chapter 9:The Price of Fire
877 Words
The morning after her kiss with Liam, Amara felt like she was walking in someone else’s skin.
The city looked the same. Her hotel room smelled like coffee and jasmine lotion. Her phone buzzed like always.
But everything had changed.
Liam had kissed her like a man unraveling. And for a brief, shimmering moment… she had let herself fall.
But reality?
Reality didn’t care about magic.
Her phone lit up again.
This time, not with a message.
With a headline.
> “Blackwood’s Mystery Woman: New Romance or New Risk?”
Photos show billionaire Liam Blackwood with unidentified woman leaving the Gotham Hotel gala… hand-in-hand.
Amara’s chest tightened.
She tapped the article.
There it was — a photo. Grainy but clear enough. Liam’s hand wrapped around hers. Her face angled toward him, smiling.
Her stomach dropped.
Not because she was ashamed.
But because she knew what this meant.
She wasn’t just a woman anymore.
She was a story.
---
At the Roosevelt Tower site, silence followed her like a shadow. Whispers floated behind her back. Phones lowered just as she passed.
She felt it in the tension. The curiosity. The jealousy.
By the time she made it to the third floor, Rick the foreman gave her a sympathetic look.
“You okay, boss?”
“Just fine,” she replied tightly.
But she wasn’t.
Because five minutes later, Vivian LaRue showed up.
Uninvited.
In heels too high for a construction zone and sunglasses far too large for the cloudy morning.
“Well, if it isn’t our cover girl,” Vivian purred.
Amara froze.
Vivian sauntered over, phone in hand. “You’re famous now. It’s cute. Blackwood’s little project manager turned tabloid treasure.”
“I’m not in the mood,” Amara said, voice like glass.
“But I am.” Vivian smiled. “See, I told Liam you weren’t built for his world. But he likes toys. And they break so easily.”
Amara’s jaw clenched. “You done?”
Vivian stepped closer, eyes icy. “You’ll never be one of us. You’re a temporary thrill. When it gets messy — and it will — he’ll protect his name, not yours.”
Amara didn’t flinch.
She smiled.
“Funny,” she said. “I’ve seen the way Liam looks at me. That’s not a man chasing thrills.”
Vivian’s smile wavered.
“And if you’re so sure I’m temporary,” Amara added, “why are you so scared?”
Vivian turned on her heel and stormed off.
Rick whistled low nearby. “Damn. Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Amara didn’t answer.
Because beneath her fire, something was cracking.
She had worked her entire life to be taken seriously.
Now she was a scandal. A distraction.
And worst of all… Liam hadn’t called.
---
Later That Day…
Liam’s office was a fortress of silence.
He sat behind his glass desk, tablet open, untouched coffee at his elbow.
Amara didn’t wait to be announced. She pushed open the door and walked in.
“You could’ve warned me,” she said.
He looked up. Tired. Grim.
“I didn’t know they’d run the story this fast.”
“But you knew they’d run it at all.”
Liam stood slowly, pushing the tablet aside. “I was going to talk to you. But I needed to do damage control first.”
“Damage control,” she repeated, bitterly. “I’m not your PR scandal, Liam.”
“No,” he said. “You’re something I don’t know how to protect.”
“That’s not comforting.”
He came around the desk, voice quiet. “You think I don’t know what this costs you? Your career. Your credibility. I’ve seen it happen before.”
“Then why didn’t you stop it?”
“Because I didn’t want to hide you,” he admitted. “But I should’ve been smarter.”
Her voice broke. “So now what? You cut ties? Let me go clean up the mess on my own while you hide behind your lawyers?”
Liam looked genuinely pained. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend I don’t care.”
Silence cracked between them.
Finally, she stepped back.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” she whispered. “I wanted a job. Not a war.”
“And I didn’t expect to fall for you,” he said, just above a whisper. “But I did.”
Her breath hitched.
She stared at him.
Then turned away.
“I need time.”
Liam didn’t try to stop her.
But the way he looked at her — like she was both the answer and the punishment — would haunt her long after the door closed behind her.
---
That Night…
Amara sat alone on the rooftop of her hotel, watching the moonlight shimmer on the Hudson River.
Her phone buzzed.
A message.
From an unknown number.
> UNKNOWN:
They’re already digging into your past. You’re not safe in his world. Walk away before they ruin you.
She stared at the screen.
Then deleted the message.
She wouldn’t be threatened. Not by cowards.
But the fear? The reality? It settled in her bones.
She wasn’t the problem.
She was the target.
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