Share

02

Author: Olly Dy
last update Last Updated: 2025-07-04 21:19:50

Liam's POV

My eyes cracked open to a dead room, sticky with sweat and stale sex. The sheets beneath me were crumpled, stained, and cold.

The stranger was gone.

No goodbye. No note. Just....gone.

The clock blinked 6:47 AM. My skull throbbed like a jackhammer was stuck inside it. I stumbled out of bed, legs still weak, my body aching in the most humiliatingly satisfying places.

I didn’t even have time to process it before panic set in.

Today was-

Shit.

The engagement. My birthday!.

My life falling apart in a three-piece suit.

I took the fastest shower of my existence, scrubbing every inch of him off me, but the scent still lingered a little, coffee, rain, and sweat.

I rinsed, dressed, and snuck out of the hotel with the speed of someone escaping a crime scene.

Thankful for having my wallet intact, I took a cab and got home.

I crept up the stairs like a thief. Opened my bedroom door, only to be greeted by streamers, champagne bottles, and staff with party hats yelling, "Surprise!"

My temples nearly split in half from the noise.

"Look who came back." my father’s voice cut through the crowd like a blade. "Do try to act sober in the next hour, Liam. This engagement is not a joke."

He stepped forward, tall and iron-faced. The same glare that had haunted my childhood.

"I-" My voice was gravel. "Father, just listen. I don’t know this woman. Can’t we push this? Or cancel it? Or-"

"No," he said coldly. "You’ll marry Avery Maddox, and that is final. The Maddox name will boost our holdings in West Ark. You were born to serve this legacy, not chase irrational feelings of love."

I clenched my fists. There was no winning with him. He always had to be right.

~

I was lost in thought in the middle of the living room, it had been picked and prepped with lush birthday decorations for me, and people were wine-ing and dining.

Whilst, I, yours truly, was still suffering from a hangover headache.

And my ass was still sore, aching, flushing my cheeks whenever the memory of last night creeped into my thoughts.

"I think she's here."

I heard people whisper.

I looked up, already painfully guessing whom they were talking about.

The double doors creaked open, and in came Avery.

She was dressed like springtime elegance, soft pastels, a smile that tried too hard. My stomach turned and I almost had a seizure, not because of her, but because of who followed behind her.

Someone tall. Broad. Dark curls and thick lashes. A jawline that haunted my thighs. And forest green eyes that looked up at me sensually, while I rode him the night before.

I blinked.

He blinked back.

No fucking way.

"Liam," Avery beamed, walking over and grabbing my hand. "You look pale, did I outdo my outfit?" She giggled.

She stepped aside.

"Oh, forgive my manners. This is my brother," she said casually, "Jackson Maddox. He flew in from Carrington yesterday to attend the engagement."

Jackson’s lips curved into that same wicked smirk he gave me before filling me up in a hotel room.

"Nice to meet you, Liam Sinclair," he said, extending a hand.

I stared. My hole clenched in panic. This couldn’t be happening.

He was Avery’s brother. And I had begged him to wreck me hours ago.

And now, he was looking at me like he planned to do it again.

~

My fingers twitched at my side, and then a tall champagne glass tipped over by accident, touched the edge of a nearby plate, and collapsed to the floor in a shatter of glass.

All attention turned to me. I lowered my head and panicked on the inside.

"What happened?" my father barked, his voice echoing over the soft music.

I opened my mouth, but air came out instead of words.

Before I could stammer a reply, he was there, his shoulders squared, cutting through the crowd with his disappointment already loaded and aimed.

And right behind him? Was Jackson.

Of course.

"Are you alright?" my father asked roughly.

"I-yes. It was just-" My voice died under his glare.

He turned toward Jackson, extending his hand with the stiff pride of a man who was shaking not for courtesy, but for business strategy. "You must be Avery’s brother. Jackson, was it?"

Jackson’s eyes flicked to me before grasping my father’s hand. "Yes, sir. Pleasure to meet you."

