The Pieces We Can't Mend

By the time Quinn Walker finished dealing with company business, it was already late. She checked her phone to find a flood of photos and videos from her friends, all showing Liam Grant getting a little too close to the same girl.

[Quinn! Holy shit, I think Liam's actually serious about this one! I sent you the address. Get over here!]

Quinn stared at the message for a while, rubbing her temples in exhaustion. Eventually, she grabbed her keys and headed to the address her friend had sent.

She had barely arrived when the waiter slid open the door to the private room, and a sweet, clear voice rang out, edged with stubborn indignation.

"Mr. Grant, have some decency! You're engaged! I, Riley Sutton, may be poor, but I'll never be anyone's mistress!"

At that instance, the waiter froze, then turned to Quinn with a helpless, questioning look. She waved him away, and he hurried off, visibly relieved.

For a moment, Quinn stood silently outside the partially open door, looking in. All their mutual friends were gathered inside, apparently at Liam's personal invitation. She wondered what he'd brought them all here for, though the latest message glowing on her phone offered a pretty clear answer.

[Holy shit! Quinn, are you here yet?? Liam's lost his mind! He says he's introducing his girlfriend to us!!!]

Liam was certainly behaving differently this time, but Quinn couldn't see anything particularly special about the girl, aside from her being younger than the others.

The sensible thing would be to walk in, calm and composed, and send her on her way, just as she'd done with countless women before her.

Instead, perhaps because she'd been working nonstop and was simply too exhausted, Quinn found herself leaning against the wall, pulling a cigarette from her pack.

For once, she wanted to hear what Liam had to say.

"You're worried about Quinn Walker?"

His voice carried its usual lazy drawl, though there was an unmistakable note of amusement when he said her name.

"I don't care! I'm not going to be some rich guy's mistress!"

Through the opening, Quinn could see Liam resting his chin on his hand, watching the indignant young woman gesturing wildly in front of him with obvious fascination. The room was dimly lit, but there was no mistaking the delight in his eyes, and the sight stung more than Quinn expected.

"Who said you'd be the other woman?"

His unhurried voice carried easily through the doorway. Every word that followed struck Quinn so hard she momentarily forgot to breathe.

"The woman I love gets spoiled rotten. Why would I ever make her the other woman?"

Spoiled rotten.

Quinn repeated the words to herself, trying to imagine them applying to her.

"As for Quinn Walker..."

Liam let out a soft chuckle, making no attempt to hide the disgust and contempt in his voice.

"She's just a shameless bitch who doesn't know her place and is begging to be taught a lesson. If she bothers you, I'll kick her to the curb."

Silence fell over the room. Even the friends who had been holding their phones, ready to warn Quinn about what was happening, sat frozen.

In all these years, this was the first time Liam had spoken about Quinn and their relationship like this. It was also the first time in her life that she'd heard anything so vicious and revolting.

The atmosphere grew unbearably tense. Only Riley seemed completely oblivious.

"Really?" she asked suspiciously.

Then she glanced down, tugged at the faded hem of her shirt, and shook her head with a pout.

"I don't believe you. I'm going to have to see for myself whether you mean it. And you can't pressure me, Liam Grant!"

Her bright, innocent voice made her sound like a girl who knew nothing of the world.

"And even if we do end up together, you still have to respect me! I'll pay back every penny you've spent supporting me!"

Quinn wanted desperately to look away. She could still walk inside with her dignity intact, or simply turn around and leave. Either would have been better than standing there, but her body refused to cooperate. She remained rooted to the spot, forced to watch and listen.

Meanwhile, Liam was gazing at Riley with undisguised affection. He reached out to pinch her cheek, smiling indulgently.

"Alright, alright. Whatever you say, my little princess."

Riley appeared to say something else, but Quinn could no longer make out the words.

A sharp pain suddenly stabbed through her stomach, followed by a wave of nausea so overwhelming that it finally broke her paralysis.

She turned and rushed to the restroom, where she vomited uncontrollably until tears streamed down her face. Only when there was almost nothing left in her stomach did the pain begin to ease.

Looking up at the mirror, Quinn barely recognized the disheveled woman staring back at her. A chill ran through her entire body.

Three years of devotion, compromise, and putting up with Liam's behavior, all dismissed with a single disgusting remark. Just like that, he'd made her into a humiliating joke.

Quinn suddenly felt exhausted beyond words. And strangely enough, when she thought of Liam again, the nausea churning in her stomach was stronger than the turmoil in her heart.

Forget it.

A faint laugh escaped her lips as she slowly reached into her purse for her lipstick and touched up her makeup.

She threw away the soggy cigarette she'd been holding, took out another, and lit it.

Then, through the haze of smoke, Quinn called her assistant, Megan Brooks.

"Cancel the proposal ceremony we arranged. Also, draft a reply to the Veymont training center for me.

"Tell them I accept their invitation and will arrive on time for the training."