was quiet and dim — anyone walking through stood out immediately.

When she came out, she froze.

Standing just a few feet away was him.

Liam.

Her ex.

He didn’t look as cocky as he used to — not broke, but definitely rougher. The dark circles under his eyes and the sharp, bitter glint in them made him look almost unrecognizable. Violet instinctively took half a step back until her shoulder brushed the wall.

But his gaze locked onto her and didn’t let go.

Of course he came striding straight toward her, blocking her path. “What, can’t even say hi now? Guess having a rich boyfriend makes you too good for people like me, huh?”

Her face stayed cold. “There’s nothing for us to talk about. Do yourself a favor and walk away before I call someone.”

“Oh, listen to you,” he sneered. “What, this your restaurant now? Or is it your rich boyfriend’s too?”

That too made her jaw tighten — he was referring to the bar incident, when he’d made a scene at one of Julian’s places and got thrown out.

“You don’t wanna leave? Fine. Then I’ll leave.” She moved to step around him, but he shifted, blocking her again, his tone turning ugly.

“Gotta admit, though… you clean up nice,” he said, his eyes dragging shamelessly from her face to her collarbone — lower.

Violet’s voice sharpened. “What do you want, Liam? We’ve been done for a while now. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“DON’T make this harder?” he echoed, a bitter laugh bubbling up. “You already made it harder. You think you can screw up my life and just walk away like nothing happened?”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” she said tightly. “We haven’t spoken since that night outside the hotel.” Her eyes flicked down the hall, hoping a waiter or anyone would come by.

Liam barked a laugh. “OH, cut the act. My business — everything I built this past year — went down the drain overnight. The day after I went to that bar. You expect me to believe that’s a coincidence? You or your rich boyfriend pull some strings, didn’t you? You ruin me just because I said a few drunk words about you?”

He stepped closer, anger rolling off him like heat. “Guess he’s got power, huh? Must feel good — dumping me and finding yourself a nice shiny meal ticket.”

“I don’t even know what business you’re talking about,” she snapped. “And maybe try getting proof before you throw around accusations.”

She moved one hand behind her, fumbling to unlock her phone. Her fingers trembled, but she managed to tap the screen and start a call — she didn’t even care who it went to.

But he noticed.

That tiny electronic tone as the call connected was enough to set him off. His eyes flared. “YOU bitch — trying to set me up again?!”

He lunged forward, grabbing her arm.

Violet jerked back, struggling, but he was stronger — rougher. He yanked her around, twisting her wrist to pry the phone from her grip. She gasped in pain as he forced her fingers open, snatching the phone away.

Then, with a snarl, he slammed it to the ground.

The sharp crack of glass echoed down the empty hallway — the screen shattered instantly. The phone was dead.

Violet was shaking all over. Her hands were covered in red marks where he’d grabbed her, her voice trembling. “YOU’ve lost your mind!”

“Yeah?” Liam barked, jabbing a finger at her. “Damn right I have. You ruined my life—so don’t expect to walk away smiling. My business is gone, my reputation’s trashed—I’ve got nothing left but time. So guess what? I’m gonna use it on you.”

Her pulse spiked. This wasn’t just anger — he’d snapped. And it hit her then: she’d been sitting alone long enough that Julian must’ve noticed she was gone by now. He had to. Please, she prayed silently, please realize something’s wrong.

Just then, the heavy smoke door at the end of the hall creaked open.

Someone walked in — a woman. She froze the moment she saw them: Violet pinned against the wall, Liam looming over her, the floor littered with broken glass. Her eyes darted between them, clearly unsure whether to step in.

Violet seized the chance, her voice raw with panic. “Miss—please, help me! This man—”

Before she could finish, Liam’s hand clamped over her mouth, crushing the rest of her words into muffled whimpers. His arm locked around her waist, pulling her tight against him.

“Sorry,” he said smoothly to the stranger, “she’s my girlfriend. We’re just having a fight. You don’t need to get involved.”

Violet’s body twisted against his grip, her wrists pinned, half of her face buried in his palm. Her lungs burned — she could barely breathe. Her wide eyes pleaded with the woman, begging her not to leave.

The woman hesitated, frozen between belief and doubt… then, after a few seconds of internal war, she turned, opened the door, and bolted out.

The door slammed shut behind her.

The hallway went dead quiet.

Violet’s heart sank, but she didn’t stop struggling. Liam shifted behind her — she felt him reach for something, fumbling at his jacket pocket. A moment later, the icy kiss of metal brushed her throat.

Her breath hitched. She didn’t have to look to know it was a knife.

Her body went rigid. She didn’t dare move — even the smallest twitch could end it.

Seeing she’d gone still, Liam loosened his grip slightly, his voice low and cold against her ear. “Relax. I’m not gonna kill you. I just want what’s fair — an apology. I want that rich boyfriend of yours to get down on his knees and admit what he did. Then you can go.”

Violet forced her jaw to steady. “If it’s money you want, he might give you that. But kneel? That’s never gonna happen.”

Liam laughed softly, the blade grazing her skin as it slid upward. “No confidence, huh? Maybe he would. Maybe he’d beg for you. I mean… who’d wanna see a pretty face like yours get ruined?”

The knife pressed just hard enough to sting. Violet squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her voice to stay calm.“If you think hurting me will get you what you want, you’re wrong. He won’t come running—men like him swap women like shirts. All you’ll get is a prison sentence.”

The blade paused. Then he chuckled. “You’ve got a point.”

But before relief could even form in her chest, he added, “Still… I’m kinda curious what his face’ll look like when he sees this. Don’t you wanna know how much you really mean to him? Think of it as me doing you a favor.”

Her whole body burned, sweat cold on her skin. She swallowed hard, the edge of the knife so close she could feel her pulse beating against it.

“Cat got your tongue?” he taunted, gripping her chin and forcing her head to the side. “What happened to that sharp mouth of yours, huh? Oh… that’s a pretty neck.”

Suddenly, the door moved again — just a faint click, like it had been nudged by a breeze.

Liam’s head snapped up. The knife trembled in his hand.

The blade slipped.

A thin line of fire cut across Violet’s skin in her neck. For a split second it felt cold, then came the sting — hot, wet, and sharp. It wasn’t deep, but it was enough to make her whole body seize in terror.

Liam’s attention was locked on the door now. His muscles went rigid, his arm still around her but tense, ready.

Violet stayed still, letting him pull her backward step by step. Her eyes flicked toward the door — it shook again, slightly harder this time.

“WHO’s there?!” Liam roared, voice cracking. “If you’ve got the balls, come out! Stop fucking hiding!”