My limbs seized up like I'd been tasered.

Then it came, my turn. Jackson extended his hand again, like we were strangers, like he hadn’t had me gasping and whimpering less than twelve hours ago.

My own hand was reluctant, twitching like it knew better. But there was no escaping the stage we stood on.

Our palms met.

He was warm. Mine was sweaty.

Then Avery, all petal show and perfume, slipped between us like a ribbon of caramelized sugar.

"Liam, you look so sharp today," she cooed, wrapping her arms around mine, pressing her cheek to my shoulder. "Almost like you’re trying to impress me."

I forced a chuckle, my body stiff as a mannequin's. She didn’t notice. After a second, Avery pulled away, channeling her attention to my father who was acting overly sweet.

Jackson leaned in close. Close enough to make me flinch, to steal the air between us. Noticing my tense expression.

"I liked you better when you were riding me," he whispered.

A bolt of panic shot through my spine. My knees almost buckled.

Then my father's voice interrupted the moment.

"Photo time. Front display, come here son." He cooed.

I walked like a marionette, moving without feeling. Avery clung to my side, a perfect pastel picture of bliss.

I posed. I smiled, maybe I died a little.

Flash.

Flash.

Flash.

Every click seemed like a funeral to me.

"I’ll just.....step outside for a second," I murmured, already turning before anyone could object.

The garden was quieter, but it didn’t soothe me like it always had. My thoughts consumed me.

A time machine. That’s what I needed. To go back in time and completely avoid the club and hotel.

"You look like you’re one breath away from collapsing."

My spine straightened as I heard his voice, I did not expect him to follow me.

"You followed me," I muttered, my fingers clenching the railing.

Jackson stepped into view, casually, "I was curious,” he said. "Wanted to know if you fainted out here."

"Not yet," I turned to face him, "I didn't know you were Avery's brother."

His gaze searched mine. "I didn’t know that you were her fiancé. Not until this moment."

I shook my head, half in disbelief, half in despair. "This is a nightmare."

"Then start living in it." Jackson said, stepping closer, his fingers brushing a loose strand of my hair and tucking it softly behind my ear, "because I am interested in keeping you.”

Continue to read this book for free
Scan code to download App

Latest chapter

  • Sweet Unhappy Heart   151

    Third Person's POVSix weeks after Avery's disappearance, the Federal Courthouse in Manhattan buzzed with an energy that felt almost electric. Media trucks lined the streets. Protesters held signs. Security was tripled because this wasn't just another trial.This was the reckoning of Astor Sinclair.Inside Courtroom 4B, every seat was filled. Journalists with notebooks. Sketch artists with charcoal. Members of the public who'd camped out overnight just to witness history.At the prosecution table sat Barrister Michael Sullivan with his team of three assistant prosecutors. Files stacked neatly. Evidence organized. Years of preparation distilled into this moment.At the defense table sat Marcus Wright with two associates. Expensive suits. Confident postures. The look of men who'd defended the indefensible before and won.And at the defendant's table, wearing an orange jumpsuit that looked obscene on someone who'd spent his life in custom tailoring, sat Astor Sinclair. Handcuffed. Guarde

  • Sweet Unhappy Heart   150

    Third Person's POVThe federal holding facility was a concrete fortress designed to break spirits before trials even began. Cold. Gray. Smelling of industrial cleaner that never quite masked the underlying scent of human desperation.Astor Sinclair sat in his cell, a space barely eight by ten feet, with a metal bed bolted to the wall, a toilet with no seat, and a small metal desk that wobbled when he tried to write. The orange jumpsuit he wore was rough against his skin, a constant reminder that his thousand-dollar suits were gone. His penthouse was gone. His empire was crumbling.But his mind was still sharp.Still planning. Still calculating. Still looking for the angle that would save him.The door opened. A guard stood there, expressionless. "You've got a visitor. Conference room three."Astor stood. Let himself be handcuffed. Let himself be led through corridors where other inmates watched him with a mixture of recognition and contempt. Everyone knew who he was. The news coverage

