Chapter 56 Liam
Liam
I didn’t know what my life would look like without football. I didn’t even know who I would be without it. But these past two weeks have taught me a valuable lesson: it’s not what you do that defines you. It’s who stands beside you when the going gets tough.
It’s not the money, or the fame (that was never my thing anyway).
It’s Roman showing up with takeaway when I couldn’t find the energy to cook.
It’s Jack calling just to make sure I’m okay.
It’s Zoey sitting with me and Finn as I explain about Tash’s pregnancy, while he asks question after question through a torrent of tears.
It’s Zoey helping me hold him together afterward, so he knows he’s loved.
It’s family. The kind you’re born with and the kind you build. It’s the quality of people you surround yourself with. And in that sense, I’m a very wealthy man. The only thing missing is Anna. Her absence is threatening to swallow me whole.
I open our text thread from last Monday—the same one I’ve read a hundred times this week—my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Tempted to type out another message, I manage to resist.
Anna: I need you to provide a statement outlining when our relationship started.
Me: Done. Do you need anything else?
Anna: I need you to provide a statement about what Roger said… what he did.
Me: I’ll do whatever will help.
Her next message came through almost immediately. And no matter how many times I read it, her words still manage to settle into me, soaking into my marrow.
Anna: I love you.
Three words. That’s all I have right now, but it’s enough to give me hope that all isn’t lost. Every part of me still screams to go to her, to show up at her door like I did that night in the rain. But I can’t. I have to give her the space she needs, however long it takes.
So I settled for the only thing I can give her right now.
Me: I love you too.
I stared at the screen for days after, willing those three dots to appear, wishing she’d say more. Wishing she’d tell me when I can see her again. But they never came. Not that day and not in the week since.
“I’m crushing this level!” Finn shouts from his spot on the couch, pulling me from my thoughts. I look over. He’s got the PlayStation controller in one hand and a fistful of cheese crisps in the other, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Why don’t you wait until you put the controller down before grabbing the crisps, bud?” I ask.
He shoots me a wry look before shoving the whole handful into his mouth.
I shake my head, smiling, and head to the kitchen to start unloading the dishwasher. Anything that’ll keep me from checking my phone every five minutes to see if she’s messaged.
I’m stacking the plates on the bench when my phone rattles across the counter. My heartbeat surges as I check who’s calling.
“Jed,” I greet.
“Murphy, I need you to come into my office. Today if possible.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
“I have Finn—”
“Bring him. Our receptionist will keep him entertained.”
I tug the phone from my ear just enough to check the time. “All right. I can be there within an hour.”
“Great. See you soon.” The line dies.
Twenty minutes later I’m swerving through London traffic as I make my way to Jed’s offices in Islington. Finn’s bouncing in his seat as we pull into the parking garage.
“Why are we here?” he asks for the fifth time, unclipping his seatbelt.
Climbing out of the car, I sling an arm over his shoulder and pull him in close. “I just need to chat to my agent for a bit.”
“But what am I gonna do?”
“The receptionist has got the telly on for you,” I assure him.
He casts me a side-eye. “Will there be snacks?”
A laugh slips out of me. “I’m sure there will be.”
“Yes,” he murmurs, pumping his fist in victory as the lift doors slide open.
After Finn’s happily set up with the receptionist—who supplies him with enough snacks to spike his blood sugar for days—I’m led into one of the conference rooms, my heart lodged firmly in my throat. The door’s ajar and I hear a low rumble of voices inside. I push it open and step through.
Jed’s sitting at the head of a long table with Coach beside him, a laptop in front of them. Coach Miller’s smile is rueful.
My pulse riots when I see Danielle sitting at the far end of the table. She looks perfectly polished, as always, but I can see a hint of confusion, a small line between her brows. Stacey’s next to her, her hands folded tightly in her lap. She won’t meet anyone’s eyes.
“Coach. Jed. Stacey.” I nod in greeting.
Danielle scoffs.
Jed gestures to a seat in the middle of the table. Halfway between them. “Thanks for coming, Liam. Please, have a seat.”
