All Chapters of STEP ASIDE EX-HUSBAND: THE RISE OF LIANA: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

Dominic's POV The thing about guilt is, it doesn’t announce itself. It creeps.Like fog. Like rot under polished wood.And lately, I’ve been smelling it everywhere.It infuses all things into early morning coffees that grow cold too fast, into rides to work as penance, into the long silences in otherwise short conversations. It came in the small silences. In the spaces where my laughter should have been. In the way Serena would look at me along the dinner table, eyes soft and searching, as if she was trying to understand a language she used to be able to speak but could no longer."You've been awfully quiet these days," she remarked one night, her voice cautious, as if the softness would make it less true. "Has it got to do with the Elena drama?"I did not look up from my plate. Just prodded at the grilled chicken as if it had personally done me wrong. "No, just work," I growled. "It's been a lot these days."The same line. Again.Safe. Rehearsed. Half-true.She nodded slowly, her fo

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 y

The car roared beneath me like it shared my anger.I wasn't aware I was moving that quickly until a blur of a car blasted its horn, yanking me back into my reality. I drew in a quick breath, the sound harsh and ragged. My knuckles were white against the wheel, my heart racing against the cage of my rib as if it desired to escape, as if it needed this almost as much as I did.Dominic.His name didn't come into my mind; it was akin to a knife seared in my chest, turning with every breath. I didn't possess proof, not of the sort that the world approved but I didn't need it. I knew it in my bones, in the intuition that had sustained me all these years.He had been behind the stupid post.He always struck where it would hurt the most. Always waited until I was finally gasping in the air before dragging me underwater. No one else would have schemed something this planned, this beautifully mess. I didn't have any other known enemies.I felt a metallic taste in my mouth, that's was when I rea

I woke to the dull early morning gray seeping through my blinds. I remained still for a moment. Yesterday's weight still hung on me like a wet blanket. My body ached from a long night, my limbs were heavy, and my mind clouded.It was strange to be awake. I wasn't well rested but I had survived yesterday's blog post, the backlash, the virtual stoning.I survived and I was proud of that.There was a deafening silence in the apartment. I turned my head and listened. My mother was still sleeping in the guestroom. Her breathing, soft and steady. I slowly sat up and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, my movements slow, measured. As if if I acted in a rush, my peace would be lost.I dragged myself to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My face looked like it belonged to someone else—swollen eyes, raw lips, and that nervous twitch in my jaw that wouldn't go away. I washed my face, took my bath and then retrieved my makeup bag. Every brush stroke was a matter of reassembling a new me. I

Morning sun peeked through the blinds, creating golden stripes across my bedroom wall. Cam was with me, her breath slow and even, her little hand still clutched around my wrist from the night before. She'd refused to sleep in her own bed and hadn't let go, not once, since we'd held ourselves asleep. I brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, kissed her temple, and whispered, "Time to get ready, baby girl."Waking her up was gentler than normal. She did not struggle like she always did on school mornings. Her silence was heavy but cooperative. While I got her dressed and made her lunch, I made a silent vow to myself- today, I would not just drop her off. I would walk into that school, head held high, and let it be known that my daughter was not alone.We arrived at the school gates, and the moment our shoes made contact with the pavement, I felt eyes on us. Other parents discreetly turned. There were murmurs here and there like gnats in the air. I gripped Cam's hand harder.Her prin