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Sweet Unhappy Heart のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

205 チャプター

011

Liam’s POVThe second I stepped out of my father’s study, my phone buzzed.Avery: We’re going out. Dress well. 😘No further context. No explanation. Just her usual brand of confident command.And I couldn’t exactly say no.Not after this morning.Not after waking up in his bed, fully clothed, fully guilty—with a shirtless Jackson standing too close while I scrambled for excuses like a panicked teen.I sighed, adjusted my shirt collar, and moved through the marble foyer like a soldier marching to war.I didn't expect the war to be waiting by the car.“You’ve got to be shitting me.”Jackson was leaning against the SUV like a man in a cologne ad—tight black jeans hugging his thighs, a loose white shirt unbuttoned just enough to show the trail of sin leading beneath.And that grin.That insufferable, cocky, I-know-what-your-moans-sound-like grin.“You’re late, lover boy,” he said, pushing off the car like he had every right to be here.Avery stepped out from the other side of the vehicle

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012

Liam’s POV It was like I’d spat poison into the room. Avery blinked at me, confused, her perfectly lined brows furrowing as I said— "Can you just please, when next you want us out... don't include Jackson?" The words left my mouth before I could stop them. My jaw clenched after. She paused halfway between reaching for the car keys and completely freezing. Her head turned slowly, like she needed to make sure she heard me right. “Excuse me?” she said. My throat bobbed. I tried to recover, tried to rewind it into something softer. “I mean, it’s just…” I ran a hand through my hair. “When we go out, I want it to be us. You and me. Not your brother, not the ghost of your father’s expectations, or mine.” She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t about Jackson joining us. It’s about something else, isn’t it?” “No.” “Yes.” “Not like that—” She crossed her arms, leaned against the Maserati like she owned the sun and the moon. “Liam, if you’ve got an issue with Jackson, tell me.

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013

Jackson’s POVAvery was seated right across from me, those glossy peach lips pouting ever so lightly as she scanned through the menu like it was the final verdict on a man’s life. Liam sat beside her—rigid, too stiff for a regular afternoon lunch. I knew that posture. He was either angry… or trying not to let his cock respond to me. Either way, I was about to make this entire meal hotter than the soup she just ordered.I stirred my glass of water slowly, eyes lazily drinking Liam in. That corporate shirt stretched too tightly on his chest like it was dying to be ripped open. I leaned in and said it deliberately loud, “You know… I have been thinking.”Liam raised an eyebrow, not even sparing me a full glance. “About what?”Avery adjusted her seat, curious. I tilted my head and ran my tongue slowly over my lower lip. “About why I suddenly feel drawn to the family business. So interested in boardroom things, meetings, and share percentages.”Liam’s brows twitched, just slightly, but I

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014

Liam’s POVI’m home. The shadows lengthen through the glass front doors, draping the hallway in dusk as if the house itself is watching me return with suspicion. Daddy always said silence is the most honest thing we’ve inherited. Right now, this silence screams accusations I can’t escape.My phone buzzes in my pocket. Not Jackson this time but Avery: “Dinner tonight. We need to talk. Dress sharp.”I wish I could refuse, but I’m in deep, and she’s the one holding the leash, even though she doesn’t know how badly she bites into me. I walk through the foyer, past that painting we made together of Mama and Daddy when they looked happy—liars. I can’t help the hollow ache in my chest as I stare at her smiling eyes on canvas. I want answers tonight. Maybe.Earlier today I went down to Chambers & Weld, the cold law firm Daddy expects me to take over someday—or disguise myself in until I can pull back. I asked for Mama’s accident file. I had the date, the name of the driver, the phantom record

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015

Jackson’s POV The thing about being obsessed is—it’s a slow, constant hunger. It doesn’t scream; it simmers. Low and deadly. And tonight, it simmers inside me like a goddamn possessed furnace. I hadn’t eaten. Missed the family dinner, which was good, because I didn't want to play pretend with forks and wine and give fake laughs just to mask the tightness in my chest. Avery hadn’t responded to the last message I sent her about the shares. She was stalling. And I knew exactly why. She wasn’t stupid. She knew something was wrong. Something about the way I watched Liam. Something about the way I tried to corner this deal like a chessboard. But what she didn’t know—or maybe what she refused to say out loud—was that I was fighting for more than just company shares. I was fighting for Liam. Yeah. Him. And maybe hell had already welcomed me, because if loving your sister’s fiancé was damnable, then I’d already ordered a golden ticket straight to the devil’s living room. I was

