Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LIAM
“ M om, can this wait?” I ask as she breezes into my home office. I’m deep in work, which is currently my only escape from dwelling on how bad I fucked up with Chloe.
It’s seven a.m., earlier than I thought Mom would be up. The gentle morning light pours in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on the steam rising from the coffee cup in her hand.
“Oh, I’ll only keep you a minute,” she reassures me, making herself comfortable in the armchair across from my desk. My scowl doesn't deter her; she's unusually chipper today.
“I just had my session with Chloe,” she blurts out.
Ah. There is it.
A sharp twinge of sadness stabs at me, and I quickly try to mentally steady myself, shoving the feelings back down.
It’s been weeks since Chloe left for London. She seems to have kept at least a few clients, including my mother, despite fleeing the country.
No calls, no texts. She wasn’t kidding when she said she wanted to end things.
“Mom, I’m really swamped right now,” I urge her to leave me alone, turning my attention back to my laptop.
“Chloe misses you,” she says suddenly.
My attention snaps back to her. What?
“Did she tell you that?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise.
“I can tell,” she nods, which really means no, Chloe didn’t actually say that.
I deflate, frustrated. “I don’t have time for this.”
“But here’s the thing,” my mom continues unfazed, “her dad’s girlfriend, Laura, keeps trying to set her up with men out there. Can you imagine?” she chuckles, as if it’s absurd.
My stomach churns at the thought of Chloe with someone else.
“There’s no way Chloe can move on that quickly after what you two had,” my mother says confidently, dismissing the idea.
I study my mother as she nonchalantly sips her coffee, but I know she’s playing a deeper game.
“I see what you’re doing, Mom.”
My mother disregards my comment and continues as if she’s simply chit-chatting. “She's been out with a British guy named Henry a few times. I’ve looked him up on Facebook; he’s not nearly as handsome as you, but that accent might compensate a bit?—”
“Mom, stop,” I interrupt, feeling a rush of irritation. “I can’t believe Chloe would discuss all this with you. Her sessions are supposed to focus on you, not her personal life.”
“Well, they did,” she replies with an innocent shrug. “But at the end, I asked her a few things, and she opened up.”
My heart sinks. I can’t stand to hear any more.
“Look, you’re trying to make me jealous— and I am ,” I admit, frustration boiling over. “But Chloe made it very clear that we’re done. She didn’t want a relationship anymore and moved to another country.”
I struggle to mask my hurt, but it’s palpable. My mother watches me, her expression unreadable. I silently plead for her to let the topic go.
Finally, she stands, her lips pursed in a tight line. Clearly, she’s upset, and I know better than to expect any comforting words now.
Instead, she reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. My stomach tightens as I recognize what it is.
She lays the diamond necklaces I gave Chloe as a gift on my desk. “Her friend, Ashley, dropped these off yesterday afternoon. You were busy working,” she explains the delay.
I thought Chloe kept them. Instead, she left them behind in her empty apartment, and her friend eventually got around to returning them.
A wave of rejection washes over me.
Just two days ago, I learned that my assistant helped Chloe wire back most of the money I paid her for our arrangement. It felt like yet another step she took to distance herself from me, cutting ties. The only funds she kept were already spent to pay the last few months of her office rent—a minor fraction of what I owed her, even with her ending things early.
She’s still accepting help from my legal team, which is the least I can do. But they're nearly finished cleaning up after the ransomware attack. Just last week, they made a breakthrough; after obtaining a warrant to seize Lucas’ electronics, they found evidence he’d paid a hacker to target Chloe. She was right. Now he's behind bars, and I've put top prosecutors on the case. Yet, despite this victory, Chloe hasn’t returned to Los Angeles. It has changed nothing.
Her actions send a clear message: it’s truly over. She seems to want nothing more from me and it hurts like hell.
My mother gives me a pitying look. “Liam, you are so courageous in your business—risking millions on ventures that aren’t guaranteed.” She gestures towards my computer. "It’s a shame you can’t harness that boldness in your personal life," she adds, her expression a blend of sadness and disappointment.
Ouch. Her words sting, like grinding salt into the wound.
"Thanks for the pep talk, Mom," I respond sarcastically, running my hands over my face as she leaves the room, giving me some space at last.
But now, I can’t concentrate on my work.