Liam’s POV
After days of avoiding Guerrero’s calls, I finally deed myself fit to return to the office. The seclusion of my mansion had beco unbearable—reporters camping outside, jobless people driving by to throw trash at my gate, vandals spray-painting obscenities on my property. With each passing day since Diane’s interview, the public’s hatred had grown more tangible, more vicious.
I adjusted my Tom Ford tie in the rearview mirror as Thomas, my driver, pulled up to the Synergy Sphere building. The reflection that stared back at looked composed, powerful—a careful illusion I’d perfected over years. Only the shadows beneath my eyes betrayed the turmoil beneath.
"I’ll call when I’m ready to leave," I told Thomas, stepping out into the crisp morning air.
As I strode through the lobby, conversations halted. Employees averted their eyes, their whispers following like ghosts. Let them talk. Let them wonder. I was still Liam Ashton, and this was still my company.
"What?" I snapped at a group of analysts who were staring too openly. They flinched, scattering like startled birds. Power surged through at their reaction—at least here, I could still command fear.
The elevator ride to the executive floor was rcifully empty. When the doors opened, my secretary Vanessa nearly collided with , her eyes widening in surprise.
"Mr. Ashton!" she exclaid, clutching a tablet to her chest. "We weren’t expecting you today."
"Clearly," I replied dryly, brushing past her toward my office.
She hurried after , her heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor. "Sir, Mr. Guerrero has been calling repeatedly. He insisted that I inform him imdiately if you ca in—"
"And?" I interrupted, not breaking stride.
"He wants an ergency board eting, sir. He said he’d co right away and call the other board mbers himself."
I reached my office door, turning to face her with a dismissive wave. "I heard you. When they’re all here, I’ll join them. Now, I need so ti alone."
Relief flickered across her face as she nodded and retreated. I closed the door firmly behind , surveying my domain—the corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows, the custom mahogany desk, the awards and accolades lining the walls. All symbols of what I’d built, what I’d earned.
What was now at risk.
I began pacing, my mind racing. "What the hell does Guerrero think he’s going to do?" I muttered to myself, hands clenched into fists. "Vote out? ? The founder?" I laughed, a harsh sound in the quiet office. "If he thinks he’s smart, I’ll show him who’s smarter."
My confidence grew with each step. I knew things about Guerrero—things he thought were buried deep. If Guerrero pushed , I’d bury him.
A sharp knock interrupted my plotting. Before I could respond, the door swung open to reveal Guerrero himself, flanked by several board mbers.
"Liam," he said, his voice cold and formal. "The board is assembled in the conference room. Your presence is required imdiately."
I straightened my shoulders, adopting an expression of mild boredom. "I was just about to join you. Lead the way."
The conference room fell silent as I entered, twelve pairs of eyes tracking my movents. I noted the empty chair where Noah should have been sitting, a conspicuous absence that unsettled more than I cared to admit. Where was my oldest friend when I needed him most?
I took my seat at the head of the table, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate casualness. "Well? I understand this is an ergency. What’s so urgent it couldn’t wait for our regularly scheduled eting?"
Guerrero remained standing, his expression grim. "Liam, over the past few weeks, this company has faced unprecedented challenges. Our stock has fallen fifteen percent since your wife’s interview. Three major clients have pulled their contracts. The Reign Project disaster was just the beginning."
"Temporary setbacks," I interjected smoothly. "Markets fluctuate. Clients co and go. That’s business."
"No," Guerrero contradicted sharply. "That’s failure. Your personal scandals have beco professional liabilities. Your absence during this crisis has been noted and discussed by this board." He placed his palms on the table, leaning forward. "The conclusion is clear: you are no longer fit to lead Synergy Sphere."
Heat rose in my neck, but I kept my expression neutral. "Is that so?"
"We’ve called this eting to vote on your removal as CEO," Guerrero continued. "The bylaws are clear—a two-thirds majority is all that’s required."
"And Noah?" I asked, gesturing to the empty chair. "Shouldn’t all board mbers be present for such an important decision?"
An older board mber—Richard, I think—cleared his throat. "We attempted to contact Mr. Hemsworth. He declined to attend but sent his proxy vote."
Betrayal sliced through , sharp and unexpected. Noah had abandoned completely.
"Very well," I said, my voice steady despite the rage building inside . "Let’s get this farce over with."
The vote was quick and brutal. Two votes in my favor—mine and Richard, a longti ally. Six votes against , plus Noah’s proxy. The math was devastatingly simple.
"The motion carries," Guerrero announced, satisfaction evident in his tone. "Liam Ashton is hereby removed as CEO of Synergy Sphere, effective imdiately."
I slamd my hands on the table, rising to my feet. "You can’t do this! None of you can!"
The board mbers recoiled, several hastily gathering their papers and retreating toward the door. Only Guerrero stood his ground, matching my fury with cold disdain.