Once I’m settled, Danielle squares her shoulders. “Now, Jed. Would you mind explaining why we’re all here?”
Jed’s gaze flits straight to Stacey. “Stacey, would you mind?”
Danielle stands, smoothing her skirt. “What’s this all about? I’m very—”
“Sit down, Danielle,” Jed growls. She blinks furiously before slowly lowering back into her seat.
Stacey stands, shuffling to Jed, who holds his palm out. Stacey drops a small black rectangle into his hand. A USB.
“What’s that?” Danielle straightens her posture. “Stacey,” she spits. “What are you doing?”
Stacey won’t look at her as she remains by Jed’s side. Coach Miller just leans back with a cocky smirk, arms folded over his chest.
“Cheers,” Jed says, plugging the USB into his laptop.
“What is this?” I ask, my eyes flicking between them.
He lowers the screen halfway, fixing me with a stern look. “Now, Liam. What I’ve got here changes things.” His chin jerks toward Stacey. “Stacey was brave enough to come forward with something that might just save your arse and get you back on the pitch.”
I look at Stacey. She tucks her ebony hair behind her ear and drops her gaze to her lap. “I have access to Danielle’s iCloud,” she says quietly.
Danielle springs up so fast. “What the hell, Stacey?”
“Will you SIT, Danielle,” Jed orders. Danielle cowers, sitting again.
My pulse kicks up. “What is it?”
“I was looking for a client file when I found… I couldn’t keep it to myself,” Stacey murmurs.
“Before I show you,” Jed says, looking directly at me. “I need you to keep your head on straight.”
I cut him a sidelong glance and give a curt nod.
Jed jabs the spacebar of his laptop. The conference room wall comes alive as the projector shows a video in stark, oversized clarity.
My gut hollows out as I recognize the location.
It’s Finn’s school. Then I see her. Anna’s standing near the front gates, phone in hand, smiling at something on the screen.
She looks so relaxed. So beautiful. So happy.
My fists clench as Roger appears behind her, moving far closer than I’m comfortable with. He leans over her shoulder, reading whatever’s on her screen—I’m assuming my message.
Anna turns and lurches away from him. She tries to create distance but he crowds her. My nostrils flare. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but I can read Roger’s expression. His face twists and his eyes darken. He’s pissed.
Anna shakes her head, tucking her phone away when his hand shoots out and grabs her elbow. And he isn’t gentle about it. I can see her mouth tilting down as his fingers dig into her arm. She tried to yank him off but he doesn’t let up.
I grind my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t shatter.
His face is colored with rage as she tries to shake him off. Then I appear.
The punch happens exactly how I remember it. Fast and brutal. Roger hits the ground and moments later, the video cuts to black.
I sit back, cold sweat forming over my brow. When I turn to Danielle, her face is drained of color. “It was you,” I say.
Her mouth flops open and closed. “I—I did not,” she stammers.
“You did,” Stacey’s voice comes from the other end of the room. She finally looks up. “I found it on your iCloud. The original file and the edited file.”
Danielle’s eyes flash. “You went through my private files?!”
“That’s not the issue here,” Jed growls.
“I didn’t—”
“You did, Danielle.” Jed’s voice cracks like a whip.
I blink. “You’re the one who filmed this.” It isn’t a question. My gaze slices to her as the question claws out of me. “You’ve been following me?”
Her mask finally slips as she shoots to her feet. “I saved your pathetic career! And what did I get? Nothing!”
“So you followed me? You filmed Anna?” I’m up in two seconds, palms hitting the table as heat burns through my veins. “How long have you been following me, Danielle?”
She turns to Jed and Coach Miller. “He deserved it!” she shouts. “Do you hear me? He used me then threw me away like I was nothing!”
“Danielle, we weren’t an item. We didn’t have anything to throw away!”
“You were my client!” she screams, thrusting a finger in my direction. “I saved your career when no one else would touch you!”
“So?” I snap, pointing at the laptop. “This is totally insane, Danielle!”
“You used me!”
“I never used you, Danielle!”
“You slept with me!”
“I can’t remember a bloody thing! You say we slept together but I was plastered! How the hell is that consent? I’ve regretted it every fucking day since!”