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016

Liam's POV I walked in through the front door and caught the scent right away—something unexpected, almost intimate. It was the soft gleam of candlelight and the precise placement of a table set for two. Not by the maids, not by staff, but by her. Avery Maddox. I paused, stunned. This isn’t her style. Ever. There she was—standing just inside the dining room doorway, wearing a crisp white blouse and tailoring that spoke business, not domestic. Her cheeks were faintly flushed, lips parted as though she staked a question in the air. When she saw me, she offered a small, uneven smile. “I wanted us to eat together,” she said, voice unsteady but steadying itself. “You must be starving.” I took in the plated salad, fresh bread, the dim lighting. It was more than just a gesture—it felt like a message. Soft, fragile, and earnest. My shirt rode tight against my chest—every nerve prickling. “I’ll just…” I gestured toward the hall. “Take a bath first.” Her eyes followed me, silent,

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017

Note by: This chapter is explicitly written. Third Person POV Liam exhaled deeply, rolling the window down as the city night crept into the car. The amber of the cigarette glowed between his fingers as the driver took a left into Glover Street. The lights of Haven Bar spilled out like liquid gold. Liam stepped out without a word. Inside, the place reeked of expensive whiskey, twisted intentions, and forbidden meetings. Liam strode to the bar, ordered two bourbons, and downed one in one swig. The second stayed in his hand, untouched. Then the door opened. Jackson. Dressed in a black shirt rolled at the sleeves, no tie, wristwatch gleaming like a dagger's promise. He walked like he owned the air, like his name was printed in the dust of the walls. “You came,” Liam muttered. Jackson didn’t answer immediately. He moved close, brushing against Liam’s arm as he ordered a whiskey of his own. “Thought I made myself clear the last time we talked, babe.” “Liam,” he snappe

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018

Third-Person POVThe leather seat still bore the heat of their bodies.Liam hadn’t moved for a full minute, his skin sticking to the car’s interior, sweat drying too slowly as his chest rose and fell like he’d run miles uphill. The taste of Jackson still lingered on his tongue—warm, heady, forbidden. A part of him wanted to rewind time and do it all over again, slower this time, filthier. Another part of him? It was already regretting everything.The heavy silence in the car pressed in around them.Jackson had zipped up his pants, scrubbed a hand through his tousled dark hair, and rested his head against the steering wheel like he was seconds away from slamming it against the dashboard. He didn’t say anything. Not thank you, not what now, not we shouldn’t have. Just silence.That’s when Liam noticed it.The sleek, dark outline of a black SUV slid out from behind a cluster of trees on the other side of the empty lot. It moved too quietly. The windows were tinted like night and no l

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019

Third‑Person POVAstor Sinclair’s voice echoed softly in the long foyer, its calm measured to either soothe or command.“Now,” he said, lowering his glass, “why don’t you all take a breath… and tell Daddy everything.”A chill ran through the room, as though the walls themselves expected confession. Avery stood as still as a marble statue, but Astor’s eyes were sharp—trained to detect fissures in even the calmest demeanor.She hesitated, took a breath.“Dad,” she began quietly, “when Liam got home after work… well, I was setting the table. I wanted us to have dinner alone. It’s been a while since I saw my fiancé smile. I thought sitting down with him—just the two of us—would bring us some closure. A reset.” Her voice tightened. “But after dinner, Liam told me he was going outside for a smoke. I didn’t want to stop him—I’m not raising a child. But… he was gone for two hours. When he came back, he claimed to have run into business partners—‘from across the world,’ he said. Only…” she pau

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020

Third Person POV“Who are you meeting with that late?” Avery’s voice sliced through the tension in the air, sharp and unforgiving, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She leaned against the bedroom doorframe, her eyes narrowing as Liam turned away from the mirror where he was loosening his tie.She had waited. Waited for him to come home, waited for the silence in the room to grow heavy enough to suffocate her, waited for the perfect moment to confront him.Liam let out a soft, calculated smile. His expression was relaxed, almost too relaxed—as if he'd rehearsed this conversation in the mirror a hundred times.“My cousin sister,” he said, calmly. “Her name is Vivian. I know you probably don’t remember her. She’s on my dad’s side. She just moved back from the UK and is going through some… financial mess. I just dropped off a few things.”Avery’s jaw clenched. Her teeth ground behind the gloss of her lips. “Vivian?” she echoed, her tone disbelieving. “A cousin I’ve never heard of

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