Liam’s POV
The missing docunts haunted my every waking mont. I’d barely eaten, barely slept, pacing the marble floors of my mansion like a caged animal.
The realization that soone had infiltrated my most private sanctuary, my safe, my secrets...gnawed at with relentless persistence. Who had taken them? How had they known the combination? The questions circled endlessly in my mind, each one more damning than the last.
I stood at my bedroom window, watching the morning sun cast long shadows across my mansion. The irony wasn’t lost on —I owned all of this, yet I felt more trapped than ever.
The missing docunts were a ticking ti bomb. Company deeds, This mansion’s deed, offshore accounts, proof of financial impropriety...all in the hands of soone who clearly ant to destroy .
For three weeks, I’d been calling Sophie’s number obsessively. Three weeks of going straight to voicemail, of listening to that sa generic automated ssage until I’d morized every inflection. Where the hell was she?
I decided to try again, phone pressed to my ear as her voicemail played for what must have been the hundredth ti. "This is Sophie. Leave a ssage and I’ll get back to you." The beep echoed in the silence, mocking .
"Sophie, it’s again," I said, my voice hoarse from strain. "I need to know what’s happening. Did you talk to Diane? Did she suspect anything? Call back, damn it!"
I ended the call and imdiately hit redial. Straight to voicemail again.
The plan had been simple—Sophie would approach Diane with false remorse, gain her trust, and feed information about her next moves. It was brilliant and simple. Sophie knew Diane better than anyone, knew exactly which emotional buttons to push. But now, left on the hollow of radio silence.
Mr. Ashton?" A deep voice interrupted my brooding. I turned to see Anthony, the bodyguard I’d hired after my encounter with Diane.
He was a mountain of a man, ex-military, with arms like tree trunks and eyes that missed nothing. After what Diane had done to , after being dragged from my car and tortured in that warehouse, I wasn’t taking any more chances.
"What is it, Anthony?" I asked, not bothering to hide my irritation.
"Thomas is here, sir."
I nodded curtly. At least Thomas had remained loyal, even if everyone else in my life had abandoned . "Let him in."
As Anthony left, I caught my reflection in the mirror. The bruises from Diane’s "session" had faded, but the haunted look in my eyes remained. I looked like a man on the edge of a breakdown, which wasn’t far from the truth.
Thomas appeared in my doorway monts later, his usual composed deanor intact. But I caught sothing in his expression as his eyes shifted to Anthony, who stood guard beside the door. A slow, almost unnoticeable smile played at the corners of Thomas’s mouth.
"Is this protection enough?" he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. "It’s clear he didn’t listen to my advice the last ti."
The words hit like a physical slap. My head snapped toward him, eyes blazing with fury. "Excuse ? What did you just say?"
Thomas’s eyes widened, his hands imdiately flying up in surrender. "Nothing, sir. I was just..."
"I heard exactly what you said." My voice was ice-cold, each word carefully enunciated. "You think one bodyguard isn’t enough? You think I didn’t listen to your advice?" I stepped closer, my rage building. "What advice, Thomas? The advice to what? To roll over and die? To let Diane destroy completely?"
"Sir, I didn’t an—"
"Get out." The words ca out as a snarl. "Get to the car. We’re leaving."
Thomas nodded hastily, backing out of the house. I followed, grabbing my jacket and phone, my movents sharp and angry. Anthony fell into step behind , despite the tension crackling in the air.
The ride to Sophie’s apartnt was tense and silent. I sat in the back seat, my jaw clenched so tightly it ached. Thomas kept glancing at in the rearview mirror, but I ignored him. I needed Sophie. She was the only person left who might still care about .
Anthony remained silent beside Thomas, his professional deanor intact. At least soone was doing their job properly.
"Pull over here," I instructed as we approached Sophie’s street.
"Anthony," I said as we sat in the car, "I need you to go upstairs and ask about Sophie. Apartnt 4B. I don’t want to cause a scene or have people recognizing . If she’s there, tell her I need to speak with her urgently."
Anthony nodded and exited the vehicle, his massive fra disappearing into the modest apartnt building. I watched through the windshield, my fingers drumming nervously against my thigh. Sothing was wrong. I could feel it in my bones.
Minutes stretched like hours. When Anthony finally erged, his expression was grim, and my heart sank before he even reached the car.
He slid into the passenger seat and turned to face . "I’m sorry, sir. The neighbor said she moved out. Left no forwarding address. They said the apartnt’s been empty for more than a week."
The words hit like a physical blow. "No," I whispered, then louder, "No, that can’t be right. She wouldn’t just leave."
But even as I said it, the terrible possibilities began flooding my mind. Had Sophie been discovered? Had Diane sohow found out about our plan and threatened her?
The thought of Sophie in danger because of sent a cold chill down my spine. Or worse—had Sophie played ? Had she taken my money and disappeared, leaving to face this nightmare alone?
