Chapter Ten

The morning sun sliced through the heavy velvet curtains of the penthouse, casting a jagged, unforgiving line of light across the suite.

Liam lay staring at the ceiling, his mind trapped in a relentless, agonizing loop of the previous night. Every detail of the gala flickered behind his eyelids: the cold, polished stone under his feet, the hollow clinking of champagne flutes, the terrifyingly calm smirk on Ethan Vance’s face, and most of all, the way Elena—the woman he had considered a broken, submissive housewife—had looked at him with nothing but pity.

It wasn't even the anger in her eyes that haunted him; it was the detachment. She looked at him as if he were a specimen under a microscope, or perhaps a relic of a life she had long ago discarded.

His pride, usually a fortress of iron, felt like a raw, festering wound. Frustration pulsed beneath his skin, a steady, rhythmic ache that made it impossible to lie still. He shoved Chloe, who was fast asleep and oblivious to the tectonic shifts in his world, and climbed out of bed.

He stood in his silk boxers, the remnants of the night’s frantic, performative lovemaking still clinging to him, and headed straight for the floor-to-ceiling window.

He stared out at the city skyline—his city—but today, it looked different. It looked fragile. He snatched his phone from the nightstand, his thumb hovering over his secretary’s private line. He didn't care about the hour.

"Sir?" Sarah answered on the first ring. Her voice was thick with sleep, but it sharpened instantly into a professional, anxious cadence. She knew better than to be sluggish with him.

"Cancel my entire day," Liam snapped, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. "Meet me at The Gilded Bean right now. And if you’re a second late, don’t bother coming at all."

There was a heavy, suffocating pause on the other end, the kind of silence that usually preceded a resignation. "Emmh, sir, You have a major meeting with The Dynamics," Sarah interjected, her voice strained. "Could you please use another company name or a senior representative to lead it ? I really don't think we should cancel this."

"Did I stutter?" Liam interrupted, his tone sharp enough to draw blood. "Meet me at the café, or don't bother showing up to the office ever again. I am not asking for a debate, Sarah. I am giving an order."

He ended the call, his chest heaving as he stared out at the sprawling concrete maze. Behind him, the soft rustle of sheets broke the silence. Chloe pushed herself up, her hair tangled, her eyes squinting against the harsh morning light. She registered the dark, manic energy radiating from his posture.

"You are up early," she said, her voice husky and sweet. She slid out of bed, the silk of her robe whispering against the floor. She walked over, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.

"Who was that?" she asked, a hint of suspicion creeping into her tone.

"No one," Liam replied, his jaw set in a hard, unbreakable line. "Just clearing the mess of yesterday."

"Okay," Chloe said, letting it go with a casual shrug. She stepped around him, her gaze settling on the glass of bourbon he had poured earlier. "Is that whiskey?"

"Yeah," he responded, his voice raspy, his focus still miles away.

"Something strong for the morning," Chloe murmured, a playful, jagged smirk touching her lips. "I guess I better join you then." She gently took the glass from his hand and took a slow, deliberate sip, humming in approval. "I should pour myself some too," she said, turning back toward the bar.

Liam followed her, intending to head toward the bathroom to shower. He dropped his phone onto the side table with a heavy thud, the screen lighting up for a brief second before going dark.

He felt a sudden, strange need to touch Chloe, to ground himself. He reached out, pulled her close, and kissed her back with a hunger that felt like pure desperation.

Chloe let out a soft, involuntary moan against his lips, her hands sliding up to grip his shoulders. She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and breathless. "Ohh, Liam," she sighed, a playful, exhausted smile on her face. "You better get on with fixing that mess, you know. After last night, I am all drained."

He pulled away, his eyes cold, and left her at the bar. He walked into the bathroom, the cool marble floor a relief against his heated skin, and turned the shower handle to the hottest setting. The steam began to fill the room, muting the world outside. He stepped under the spray, letting the water hammer against his shoulders, trying to drown out the lingering, haunting image of Elena’s eyes.

He had so much to do. He had to dismantle the mystery, to find out who had helped her disappear, and to regain his footing in a market that was suddenly, inexplicably slipping through his fingers. He was a predator, and he had been cornered by a ghost.

Suddenly, a sharp, melodic ringing cut through the sound of the running water.

"Hey, babe! Your phone is ringing!" Chloe called out from the bedroom, her voice cheerful, unaware of the sudden tension that gripped the room.

Liam stepped out of the spray, his heart drumming a frantic beat against his ribs. "Oh? Who is it?" he shouted back, his voice echoing against the tile as he wrapped a towel around his waist.

There was a pause, and he could hear the sound of her footsteps approaching the bathroom door. She stood just outside, her shadow visible through the frosted glass.

"It’s Elena," Chloe replied, her tone shifting from playful to unnervingly confused.

Liam froze. The world seemed to stop spinning. He pulled the door open, his hand still damp, his eyes wide as he stared at the phone sitting innocently on the nightstand. The name glowed on the screen like a neon sign in the dark.

"Elena," he repeated, the name tasting like ash and iron. He didn't answer it immediately. He stood there, watching the screen light up, his entire body poised for a strike. Everything he had been planning—the meeting with Sarah, the investigation, the search—all of it felt suddenly futile now that she had reached out on her own.

He reached for the device, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. This was the moment he had wanted, yet the suddenness of it felt like a trap. He tapped the button, bringing the phone to his ear, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low register.

"Hello, Elena."