As the room emptied, leaving just the two of us, I advanced on him, my composure finally cracking. "What the hell is your problem, Guerrero? You’ve been gunning for for so long. Is that it? You want my company? Want to take everything I’ve built?"
He didn’t back down, eting my gaze steadily. "What I want, Liam, is to save this company from your self-destruction. Your ego, your recklessness, your complete disregard for anyone but yourself—it ends today."
I stepped closer, until we were inches apart. "You think you’ve won? Think again. I know about Ocean Drive," I hissed, satisfaction blooming as color drained from his face.
Guerrero sank into a chair, visibly shaken. I pressed my advantage, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "1456 Ocean Drive, Apartnt 7B. Sound familiar? Push too far, and I’ll make sure every sordid detail becos front-page news."
Before I could turn to leave, Guerrero regained his composure, his voice hardening. "I also need all financial reports in your possession related to Synergy Sphere. Every docunt, every file...I want them handed over with imdiate effect."
I scoffed. "You’re out of your mind."
"This isn’t a request, Liam. It’s a demand from the board. We need full transparency, especially given the circumstances of your...."
I straightened, savoring his shocked expression from my earlier revelation. "Rember what I said before you try to move against again."
With that, I stord out, anger propelling through the hallways. Employees scattered before as I made my way to the elevator, fumbling for my phone to call Thomas. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely dial, rage and humiliation coursing through in equal asure.
"Thomas," I barked when he answered. "Front entrance. Now."
The ride down was interminable, rage simring in my chest. How dare they? How dare they take my company, my creation? First Diane, now this. Everyone I’d trusted had turned against .
Thomas was waiting at the curb, the car door already open. I slid into the backseat, slamming the door behind .
"Where to, sir?" he asked, eyeing warily in the rearview mirror.
"Just drive," I ordered, loosening my tie with jerky movents. "Anywhere. I need to think."
We pulled away from the curb, joining the flow of downtown traffic. My mind raced with possibilities, with plans for revenge and redemption. I’d start a new company. I’d poach Synergy’s best talent. I’d destroy Guerrero. I’d show Diane what a mistake she’d made.
So consud was I with these thoughts that I barely noticed when Thomas took an unfamiliar turn, heading away from our usual routes.
"Where are we going?" I demanded, glancing out the window at unfamiliar surroundings.
"Short cut, sir," Thomas replied smoothly. "Avoiding the construction on Fifth."
I nodded absently, returning to my vengeful planning. It wasn’t until we approached a red light and a black SUV abruptly pulled in front of us, blocking our path, that alarm bells began to ring.
"What the hell?" I leaned forward. "Thomas, what’s going on?"
Thomas looked as alard as I felt, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. "I don’t know, sir...I’ve never seen this vehicle before—"
Before he could finish, two n in black suits erged from the SUV, approaching our car with purposeful strides. My heart rate spiked, instinct screaming danger.
"Thomas, back up. Now!" I shouted.
Thomas frantically tried to reverse, but we were boxed in by traffic behind us. "I can’t, sir! We’re trapped!"
One of the n had already wrenched my door open, his massive fra blocking any escape. A fist connected with my jaw, snapping my head back. Before I could recover, rough hands dragged from the vehicle.
I caught a glimpse of Thomas’s horrified face as he reached for his phone, presumably to call for help, before one of the attackers smashed the driver’s window and struck him unconscious.
I fought wildly, landing a solid blow to one attacker’s stomach, but they overwheld with brutal efficiency. A cloth pressed against my face, the chemical sll burning my nostrils. I held my breath as long as I could, struggling against the iron grip that held , but eventually my lungs betrayed .
One desperate inhale, and the world began to blur. My limbs grew heavy, my struggles weakening. The last thing I saw was the unconscious form of my driver slumped over the steering wheel as consciousness slipped away.
---
I awoke to pain...dull, throbbing, all-encompassing. My head felt stuffed with cotton, my mouth bone-dry. Gradually, my senses returned, bringing with them the horrifying realization that I was restrained...tightly bound to a chair, which itself seed secured to sothing solid behind .
The room was dimly lit, industrial, the concrete walls stained with water damage and graffiti. A warehouse of so kind, long abandoned based on the layers of dust visible in the corners. The two n who had abducted stood nearby, their suits incongruously formal in these squalid surroundings.
"Who are you?" I croaked, my voice raw. "What do you want? Money? I can—"
One of them silenced with a backhanded slap that rocked my head sideways. "Shut up."
Who would want like this—helpless, frightened, at her rcy.
As if conjured by my thoughts, a tal door scraped open sowhere behind . Soft footsteps approached, then circled into view.
The figure dragged a tal folding chair across the concrete, the harsh scraping setting my teeth on edge. Positioning it directly before .
"Remove his blindfold," she instructed one of the n.