The thought of betrayal cut deeper than I expected. Sophie had been my confidante, my partner in this war against Diane. If she had deceived ...
"Sir?" Anthony’s voice seed to co from far away. "What would you like to do?"
"Drive," I commanded Thomas, my voice raw with emotion. "Take to the office."
As Thomas pulled away from the building, I felt another piece of my world crumble. Sophie was gone. Just like everyone else, she had abandoned when I needed her most. The rage that had been simring inside finally boiled over.
"Damn it!" I slamd my fist against the car seat, the impact sending a shock of pain up my arm. "Damn it all to hell!"
The familiar weight of my phone in my pocket reminded of all the unanswered calls I’d been avoiding. Guerrero’s demands for financial reports. Board mbers asking questions I couldn’t answer. It felt like the walls were closing in from every corner.
We were halfway back to the office when my phone rang. Holbrook’s na flashed on the screen, and for a mont, desperate hope flickered in my chest. Maybe he’d changed his mind. Maybe he was calling to say he’d reconsidered.
"Richard," I answered, trying to keep the desperation out of my voice.
"Liam." His tone was all business, cold and professional. "I’m calling to inform you that Joan sent an email. Diane wants to filed a motion in court requiring you to sign the divorce papers. If you refuse, she’s threatening to present what she calls ’damning evidence’ against you, and you know exactly what she’s talking about."
My blood turned to ice. "Court? What are you talking about?"
"I don’t know the specifics, and frankly, I don’t want to know." Holbrook’s voice was matter-of-fact. "What I do know is that my decision not to represent you still stands. You need to find yourself another attorney, Liam. I’ve warned you repeatedly to just get this over with, to stop fooling around. Diane has the upper hand, but you’ve refused to listen to my advice. I’m done."
The phone felt slippery in my sweating palm. "Richard, please. You can’t do this to . I need you. I’ll pay you whatever you want, I’ll—"
"Goodbye, Liam."
The line went dead. I stared at the phone in disbelief, the silence in the car suddenly deafening. Holbrook had actually hung up on . My own lawyer, a man I’d paid millions over the years, had cut off like I was nothing.
My hands were shaking as I scrolled through my contacts to find Diane’s number.
The phone rang twice before she picked up.
"What do you want, Liam?" Her voice was cold, distant, completely devoid of the warmth that had once been there.
"What’s wrong with you?" The words poured out of in a desperate rush.
"Why are you acting like a devil sent to destroy ? You want to take everything away from , everything I’ve worked for. And the most painful part—" my voice cracked, "—you don’t want to et my children. My own children, Diane. How can you be so cruel?
There was a pause, and when she spoke again, her voice was flat and final. "Sign the divorce papers, Liam. I’m done with your bullshit. In fact, see you in court."
The line went dead.
I sat there staring at the phone, stunned by the finality in her voice. This wasn’t the Diane I’d married, the gentle woman who used to worry about little things. This was soone else entirely, soone cold and calculating and utterly ruthless. It was as if an evil had possessed her, transforming her into my personal torntor for what I had done to her.
Thomas kept glancing at in the rearview mirror, his expression unreadable. Marcus sat rigid in the passenger seat, maintaining his professional silence.
Everything was falling apart. My lawyer had abandoned . My company is on the verge of being stolen from under my feet. Sophie had vanished without a trace. And now Diane was threatening criminal charges—charges that could destroy what little I had left.
I closed my eyes and leaned back against the leather seat, feeling the weight of my isolation pressing down on like a physical force. I was truly alone now, surrounded by enemies and abandoned by allies.
"Turn around," I said suddenly, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Sir?" Thomas glanced at in the rearview mirror.
"I said turn around!" I shouted, making both n jump. "Take ho. I’m not going to the office. I need to think."
Thomas executed a careful U-turn, navigating us back toward my mansion. In the rearview mirror, I caught him still stealing glances at , his expression unreadable. The concern in his eyes only made angrier.
"What?" I snapped, catching him looking.
Thomas quickly averted his eyes, tilting his head slightly. "Nothing, sir."
Back at the mansion, I went straight to my study. I needed to call Vanessa, needed to understand what was happening at my company while my world fell apart.
"Vanessa," I said when she picked up, trying to inject so authority into my voice. "I need you to fill in on everything that’s been happening in my absence today. And reschedule all my appointnts for tomorrow."
There was an uncomfortable pause before she responded. "Mr. Ashton, I... there are no appointnts to reschedule."
"What do you an there are no appointnts?"
"Mr. Guerrero has instructed that all etings and information requests should go through him now, not you. He said that as the interim CEO, he needs to be the primary point of contact for all business matters for now."
The phone creaked in my grip. "He said what?"
"I’m sorry, sir. I’m just following orders. Mr. Guerrero made it very clear that—"
I ended the call before she could finish, the phone clattering to my desk as I released it. The rage that consud was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, a white-hot fury that made my vision blur and my hands shake.
"GUERRERO!" I roared, the na echoing through my study like a battle cry.
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