Chapter Twenty-Three: The Door

Sarah’s breath caught as she pulled away, her hand trembling against the balcony’s cold railing. What am I doing? she scolded herself, her heart a wild mess of jealousy, longing, and shame.

But before she could step back into the light of the gala, the sound of heels clicked sharply against the marble floor. A honeyed, feminine voice cut through the night air.

“Liam… I’ve been looking for you.”

The woman’s silhouette emerged, sleek gown clinging to her every curve, diamonds glittering under the chandeliers. She didn’t just look at Liam; she devoured him with her eyes. And then she leaned close, far too close and whispered into his ear. Sarah couldn’t hear the words, but the tone alone was enough to tell her. It wasn’t just flirtation. It was a promise. A threat. A hunger.

Sarah’s chest constricted, and the fire in her stomach curled into something ugly. Why does it matter? Why should I care? He’s not mine. Yet her eyes burned at the sight, and she hated herself for the twisting, green knot of jealousy clawing at her insides.

But Liam didn’t flinch. His jaw tightened, his hand flexing at his side as though resisting every urge to throw the woman off him. Then, as if sensing Sarah’s unraveling, his gaze flicked toward her, sharp, commanding, protective.

In the space of a heartbeat, everything shifted. Sarah barely registered it. One moment she was standing there, frozen between fury and despair; the next, strong hands had guided her into the shadows. She hadn’t even seen the butler until then, the tall, silent figure already waiting, as though Liam had anticipated this moment all along.

“Keep her safe,” Liam’s voice was low but lethal, meant only for his most trusted man. And then, without another glance back, he turned to face the woman who purred his name again, like a cat toying with prey.

Sarah tried to protest, to demand an explanation, but the butler’s hand was firm on her arm, ushering her away from the noise, the music, the perfume-thick air of the gala.

Dark corridors blurred past. Then came silence.

When she blinked again, Sarah found herself standing inside a massive room, so large the air felt cavernous, swallowing her whole. The lights were soft, golden. The furniture elegant, untouched. And she was alone.

Her pulse raced. Her palms itched with confusion.

She should have run. She should have screamed. But instead, curiosity clawed its way past her fear.

A single door at the far end stood slightly ajar, as though waiting for her.

Her feet moved before her mind could stop them. She reached out, fingertips brushing the polished wood, and pushed.

The sight that met her eyes stole the air from her lungs.

Her hand trembled as she pushed the door wider. It creaked softly, betraying her intrusion, but curiosity outweighed fear. She stepped inside and froze.

The room was nothing like the opulent suite she had woken in. This one was darker, more intimate, the air thick with the scent of leather and something sharper… something that made her skin prickle.

A grand mahogany desk stood at the center, and behind it, portraits. Not of landscapes or families, but of people. Beautiful women, painted and photographed, their faces intense, their gazes following her. Some wore gowns. Some wore almost nothing at all.

Sarah’s heart pounded harder. Why are these here?

Her eyes darted lower and then she saw it.

Against one wall, discreetly hidden behind velvet curtains, was a chair. No, not just a chair. It was too elaborate. Dark leather, polished steel buckles, restraints built into the arms. The memory of yesterday, Liam strapping her to the cold OR table, his tongue burning paths across her skin hit her so violently she staggered back.

Oh my God.

Her body flushed, shivers running wild as shame and desire tangled into one. It felt forbidden just to be standing there. Wrong. Sinful. Dangerous.

And yet her pulse screamed with something else. Longing.

She pressed a hand to her lips, desperate to quiet her own ragged breathing.

But then, a shadow moved.

She wasn’t alone.

Her gaze snapped to the far corner, where the dim light barely touched. For a moment, she thought it was her imagination, until she caught the unmistakable sound of a low exhale. Someone was there. Watching.

Her stomach dropped. The walls closed in.

And just before she could flee, the door behind her clicked shut.