Chapter two
875 Words
The Terms of the Game
(Liam Ashford(ML) – Present Day, New York City)
Liam Ashford didn’t like being surprised — and yet, as he watched Ava Sinclair(FL) sit across from him, he realized that’s exactly what she was.
Not the kind of surprise that unsettled deals or rattled boardrooms, but the kind that made him… curious.
And Liam didn’t get curious. Not anymore.
Her questions had been sharp. Too sharp for a journalist who was supposed to be intimidated. She’d asked about missing financial records, about the sudden resignation of one of his senior advisors, even hinted that the company’s offshore accounts didn’t match its public reports.
No one had ever dared that in person.
Now, as she scribbled something into her notebook, he leaned back and watched her quietly. There was nothing polished about her — no designer clothes, no strategic smiles — just a woman who believed in something.
He’d forgotten what that looked like.
“Done writing about my downfall already?” he asked, his voice smooth but edged with mockery.
She didn’t flinch. “Just taking notes. I like to make sure I quote my sources accurately.”
He tilted his head, studying her. “Careful, Miss Sinclair. Quoting me accurately might get you sued.”
Her lips curved — not quite a smile, more like a challenge. “Or it might get me a headline.”
That earned her a faint chuckle. “You think you can outsmart me?”
“I think truth isn’t a game, Mr. Ashford.”
Liam’s expression darkened just slightly, though his tone stayed calm. “Everything is a game. You’ll learn that soon enough.”
He rose from his chair, walked to the window, and looked out at the skyline — the city stretching beneath him like a kingdom he’d built and conquered.
“Tell me, Miss Sinclair,” he said without turning. “Do you know what it takes to survive in this world?”
“Luck,” she said.
He turned, eyes narrowing. “No. Power. Luck runs out. Power doesn’t.”
He walked back toward her, slow, deliberate. “You think you’re here because you earned it? Because you asked nicely?”
She frowned. “Aren’t I?”
He smiled, a small, dangerous smile. “You’re here because I let you be.”
Ava’s heart thudded, but she met his gaze anyway. “Then maybe you should ask yourself why you did.”
For a second, silence filled the room — heavy, electric.
He liked her. Damn it, he liked her.
Most people tried to impress him. She challenged him instead.
And there was something about her — something raw and real — that made him wonder what she’d look like if she ever stopped pretending to be brave.
Finally, he said, “Dinner. Tonight. Eight o’clock. My driver will pick you up.”
Ava blinked. “Excuse me?”
“Consider it… an extension of the interview,” he said lightly. “You want to know the truth about me? You’ll see it tonight.”
Her instincts screamed trap, but her curiosity — that reckless, journalist curiosity — whispered opportunity.
“I didn’t agree to—”
“You want your story or not?” he interrupted softly.
The way he said it — calm, confident, absolute — left no room for argument.
After a long pause, she closed her notebook. “Fine. Dinner.”
He smiled again, slow and deliberate, like a man who always gets what he wants. “Good girl.”
She bristled. “Don’t call me that.”
He chuckled. “We’ll work on your manners later.”
As she stood to leave, she noticed something she hadn’t before — a photo frame turned face down on his desk. For a man who liked control, that small act felt… strange.
Her hand brushed it slightly as she gathered her things, and Liam’s voice snapped sharp.
“Don’t.”
She froze. His tone wasn’t cold — it was wounded.
Their eyes met, and for a fleeting second, she saw it: the man behind the empire.
Tired.
Haunted.
Human.
Then, just as quickly, it was gone.
“Eight o’clock,” he repeated, his voice back to steel. “Don’t be late.”
Ava nodded once and walked out, her pulse racing.
******************************************************
Outside his office, the air felt thinner, charged. She pressed the elevator button, her reflection staring back — wide eyes, trembling hands, a thousand thoughts colliding at once.
What had she just agreed to?
Dinner with a man the media called The Untouchable.
Dinner with someone who could destroy her career with a single phone call.
But as the elevator doors closed, she realized something she hadn’t expected — she wasn’t afraid.
She was intrigued.
*****************************************************
Back in his office, Liam stood at the window again, watching the reflection of the city flicker across the glass.
He didn’t know why he’d invited her. He told himself it was to control the narrative, to protect his secrets, to test how far she’d go for a story.
But the truth — the one he wouldn’t admit even
to himself — was simpler.
He wanted to see her again.
And that terrified him more than any headline ever could.
- Writer