Her face is crimson now, streaked with angry tears. “I DIDN’T GET YOU BLACKOUT DRUNK SO YOU’D CHOOSE HER!” Her knees buckle and she lurches forward, catching herself on the table. Her eyes are wild as they lift to mine.
The words drop like a grenade and the room goes silent.
“Excuse me?” I bite out, taking a step closer.
“Oh please. You needed me and I helped you that night.” Her laugh is maniacal. “You were so torn up over that slut ex-girlfriend of yours that after a couple drinks, all I had to do was bat my lashes.”
“Jesus Christ,” Coach Miller breathes.
“Why?” Stacey’s voice is small.
“I LOVE HIM!” Danielle wails, her voice tearing. “Don’t you understand? I did everything for him! For us! I got him his contract with Chiswick Park United. I rebuilt his image. And he just—he just wanted her. Some basic little schoolteacher bitch, who—”
“Enough!” My voice shakes with rage. “You stalked me. You filmed me without my knowledge. You edited evidence to destroy my career and Anna’s. You’ve gone fucking mad!”
“You were supposed to be mine!”
“I’m not a bloody object to possess, I’m a human being!”
She moves around the table toward me and Jed stands, blocking her path. “Get back, Danielle.”
She’s not listening. Her eyes are glazed, mascara tracking down her face. “I worked for this. I EARNED you. She doesn’t deserve you!”
“This is evidence of defamation,” Jed says flatly. “Not to mention intentional infliction of emotional distress. On top of the stalking. I’m calling the police.”
Danielle lunges for the door, but I beat her to it, arms out, blocking the exit as Jed reaches for his phone. After a quick word with security, he calls the police.
“NO!” Danielle screams, dropping to the floor, fingers tangled in her hair as she curls into a ball.
Stacey’s hands fly to her mouth as she watches the scene unfurl. Tears bleed down her cheeks as well.
“I’m the only one who can love you. I’m the only one who can help you. You will love me. You will love me.” Danielle chants over and over, rocking back and forth.
Footsteps thud down the corridor and I move to unblock the doorway. Two large men in suits burst into the room. They approach her carefully. “Madam, why don’t you take a seat?”
Danielle goes stone-still. Then she starts laughing. It’s a broken, deranged sound that raises the hair on my arms. “Fuck you, Liam,” she grits out before clambering to her feet. She flings herself at me, but the security guards catch her, holding her firmly.
“Get her out of here,” Jed barks.
She’s restrained as they drag her from the room, kicking and shrieking. The door slams behind them, cutting her voice mid-scream. Collectively, the room exhales.
Stacey turns toward the door to follow them, but Jed stops her. “Stacey. Where do you think you’re going?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh. I was just—I thought I should… go pack my things. I—”
“You’re not going anywhere.” His tone is steel. “You work for me now.”
Her breath catches. “For you?”
He nods. “You came forward. That took guts. You think I’m letting you walk?” He shakes his head. “This is my company, and I respect your loyalty. I have a spot on my team available, and I’d like you to fill it.”
Stacey’s mouth parts before her cheeks stain red. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say yes.” His voice is softer.
She rolls her lips, nodding. “Okay.”
“Excellent,” he says, giving the lapels of his jacket a hard tug.
I sink back, wordlessly, into my chair, as the adrenaline crash hits me hard.
“Jesus Christ.” Coach Miller breaks the silence, letting out a slow breath as he scrubs a hand down his face. “I’ve been in the business fifteen years, and I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Too true. I’ll be breaking this clusterfuck down with my therapist when I see him later this week.
I’m still staring at the wall, my hands trembling, when the police enter. They’re efficient, pens scraping across paper as they take each of our statements along with the video footage. By the time they’re done, we’re all wrung out and empty.
Coach Miller leans forward, forearms braced against the table, pinning me with his gaze. “Son.”
My eyes drag to his.
“We’re getting you back on the field.”
I look at Stacey. “Do you have a copy of that footage?”
Her brows weld together. “Yeah?”
“Good. I need to send it to someone.”