CHAPTER 13

Liana's POV 

I knew right away that it was from him the second I saw the flowers.

Black tulips.

There was only a single individual within this city, dare I say in this entire world knew I have a affinity for black tulips. Not that I ever publicly professed it or proclaimed it. But that once, several years ago, I had stepped before a florist on downtown's street and mumbled in hushed tone how unusual and strangely lovely they were. He had overheard me, despite the fact I hadn't wanted him to.

Dominic had always possessed a talent for noticing the things you never spoke out loud.

The bouquet sat in a slender, obsidian glass vase on the hall table, sophisticated, dark and somehow threatening in its silence. There was no note, but I didn't need one. The silence was louder than anything he could have put into words.

This was his game and I was not going to respond.

Not this time.

I crept around the vase, slowly, touching the flowers with my fingers. They were cold and smooth, like wounds you don't know until someone touches them. I did not throw them away. That would be a such a waste, and I wasn't one to waste.

I have had it in that vase for two days, indecisive of how to respond.

Then an idea clicked. Post a picture. 

Not for him. Or so I kept telling myself.

I slumped on the couch that morning, legs tangled under me, scrolling through elegantly trimmed snippets of lives that were brighter than mine. Until I came across one photo mum had snapped me the week before. I was smiling, head thrown back, hand twisted in my curls. Unposed and carefree.

I looked at it for a while.

So I put it up with nothing. With the caption:

“Some men confuse strategy with obsession. I wish them healing.”

I knew he'd see it. I knew he'd read it and I was sure he would read the room.

He never would actually tell me that he saw it. That would incriminate him. But way in the distance of a shut-down screen of a room that I once knew all too intimately, he'd pause. Zoom in. Try to discover who caused me to laugh like this.

Good.

I tossed my phone over the side of the couch and fell back, wheezing so loudly it looked like something exited my chest and didn't return. The apartment was still, filled with late morning quiet, the sort that single mothers always felt but never quite saw. The sort of quiet that never lingered. 

"Mama!"

Something landed on me like a laughing cannonball. I had just opened my eyes in time to grab two pigtails and a bright pink sweatshirt as they went whizzing by.

"Cam!" I laughed, grabbing her before we both went crashing off the couch. "Sweetheart, what did we agree about sneaking up on me like that?"

She grinned, unperturbed. "Surprise attacks are the best."

I raised an eyebrow. "You've been watching those spy cartoons again, haven't you?"

She laughed and curled up against me like a cat. "Just for inspiration."

"Oh, strategic, eh?" I teasingly elbowed the side of her. She screamed and squirmed away. "Well, Agent Cam, I'll have to revoke your clearance."

Too late. I have already broken into your heart," she puffed dramatically, tapping her small fingers on my chest. I cupped them in my hands, kissing them. "You little thief.".

"Criminally cute," she smiled and showed teeth.

I laughed again, but this time something snapped in me. Something small and fragile. This kid, with her cartoon mind and huge emotions, was my whole world.

She took a step back and tilted her head. "You look nice today."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Like a secret agent princess."

"Well, that's strangely specific."

She smiled. "That's what Ava said the woman on her daddy's phone yesterday resembled."

I nodded, smile wavering by an eyelash. "Oh?"

She nodded factually. "She said her daddy was showing her pictures of this woman wearing a shiny outfit and that she looked like a spy. But I said my mommy more beautiful."

I swallowed hard against the lump that had formed in my throat. "That's because you're biased."

"What's biased?"

"It means you love me too much to be fair."

She raised an eyebrow, considering. "But I think I love you just the right amount mama."

God! My heart. This little girl with a sweet mouth was my world. Sometimes it was hard to believe that the worst thing that has happened to me was the one who had gifted me the best thing in my life. 

How do you love a child and hate the father? 

I hugged her again, nipping the side of her head. "Then I guess I'm the luckiest woman in the world."

