Chapter 30 #2
Like a negotiation. Only I’m not a part of it. Liam is on the other side of the room with our fathers and my brothers.
He is wearing a tie. This is important to him. We discussed the strategy before coming here. How not to get roped into doing our fathers’ bidding, and still protect both our sisters, Tee and Lottie.
How to appear like we are in this for our father’s benefit, without Liam having to step into a role in my father’s empire.
Actually, preparing for this meeting was a relief. A reminder that I can breathe when I’m useful.
It also reminded me how we used to work together at the beginning at Merged. Even while we hated each other, we were a good team.
A good team. Maybe that’s the part I need to trust the most. Maybe it’s not about losing myself, but about finding what us could look like. The two don’t have to be exclusive.
But as I look around the room at Rowan, Nico, Alex, and the two patriarchs… I’m not sure I can believe that.
These men take. They demand. They control.
Liam included me in the prep for this meeting. But here, he has no choice but to sideline me.
Because insisting otherwise would only piss my father off, and that’s not where we need him today.
It’s not Liam’s fault, but I still resent him for it. In this room, with these people, I will never be equal.
“Do you want to take a break?” Liam’s mom snaps me back into the conversation.
“Is everything okay?” My father—because, of course, he has ears everywhere—snaps from the other side of the room.
“I want the flowers to be white,” I say. “To contrast with my black gown.”
Liam’s mom lets out a choking gasp. “A black wedding gown?”
All eyes land on me. But the only pair I seek is Liam’s. To everyone else, he must look indifferent, bored, his usual self. But I already know the tiny deviations in his stoic expression.
There is that subtle curl of his lip, and the tiny lines that form around his eyes when they say I’m proud of you.
“I need a bit of fresh air. Excuse me.” I give him what I hope is a reassuring nod, and dash out through the glass double door.
The balcony overlooks Central Park, and I wish I could be down there with the people who are enjoying a normal weekend afternoon.
The irony is that many of them probably wish they could be spending it in this swanky hotel.
Do we always desire what seems unattainable?
The door behind me creaks. I sigh.
“I should have never allowed you to play house in New York.” My father steps beside me.
The air gets immediately colder. I want to wrap my hands around me, but I know better than to give him the satisfaction.
“Too late for that.” I don’t look at him, my gaze planted firmly on the glimmering lake.
“Your fiancé is out of his mind with his demands.”
“You wanted this. Did you really think it would cost you nothing?”
“Where did I go wrong with you, Roxanne? Stop rebelling with the black-dress shit. You’re my ticket to high society; don’t you dare fuck it up for me. Make your mother proud.”
I snap my head to him, my nostrils flaring. “Don’t you dare bring her into this.”
He snatches my arm. “You little—”
“Drop your hand now, Victor,” Liam’s words cut through the air. “I told you already, you should watch how you talk to my wife. And if you touch her again, I will feed your hand to rats,” he says softly.
My father drops my arm, his face crimson red. “What did you say?”
My brothers crowd behind Liam.
“You heard me, and if you don’t want me to rescind the invitation to the club, you better accept that I have standards. And if you want to play in high society, you better brush up on your manners.”
“Let’s take a few minutes,” Liam’s mother chirps. “Come, Victor, let’s have a digestif. Wedding preparations are awfully stressful.”
My father doesn’t look at me or Liam before he pushes past us, back inside, his sons stepping to the side. “Right, stressful as hell.”
Liam closes the door behind everyone, and we’re left alone. The air shifts. From dread to welcome. From mercurial to cordial. From cold to warm.
“I’m sorry about that. I know you can handle him. I just couldn’t help myself when I saw him grabbing you. Are you okay?” He touches my shoulders and runs his hands up and down my arms gently.
“Have you just apologized for defending me?”
“For not letting you defend yourself.”
My poor heart.
“How is it going in there?” I put my hands on his chest, The steady rhythm of his breath, the calm beat of his heart—it all grounds me. It feels like my safe harbor.
He groans. “I’ll need to take a CEO role.”
“Liam,” I whisper, “are you sure you want to continue this? You were so close to leaving the corporate life behind. Now you will be roped back into it.”
He pulls me into an embrace. “It’s okay. When you’re my wife, you don’t have to worry about him manipulating you. And Tawny and Lottie will be safe.”
I wrap my arms around his waist. “But what about you?”
He kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry about that. Your father allowed me to hire my own team. And Nico stays on the board.”
“Okay, Nico is the most reasonable, so that should work well. But—”
He puts his finger on my lips. “No buts. I can make my own decisions. Just like you make yours.”
What am I to say to that? This man is sacrificing his future to save mine. And I can’t stop him. Just like he doesn’t interfere with my decisions.
I hug him tighter.
He rests his head on my crown. “You will look great in a black gown.”
I snort, grateful for the reprieve. “I feel bad for ignoring your mom’s suggestions. I thought I would suffocate in there.”
“I don’t blame you.”
The contrast between him and my father hits me suddenly. He doesn’t see my behavior as difficult. I bury my face into his chest, letting the feelings claim my body.
“We should cancel the house hunting,” he says, and my heart skips a beat.
Is he giving up? Did his patience finally snap? Has an hour with my family confirmed for him I’m not worth the trouble?
The panic sets in. It doesn’t sneak in. It just detonates.
“Liam…” I can’t say what he needs to hear, and anything else just sounds pointless.
“Easy, Thunder.” He strokes my back. “We will hunt for a house when you’re ready. I will get a suite next door for now. It’s a hotel for long-term rentals. Like an apartment, but with all the hotel services. We can go look at it now, so you can decide if you like it.”
I let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t deserve you.”
He studies me, war brewing behind his eyes. “Love is not something you deserve. It’s something you allow.”
“I’m scared I will lose myself,” I whisper, finally opening up to him.
“Being together is a risk, but it can also be safety. You’re my safety. Let me be yours.”
Tears prickle behind my eyes. I clasp his lapels, holding him close. The oxygen doesn’t reach my lungs properly.
I hold on to him, even though I can’t claim him. But I can’t let him go either.
If I stay pressed against him like this, I’ll say yes to everything. And I won’t know if it’s love… or surrender.
“I’m scared that if I stay, I’ll stop thinking entirely. Everything is too confusing at the moment. It’s the circumstances. How we started. The baby that binds us forever. Your reassuring presence. Your steady support. Your love. I can’t think with you around me.” Tears roll freely now.
“What are you saying, Thunder?” He swallows.
He doesn’t move his hands away, and I can feel him flexing his fingers, the heels of his palms digging into my skin.
“I need space. And time. I need to be alone to figure this all out. To be sure.” Something in my chest cracks, dislodging a piece I might never get back.
His Adam’s apple bobs. “How much?”
“A month?”
He narrows his eyes. “Two weeks.”
I raise my eyebrows. I can’t believe he’s turning this into a negotiation. But also, I can believe it. And I’m grateful for it.
“Three weeks,” I counter, my voice shaking. I breathe lighter and heavier at the same time.
He studies me. Like he is committing to memory every single line on my face, the shade of my eyes, the shape of my nose. “I don’t like it.”
It’s a statement. No pressure. No control. Just information for me.
I open my mouth, but he cuts me off with a kiss. A kiss saying goodbye for now. A kiss that is supposed to make me remember him. And God, I will never forget the kiss.
Because I kiss him back. With all I can give, and everything I can’t give yet. What I can’t declare with words and actions yet, I channel into the kiss.
His lips are firm and soft at the same time. His tongue is persistent and adapting. His breath is warm and safe.
He kisses me like this is our last kiss.
Devastation.
Ruin.
Grief.
It really might be our last one.