CHAPTER 2

Catherine stumbled out of the stadium, her heart heavy with the crushing weight of betrayal. The sharp night air sliced through her skin, but it did nothing to numb the pain gnawing at her chest. Every step felt like a struggle, dragging her farther from the man she had given everything for—the man she once believed would be her forever. The lights from the stadium, once a symbol of hope and ambition, now felt distant, cold, and alien. The cheers of the crowd, the music, the lights—they were just background noise to the shattering reality that Liam, her Liam, had kissed another woman on stage.

Her world had shattered in an instant, and the pieces of it were now scattered in the faces of thousands of strangers. She didn’t know where she was going, but it didn’t matter. The streets stretched out before her, empty and vast, a reflection of how she felt inside. The echoes of the night—the cheers, the music, the light—belonged to someone else now, someone who still believed in dreams, someone who hadn’t been crushed by the man she had loved and sacrificed everything for.

She felt like a ghost, walking through a world she no longer recognized. She had given him ten years of her life. She had helped him achieve everything he ever dreamed of. And in return? He had discarded her like a worn-out toy. He had kissed Annie, the woman who had been living in the shadows of their relationship all along, and in that moment, Catherine knew she had been nothing more than a pawn in a game that was never hers to win.

The cold was nothing compared to the emptiness inside her. She tried to hold herself together, but the brokenness of it all kept pushing through, trying to swallow her whole. She couldn’t escape it.

Her feet carried her to a dimly lit bar at the end of the street, its flickering neon sign offering the faintest promise of warmth, of forgetting. She pushed the door open, and the stale air inside was a stark contrast to the crispness of the night. The bar was quiet, the few patrons scattered in their own worlds, oblivious to her pain. She walked up to the bar, her legs shaky, her mind clouded with alcohol and hurt.

"I’ll take a whiskey," Catherine said, her voice rough, barely above a whisper.

The bartender looked at her with something close to sympathy, but he didn’t ask any questions. He had seen enough broken people stumble through his door to know better.

She drank. And then she drank some more. Each glass, each shot, was an attempt to erase the raw ache in her chest. The alcohol burned as it slid down her throat, but it didn’t touch the void inside her. The ache in her chest remained, gnawing and relentless.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Liam—about the kiss. About Annie. She was nothing compared to her. Annie was everything she could never be—beautiful, desirable, someone who had always been part of Liam’s world, whether Catherine had known it or not.

She wasn’t just losing Liam. She was losing everything she had worked for, everything she had sacrificed. Her identity, her worth, had been so tied up in him. In them. And now that was all slipping away, like sand through her fingers.

“Ma’am, I think you’ve had enough,” the bartender said after a while, his voice gentle but firm.

Catherine didn’t even look at him. She just waved him off, her hand trembling as she reached for another drink. She didn’t want to be sober. She didn’t want to feel the reality of what had just happened. The world outside could wait. The truth could wait.

But then, something shifted. Something inside her—a flicker of clarity that cut through the haze of alcohol and anger. She could feel it—the pull of something beyond the glass in her hand. She wasn’t just losing herself. She was losing the last pieces of a life she had spent years building. And that realization, as painful as it was, started to wake her up.

With a deep sigh, Catherine pushed the glass away, her decision made. It was time to go. But as she fumbled through her purse, trying to pay for the drinks, the bartender’s worried glance caught her eye again. He didn’t want to see her go out there, to face the cold, the chaos, and the heartbreak. But he didn’t stop her. He couldn’t.

Catherine handed over the credit card, her hands unsteady as she did so. The transaction was quick, mechanical, but it felt like one more thing she had to do to keep going. To keep pretending. To keep living.

“Take care of yourself,” the bartender said softly as he handed the card back.

Catherine nodded absently, her mind already slipping back into the fog of her thoughts. She had to get out of there. She had to get away from the reality that had shattered everything she thought she knew about love, loyalty, and who she was.

When she stepped out onto the street, the chill hit her like a wave, and for a moment, she was briefly clear-headed. The fog lifted just enough to let her see the darkness around her.

But that moment of clarity was fleeting.

As she walked down the street, the sound of footsteps behind her made her pause. Four men. They were following her. She didn’t have to turn around to know what they wanted. Her heart skipped a beat, and her instincts screamed at her to run. But her legs were heavy, her body drained from the emotional toll of the night.

"Where you going, darling?" one of them called out, his voice low and leering. "All alone on a night like this?"

Catherine froze. She tried to keep walking, but her feet felt like they were stuck in cement. She could feel them closing in, the predatory looks in their eyes.

“Leave me alone,” she managed to say, but her voice was weak, unconvincing. The man didn’t listen.

The other men were already circling her, their movements deliberate, menacing. Catherine’s breath caught in her throat as she felt hands grabbing at her. The world seemed to close in on her, the streets empty, the air thick with fear. She struggled, trying to fight back, but she was too exhausted, too broken to resist.

Just when it felt like she might disappear into the nightmare of their hands, a car screeched to a halt in front of her. The headlights blazed, illuminating the attackers as they scattered into the night.

She didn’t move at first. She couldn’t. Her body trembled, too weak to stand, too terrified to breathe.

Then, from the car, a figure stepped out—a tall man with a calm, commanding presence. His assistant was already out, handling the attackers with an efficiency that spoke of power and authority. He didn’t waste time. He made the men vanish as easily as if they were nothing.

Catherine’s mind raced as she watched him approach. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, but she couldn’t look away from him.

He was someone new. Someone who had come out of nowhere, who had saved her without a word. Without asking.

"You're safe now," he said softly, his voice low, comforting.

Catherine didn’t know who he was, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. She was safe. For the first time that night, she felt a glimmer of relief.

The man helped her into the car, his movements gentle but firm. She didn’t resist. She couldn’t.

Once inside the car, she sat in silence, too exhausted to speak. The warmth of the interior, the hum of the engine, the feeling of safety that wrapped around her—it was almost too much. But before she could slip back into the haze of exhaustion, his voice broke through.

"Naomi Catherine," he said, his tone almost questioning. "I never thought we’d meet like this."

She looked up, her vision still blurry from the tears, the alcohol, and the overwhelming emotions of the night. But she couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say.

He turned toward her, his gaze steady and sure. "I helped you. But do you think you’ll agree to my terms?"

Catherine stared at him, confused, yet somehow drawn to him. She didn’t know what kind of man he was, but she knew this: he was someone who had the power to change everything.

And for better or worse, Catherine’s life had just taken a turn.