I Am Your Empire

Chapter 4- The Last Stay

Liam's POV

I smelled it before I saw her—the scent of wet earth after a storm, laced with cocoa. A strange, intoxicating combination. It belonged to her, only her. And just like that, I was paralyzed, my feet rooted to the ground, staring at the supposed ‘love of my life.’

How the f**k did it come to this?

She looked like a ghost of the woman I once knew—miserable, hollowed out by something worse than sadness. And when her eyes locked with mine, the answer hit me like a gut punch. I was the source of that agony.

"What brings you here?" I asked, although I realized the moment the words escaped my lips that they were inappropriate at the time.

A slow, mirthless chuckle fell from her lips. A sound that held nothing but venom.

She echoed my words, each syllable filled with utter disbelief. “Why am I here?”

Her lips twisted, eyes slitting as she shot the next words at me. "Did you become a father beyond our marriage?"

Three years.

Three damn years, Liam.

The heaviness of her accusation hit me hard, twisting my stomach. Three years back, she was my lifeline, the sole reason for my existence. I rescued her from that mishap, and in return, she became my whole world. My fixation. My belongings.

"My life isn’t your concern," I snapped, fully aware that each word was a dagger to her soul. I didn't intend it. Yet pride was a harsh ruler, and I would not appear weak in her presence.

She trembled, tears welling in her eyes, yet I sensed the rage underlying the sorrow. And afterwards—

Slap.

I felt the sting across my cheek before I even saw it coming. She was trembling, chest heaving, lips parted as if she wanted to scream, but no words came.

Sasha rose from her seat, her delicate fingers latching onto my sleeve like a damn parasite. If only she knew how pathetic she looked, clinging to me like a lifeline.

“Liam, we need to leave,” she murmured, saccharine sweet and full of entitlement.

Rosy let out a scoff so sharp it could have slit my throat. I kept my face blank, but my insides were a war zone.

Then, barely above a whisper, she asked, “Why?”

Her voice wavered, cracking on that single word. And for a fraction of a second, I felt myself waver too. But I couldn't. Not now.

I turned my back to her and walked away, Sasha’s heels clicking against the floor as she followed.

I never looked back.

Rosy’s POV

I stood there, my heart in my throat, my hand still burning from where I’d struck him. My husband—or was he even that anymore?

The bastard had a child.

This man.

This heartless, soulless man who once claimed to love me now stood before me with another woman by his side, a child that wasn’t mine, and the audacity to act as if I was nothing.

I wanted to break something.

Instead, I let my palm collide with his face, the force of it reverberating through my entire body like a goddamn earthquake.

It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

Sasha clung to him like the leech she was, her doe-eyed innocence an insult to my intelligence. If she thought she was winning, she was sorely mistaken.

“Let’s go, Liam,” she said, but I saw it. The way his eyes flickered, the hesitation that lasted only a second but spoke volumes.

He didn’t want this.

So why the f**k was he still choosing it?

Tears burned down my cheeks as I watched him walk away. I let him go.

I always did.

Maybe that’s where I went wrong.

It didn’t matter now.

I pressed a trembling hand to my stomach. The decision was made. I had an abortion to perform.

No more ties. No more pain.

I collapsed onto the floor, sobbing so hard my chest ached, my body curling in on itself as the final shreds of my love for Liam disintegrated into dust.

I was leaving tomorrow.

And this time, no one would stop me.

Three days later…

I entered through the front door like I had a hundred times before, but this time felt different. Hollow. My mind was a mess, a chaotic jumble of blank thoughts and deafening silence all at once.

I barely noticed Mrs. Daria until I crashed straight into her, spilling her wine down the front of her designer dress.

“You blind, or just stupid?” she shrieked, inspecting the stain like it was acid eating through her clothes.

Clumsy fool! I scolded myself, pressing a hand to my forehead.

“Watch your words,” I said, my voice eerily calm.

She sneered, scanning me from head to toe. “Are you the maid?”

I clenched my jaw.

No.

I was the f*****g wife of Liam Mesh. Or at least, I had been.

Before I could answer, Harriet—the devil’s spawn in human form—sauntered in, Sasha and Malia flanking her like well-trained lapdogs.

“Let her be, she’s beneath you,” Harriet purred, dismissing me like I was filth.

The trio of vipers giggled amongst themselves, their condescension thick enough to suffocate me.

I should have left right then and there. But no, I had one last thing to do.

I turned to Harriet, my voice steady. “I forgot your birthday.”

Her eyes flickered with disinterest.

“I made you a bag,” I continued, reaching into my tote.

She scoffed, holding up her hand. “There’s no need. Sasha got me a Hermès. I don’t wear cheap bags.”

Malia snorted. “Rosy, stop embarrassing yourself.”

I felt my blood boil.

Breathe. Don’t snap.

Too late.

“I saved this family from ruin,” I spat, my voice razor-sharp. “You sit in this mansion, flaunting your riches, because of me.”

Harriet’s lips curled into a sneer. “And yet, you are still nothing.”

The room burst into laughter.

Something inside me snapped.

“I refuse,” I declared, lifting my chin. “I refuse to be treated like this.”

Malia smirked. “And what are you going to do about it?”

“I am Rosy Santoro.”

Silence.

For the first time, real fear flickered across Harriet’s face.

And just like that, the game had changed.