I hadn’t even realized I was blindfolded until the man reached for the fabric covering my eyes. I twisted my head, trying to evade his grasp, but a vicious punch to my ribs stilled instantly. The pain was explosive, stealing my breath. When the blindfold ca away, I blinked rapidly against the sudden light, however dim.
As my vision cleared, I found Diane studying , her expression unreadable behind those dark glasses.
"So it is you," I managed, my voice hoarse from screaming I couldn’t rember. "You did this to ."
Her lips curved in a cold smile. "What a pleasant surprise, Liam. Fancy eting you here."
What followed was a nightmare beyond anything I could have imagined. Diane’s cold recitation of my sins. The manicure set laid out like torture instrunts. The cuticle pusher driving into my hand. The nail clippers tearing away my fingernail in a blinding burst of agony.
I begged. I pleaded. I sobbed. Nothing moved her. The woman before was a stranger wearing Diane’s face, her cold precision more terrifying than any rage could have been.
She leaned down, bringing her face inches from mine. "I’m going to ruin you bit by bit, Liam. By the ti I’m done, your na will be poison. Every door will close in your face. Every forr friend will cross the street to avoid you." Her voice was low, intimate, as if sharing a secret. "And you will sign the divorce papers and send them to my lawyer. You will give my freedom, all the financial entitlent and full custody of my children. Because if you don’t, next ti, I won’t be so rciful."
When she finally left, I hung my head in defeat, tears and sweat mingling on my face. Behind , I heard low conversation—her instructions to her henchn, I assud. Then the door scraped open and closed again, and silence fell.
"Let’s get this over with," one of the n muttered. They untied from the pillar, though my hands and feet remained bound. My body scread in protest as they hauled upright, half-dragging through a labyrinth of empty warehouse spaces.
Outside, the bright sunlight was blinding after the dim interior. They shoved into the back of a truck, the tal floor cold against my skin. One of them produced a knife, and for a horrible mont, I thought this was the end—that Diane had ordered my death after all.
Instead, he cut away my clothes, leaving in nothing but my dirty ripped pants. I was too broken to resist, too defeated to do anything but lie there as they stripped away the last of my dignity.
The truck rumbled to life, jolting painfully over potholes and uneven streets. I had no idea where we were going, but by now, I almost didn’t care. Let them kill . Let this be over.
The truck ca to an abrupt halt. The back doors swung open, and hands roughly grabbed , dragging toward the opening. Without ceremony, they tossed out, my body hitting concrete with a sickening thud.
"Have a nice day, Mr. CEO," one of them sneered, before slamming the doors. The truck sped away, leaving sprawled half-naked on what I gradually realized was a busy sidewalk.
Voices surrounded —shocked exclamations, soone shouting about calling an ambulance. Footsteps approached and retreated. Cara flashes stabbed at my eyes.
"Oh my God, that’s Liam Ashton!"
"The Synergy Sphere CEO?"
"Quick, get a picture!"
More flashes as people took out their phones, docunting my humiliation. I could hear laughter, cruel and mocking, as pedestrians passed by.
"Not so high and mighty now, huh?"
"Look at how he’s disgracing his innocent wife, poor woman!"
"Damn, karma’s real!"
I tried to move, to crawl sowhere, anywhere less exposed, but my body refused to cooperate.
"Sir? Can you hear ? An ambulance is coming."
A woman’s voice, tinged with concern but careful not to get too close. I tried to respond, but my swollen lips could only manage a groan. The taste of blood coated my tongue, tallic and sickening.
I had never felt so utterly humiliated, so completely destroyed. I am Liam Ashton—feared, respected, powerful. Now I was a spectacle, a broken thing on display for the world’s entertainnt.
The ambulance arrived. Paradics approached cautiously, as if I might be dangerous rather than broken. Gentle hands covered my near-naked body with a blanket before lifting onto a stretcher. The movent sent fresh waves of agony through my battered form.
"Multiple contusions... possible broken ribs... trauma to the hand..." One paradic rattled off observations to another as they loaded into the ambulance.
At the hospital, the nurses gasped as they wheeled into the ergency room.
"That’s Liam Ashton!" one whispered to another. "Diane’s husband—well, soon to be ex-husband."
"What happened to him?" another asked, her eyes wide with shock as she took in my battered state.
"No idea, but he looks terrible."
"Call Dr. Chen, Now!" Another nurse yelled.
I rember that na—she has been Diane’s doctor during her normal physical checkups when I’d accompanied her.
As if on cue, Dr. Chen appeared, standing right beside . The recognition was mutual; her expression was a mix of shock and sothing else... was it satisfaction?
"We don’t need ID," she told her colleague. "Everyone knows who he is. Let’s get him to a room quickly, before the press shows up."
A needle slid into my arm, and blessed numbness began to spread through my veins. As consciousness slipped away, Diane’s final words echoed in my mind.
"I’m going to ruin you bit by bit, Liam. By the ti I’m done, your na will be poison."
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