  • Sweet Unhappy Heart   149

    Third Person's POVThree weeks had passed since Avery Maddox disappeared into the night, leaving behind a trail of broken trust and unanswered questions. Three weeks since Liam Sinclair had taken over his father's empire and started the slow, painful process of dismantling everything Astor had built on lies and corpses.And in those three weeks, the world had shifted in ways no one could have predicted.At Memorial Hospital, Jackson Maddox sat propped up in his bed, a tablet in his hands, his fingers moving slowly across the screen. Physical therapy had started. Speech therapy too. The doctors said his vocal cords were healing but it would be months before he could speak normally again. For now, he communicated through text and gestures and the occasional raspy whisper that cost him everything.Liam sat beside him, as he had every day for the past three weeks, reading through reports from Sinclair Corporation while Jackson reviewed documents for Maddox Corporation. Two CEOs, working s

  • Sweet Unhappy Heart   148

    Third person's POV Third Person's POVThe evening light filtered through the hospital windows in that particular way that made everything look softer than it actually was. Mr. Richard Maddox walked down the ICU corridor carrying a bouquet of white roses, his footsteps heavy, his shoulders slumped in a way that made him look older than his sixty-two years.He'd been a terrible father. He knew that now. Had known it for a while but had been too proud, too stubborn, too caught up in his empire to admit it.But seeing Jackson in that hospital bed, broken because of choices Richard had indirectly enabled by doing business with men like Astor Sinclair, had finally shattered whatever denial he'd been clinging to.The nurse at the station recognized him. "Mr. Maddox. He's awake. Can't speak yet but he's responsive. Go on in."Richard nodded his thanks and walked to Jackson's bay. Through the window, he could see Janet sitting beside the bed, her laptop open, probably working on something for

  • Sweet Unhappy Heart   147

    Third Person's POVOfficer Mackenzie stood in Avery's apartment with Torres and Dove, all three of them wearing gloves and moving carefully through the space like archaeologists excavating a crime scene."Closet's half empty," Torres called from the bedroom. "Expensive stuff too. Designer clothes. The kind you'd take if you were planning to be gone a while."Dove was photographing everything with her phone. "Suitcase is missing from the closet shelf. You can see the dust pattern where it used to sit. And look at this." She pointed to the dresser. "Jewelry box is empty. She took valuables. Things she could sell if she needed cash."Mackenzie walked to the window. It was still open, curtains moving slightly in the breeze. He leaned out, looking down. "Two-story drop. But there's a fire escape. She could have gone down that way if she saw us coming.""Or if she saw anyone coming," Torres added. "She was paranoid. Running scared.""With good reason." Mackenzie pulled back inside. "Let's c

  • Sweet Unhappy Heart   146

    Third Person's POVLiam left the police station with his mind in chaos, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles had gone white. The drive back to the hospital was a blur of streetlights and traffic he barely registered. His mother. Caroline Martinez. Both killed by Astor. Both erased because Elizabeth had dared to choose happiness over staying trapped in a marriage to a monster.His mother had been gay. Or bisexual. In love with a woman. Planning to run away and start a new life. With him. They could have been happy. They could have been free.But Astor had stolen that. Murdered it. Buried it along with two bodies and fifteen years of lies.Liam parked in the hospital lot and sat there for a moment, just breathing. Trying to hold himself together. Trying not to fall apart completely.He walked through the automatic doors, took the elevator to the ICU floor, his feet moving on autopilot while his brain processed horrors he couldn't fully comprehend.Janet was in Jac

More Chapters
Explore and read good novels for free
Free access to a vast number of good novels on GoodNovel app. Download the books you like and read anywhere & anytime.
Read books for free on the app
SCAN CODE TO READ ON APP
DMCA.com Protection Status