Chapter 9
1071 Words
Kylie’s POV
I told myself I wouldn’t meet him.
I said it out loud while staring at my reflection in the elevator mirror,Anytime I remember what I and Liam did that night,I feel nasty .My hands were steady, my spine straight, my face calm. Everything looked fine. Inside, it wasn’t.
The message from Liam had been simple.
We need to talk. One last time.
No threats. No demands. That was what scared me.
The café was quiet. Neutral. Public enough to feel safe, private enough for damage to happen without witnesses. Liam was already seated when I arrived, his jacket folded neatly beside him, his phone face down on the table like a promise he hadn’t yet decided to keep.
He looked… softer. Older, maybe. Or maybe I was just seeing him without the blur of fear this time.
“You came,” he said.
“I won’t stay long,” I replied, sitting anyway.
He smiled, slow and knowing. “You always say that.”
I hated that he remembered things like that.
We talked about nothing at first. Work. The weather. The city. He asked how I was settling into my role, and I caught myself answering honestly before I remembered I shouldn’t. That was how he worked. He made things feel normal, then twisted the knife.
“You look good,” he said eventually.
“Successful.”
I stiffened. “If you called me here to comment on my life, you’ve done that. I need to go.”
“I didn’t release the video,” he said calmly.
My breath caught before I could stop it.
“I could have,” he continued. “I still can. But I haven’t.”
“Why?” The word slipped out.
He leaned back. “Because I wanted to see you first. To see if you’d look at me like I was a monster.”
“And?” I asked.
“And you’re trying very hard not to.”
I stood. “This is manipulation.”
“Yes,” he agreed easily. “But it used to work better when you admitted it.”
I hated how my body reacted. How my chest felt tight, how my palms were damp. He hadn’t shown me anything. Hadn’t threatened me outright. And yet the weight of that unseen recording sat between us like a third person at the table.
“What do you want, Liam?” I asked quietly.
He looked at me for a long moment. Not my face. Not my body. Me.
“I want you to stop pretending this is over,” he said. “You didn’t leave because you stopped loving me. You left because you were tired.”
“That is not the same thing,” I snapped.
“It is,” he replied. “Because tired people come back when they rest.”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “You think this is about feelings? You’re blackmailing me.”
He lowered his voice. “I’m protecting what’s mine.”
“I’m not yours.”
“You were,” he said. “And Yamah is a phase. Ambition dressed as affection.”
The words hit harder than I expected.
“Don’t talk about him,” I said.
“Why? Because he sees you now? Because he didn’t have to watch you grow?” Liam leaned forward. “He met the finished product. I paid for the drafts.”
I left before I said something I couldn’t take back.
Outside, the air felt thin. I pressed a hand to my stomach, dizzy for reasons I couldn’t explain. My mind started counting days without my permission. I forced it to stop.
Not now. Not ever.
Finally I was home.
Yamah noticed immediately.
“You’re somewhere else,” he said that evening, his voice gentle but sharp in the way only observant people are. “Did something happen?”
I shook my head too quickly. “Just tired.”
He didn’t believe me. He didn’t push either.
“That signing can wait,” he said. “Nothing is more important than you being okay.”
The words almost broke me.
Because Liam had never said things like that. He’d demanded endurance, not honesty. Control, not care.
I wanted to tell Yamah everything. The video. The meeting. The fear curling under my ribs. But the thought of dragging him into my mess made my throat close.
“I just need time,” I said.
He nodded. “Take it.”
Later, alone, my phone lit up.
A message from Liam.
You should know. I’m done waiting.
Another followed.
Decide what matters more. The contract… or the truth.
I stared at the screen, my reflection faint and distorted in the glass. My heart pounded so loudly it felt like the room was listening.
I thought of the life I’d built from nothing. The woman I’d become. The future that finally felt like it belonged to me.
And somewhere beneath the fear, beneath the noise, my body whispered again.
Something is changing.
I turned the phone face down, knowing one thing for certain.
Whatever choice I made next would cost me everything.
Liam’s POV
Aurora doesn't feel me anymore
She still walks away anytime I talk about giving me a second chance or whenever I threaten to release the video. She runs
Fast, like distance will erase what we were. Like history doesn’t know where she lives.
I didn’t lie. I haven’t released the tape. Not because I’m kind, but because timing matters. Power is useless if you waste it early.
Aurora would have posted it the same night. Terra would have sent it to every journalist she could find. They never understood patience.
Kylie does.
That’s why this hurts.
I sat there long after she left, watching my untouched coffee cool. The room buzzed with other people’s conversations, none of them knowing how close everything was to burning.
My phone vibrated.
An unfamiliar number.
“Mr. Liam Hill,” the voice said smoothly. “You don’t know me, but I know you.”
“Who is this?”
“Someone who understands leverage. I hear you’re very interested in Yamah Smith.”
I said nothing.
“Good,” the voice continued. “Silence is a sign of intelligence. Meet me tonight. You’ll want to hear what I have to offer.”
The call ended before I could respond.
I smiled.
Finally. Someone serious.
- Writer
