Strike First, Strike Smart
885 Words
Liam’s POV
He had always played by the rules.
Until now.
Now, Liam Hawthorne was ready to burn the damn rulebook—and Vanessa Moreau—with it.
He stood at the edge of Ariana’s living room, the city skyline twinkling behind him like a cruel joke. It was beautiful. Deceiving. Much like Vanessa herself.
“She’s weaponized everything,” Ariana said, pacing beside the couch. “Your company. The media. Her influence. And now she’s using Noah like he’s... collateral.”
Liam’s hands curled into fists. “He’s my son. Not a pawn in her sick power games.”
“I know. But if we want to win this, we can’t just react. We have to control the board.”
He looked at her.
Her voice was steel, but her eyes betrayed everything—the fear, the weight, the maternal fury bubbling beneath her calm exterior. She wasn’t just fighting for love. She was fighting for her child.
That made two of them.
He crossed the room, gently placing his hands on her shoulders.
“I’m with you,” he said. “Every move. Every risk. Whatever we do next... we do it together.”
She nodded, her jaw tight.
And then she pulled out a flash drive.
“What’s that?”
“A backup of Vanessa’s internal comms from Knight PR before you fired her,” Ariana said. “I kept it when I left. There were... patterns.”
Liam blinked. “Patterns?”
“Digital footprints. Vanessa used burner apps on her company phone to sabotage client competitors—tip-offs, leaks, false ad campaigns. I never had the stomach to turn her in, but—”
“You do now.”
She gave him a tight smile. “You’re catching on.”
He pulled out his laptop. “I called Eli. He’s going through every document she ever signed. If we can prove breach of NDA or malicious interference—”
“She’s finished.”
---
Ariana’s POV
She had spent years surviving in silence.
Now, with Liam beside her, she was strategizing, building something she never thought she’d get back—control.
It was intoxicating.
They sat side by side on her couch, laptops open, files spread out. He kept glancing over at her like he couldn’t believe she was real.
Or maybe he was finally seeing her.
“You’re incredible,” he said under his breath.
She paused mid-type. “For digging up dirt?”
“No. For not letting her break you. For protecting Noah alone. For still being you.”
That made her throat tighten.
Because somewhere in the chaos of single motherhood and heartbreak, she had lost pieces of herself. But sitting here, plotting revenge with the man who had once broken her and was now helping her rebuild?
She felt powerful again.
And she liked it.
---
Later That Night – Liam’s Perspective
It was past midnight when they finally closed their laptops.
The apartment had gone still. Ariana rose to check on Noah, disappearing down the hall.
Liam stared at the flash drive in his hand.
If this worked—if they could nail Vanessa without tipping her off—Knight Industries might survive. Noah might stay protected. Ariana could stop looking over her shoulder.
They could finally breathe.
But something about the whole situation gnawed at him.
Vanessa had always been cunning, yes. Manipulative, ambitious, cruel.
But lately?
She was obsessed.
And obsession didn’t just burn—it imploded.
Ariana came back into the room, barefoot, hair down, wearing an oversized hoodie that somehow made his pulse spike faster than the lingerie he remembered from four years ago.
“He’s asleep,” she said softly. “And I think he’s starting to suspect something’s wrong.”
Liam sighed. “He’s smart. Too smart.”
She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. “We have to fix this before it touches him.”
He stood, crossed to her, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We will.”
Her eyes found his—and lingered.
The heat was slow this time. Coiling. Electric. Not just lust, but something older. Something earned.
“I didn’t think I’d ever trust you again,” she whispered.
“And now?”
“I’m still deciding,” she murmured, though her body leaned into his. “But you’re making it very... difficult.”
He grinned, dipped his head, and kissed her.
It wasn’t wild. It wasn’t rushed.
It was the kind of kiss that says you’re mine—but not in possession.
In partnership.
In promise.
When they finally pulled apart, breathless and raw, Liam said, “Tomorrow, we go to war.”
“And tonight?” she asked.
He smiled. “Tonight, we rest. Then we rise.”
---
Vanessa’s POV – Midnight
Vanessa sat in her penthouse, sipping rosé straight from the bottle.
Her carefully crafted media bomb still hadn’t detonated.
Why?
Why wasn’t Liam crawling back?
Why wasn’t Ariana sobbing?
Why did she suddenly feel like the hunted, not the hunter?
Her phone buzzed.
From: Unknown Number
Hope you slept well.
Too bad it’s the last peaceful night you’ll have.
Smile for the cameras tomorrow, Vanessa.
We’re done playing nice. 🖤
She dropped the bottle.
Wine splattered across the marble floor like blood.
- Writer
