When Alina got inside, she meet Liam in the living room, seated on one of the long sofas, his attention fixed on a document in his hand. He looked as sharp as ever, black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and that usual unreadable expression on his face.
Alina hesitated at the door, then took a deep breath and walked closer.
“Liam,” she called softly.
He didn’t look up. “What is it?”
“I… I need to talk to you about something,” she said.
“You’re already talking,” he said flatly, eyes still on the paper.
She frowned a little at his cold tone but ignored it. “Tomorrow is my grandmother’s birthday,” she began. “She’ll be turning seventy-eight, and I really want to go see her.”
That finally made Liam look up. His blue eyes lifted lazily from the file to her face. “And why exactly are