We sat like that for a moment, still and surrounded by the kind of peace I'd been searching for years. Her fingers automatically fidgeted with a loose thread on my sweater as her mind wandered off. I caught the change before I heard it. The tension in her body. The slow-down of her breathing.

"Can I ask you something?" she whispered.

I looked down at her. Something about the tone in her voice made my heart skip a beat. "Of course, baby. You can tell me anything."

She faltered. And that was enough to let me know this had nothing to do with cartoons or snacks.

Her little fingers tied the thread into a knot before she finally met my gaze, eyes too big and too serious for a child her age.

"It's just… in school today, the girls were talking about their dads. They told me what their dads do. Ava said hers builds houses. Zoey's dad fly planes. Harper said hers is a dentist, and I think is gross."

I smiled gently. "Teeth are important."

"Still gross."

Fair.

She moved again, eyes on the floor. "And I didn't have anything to say."

The silence which followed was like thunder trapped behind glass. She looked up again, lower lip shaking a bit. "And I was wondering..." I was sitting there holding my breath. "May I ask you something else now?"

I nodded uncertainly. "Of course. Go on."

She placed her hand on the top of mine. Warm. Little and longing.

"Who is my daddy?"

The question hit me like a cold slap. I felt like I was falling through a trapdoor I didn’t see coming.

But I should’ve seen it. I should have know this moment would come. 

She was old enough now. Asking bigger questions, seeing the world with more than wonder. She needed anchors… She needed names. Tales to fill up the holes she was starting to find in herself.

I drew my breath open. Then shut it again. Then fought for air.

She observed me with an intense interest, held back with a patience that shattered my heart.

The worst part was, I didn’t have a clean answer. It was definitely one to ruin her hopes. 

My silence must have been doing some explaining it seemed, because she gazed downward once more, barely louder than a whisper.

"Is it a bad secret?"

I shocked. "No, baby. No, it's just. complicated."

She nodded seriously. "Like the type that causes grown ups to wisper a lot."

"Yes," I whispered. "Like that."

We sat in the quiet, her small hands still holding mine, and I was scared I would strangle them from the agony of it all.

And then she said out of nowhere, "I saw your flowers."

I blinked. "You did?"

"Yeah. The black ones near the hallway. They're kind of creepy but kind of pretty too."

I swallowed hard. "That's precisely what they are."

"Did a secret agent bring them to you?"

I laughed at her childishness . "Something like that Cam."

She gazed at me once more, smarter than she had any business being. "Does he like you?"

I stopped in my tracks, thinking of answer but before I could come up with one, a gentle ping sounded from the phone on the table.

"Mom, this one has your picture on it!" She said as she picked up the phone. 

I rolled my head lazily, half-closing my eyes. "Huh?"

"This post… it has your face."

That sat me up a little bit. "Let me see, it's probably the blogs."

Cam flipped the screen in my direction, but before I had a chance to read anything, she started sounding it out with a smug little grin on her face, like reading a bedtime story. She was becoming a better reader, these days she would hardly let you read your messages yourself. 

"It says… 'Another climb, another… I don't know this word mum. Wonder how many more CEOs she has to sleep with before…'

I snatched the tablet out of her grasp so fast she squealed.

"Mom!"

My face was like a stone. I glared at the screen, reading the post all the way through.

A blurry close up photo from one of my old press conferences, where I'd stood next to a man who's now married to someone else. My name captioned. My face underlined in red. The caption was toxic:

@TheTeaSpillChronicles: Another climb, another conquest. Wonder how many more CEOs she has to sleep with before she has no more corporations to 'invest ' in. Behind every strong woman is a bed she didn't make alone.

Stay tuned for Part 2, sources say her next victim has a private jet and an even dirtier baby mama tale.

Everything in me froze.

The pulse in my ear, the tightness in my chest, the way my fingers had closed tighter around the tablet as if I could crush the dirt right through the glass.

Who the fuck did this?