Chapter 2 MEETING MY CRUSH!

LIORA'S POV:

"I can't believe I was so foolish, allowing myself to fall head over heels for someone so utterly evil," I confessed to Patricia, sitting on her bed, utterly spent after a night spent in tears.

"He's not worth your tears, trust me," Patricia assured me, my head gently resting on her shoulders as I got comfort and support.

"I regret severing my relationship with my family over that disagreement. Reflecting on it now, I see clearly that I made a mistake," I mused.

"You should seriously consider getting a divorce from him," She advised earnestly.

"You don't need to say that; it's already set in motion. I've informed my attorney, and he's already working on it," I explained.

"Hello, Mr. Ford," I said as I dialed my lawyer's number.

"Are the divorce papers ready?" I asked, eager to get everything finalized and move on from all of this.

"Yes, they're ready and will be delivered to him," he assured me.

"Okay, thanks. I'll be waiting to hear from you," I said with relief as I ended the call.

LEONARD'S POV:

"Why the hell didn't you send the designs I asked for?" I roared at the head of design unit of my company.

"Sir," she stuttered nervously.

"Speak up! Do you think we're here to play games?" I shouted angrily.

"No, sir, but the person who was designing the accessories has wiped her computer, so we don't have any outstanding samples" she explained nervously.

"Is that person mad? Whose order was this done on? This is my company, and I make all the decisions," I asked incredulously.

"Sir, it's your wife," she stuttered, revealing the unexpected truth.

"What do you mean it's my wife?" I asked, feeling perplexed and taken aback by the revelation.

"We discovered that Mrs. Liora's designs being displayed are the ones that are mostly purchased. So, she took it upon herself to do all the designs, even without being paid," she explained.

"What?!" I exclaimed, standing up in shock.

"But Sir, you can call her and ask her to bring them" she attempted to say, her voice wavering.

I shouted, "Get out of my office, you incompetent fool!"

Suddenly, the intercom began to ring, diverting my attention to the impending tragedy.

"Sir, you have a visitor," my secretary informed me.

"Let the person in," I said, gesturing for my secretary to allow the visitor's entry.

"Good morning, Mr. Leonard Steven," the visitor greeted.

"Morning," I replied, forcing a smile as I greeted the visitor. Deep inside, a storm of anxiety churned. Everything I had painstakingly built seemed on the brink of collapse.

"My name is Mr. Ford," he began, his tone formal and deliberate as he stood before me.

"Have a seat" I gestured.

"I represent Liora Faith Hearthstone," he continued, his presence commanding attention in the room.

"An attorney?" I asked, a sense of foreboding creeping over me as the realization dawned.

"Yes, and here are the divorce papers already signed by your wife. The allegations and reasons for the annulment are all detailed here," he said, handing over the documents with a solemn expression.

"You can go ahead and review it now and sign. I have all the time in the world to wait," the man said, his tone tinged with annoyance.

"I'm not going over any divorce papers, and I'm never going to divorce my wife. Tell her that," I said firmly, my tone laced with aggression.

"Then I suppose we'll settle this in court," he said, his statement fueling my growing annoyance.

"Get out of my office," I said angrily, my frustration boiling over.

"Have a good day," he remarked courteously as he departed from the office.

"Just get out!" I snapped, infuriated by his unbothered demeanor.

"Annoying, so damn annoying," I muttered through gritted teeth, slamming my hand down on the table in frustration.

"I've just learned that my wife is a Hearthstone. The anonymous genius behind my best crafts and designs has been her all along, and now she's serving me divorce papers? She thinks I'll let her walk away? No chance. She won't destroy my life and everything I've worked so hard for. She's chosen the wrong person to mess with. I will ensure she stays, no matter what," I vowed, my resolve unwavering despite the storm of emotions inside me.

LIORA'S POV:

The music played softly in the dimly lit room as I raised the glass to my lips, contemplating quietly as the song played in the background, "Maybe I'm not even in a gown."

"I'm devastated by everything that's happened to me. Why the hell would Leonard decline the divorce papers? I'll definitely see him in court because I can't be with a beast like him. Not at all," I vowed, my determination clear despite the pain.

Here I am at the club, sulking over how my miserable life has turned out to be, and for what? Love? I thought to myself, leaning on the counter.

"God, I need to use the bathroom," I muttered to myself to the restroom, I'm a bit tipsy already. I took care of business, and then stumbled back out. But the more I walked, the more intoxicated I became.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed as I felt about to drop to the floor.

As I stumbled and nearly lost my balance, a sudden support steadied me—a good Samaritan who appeared just in time. When I lifted my head to thank them, I found myself gazing into the familiar, mesmerizing ocean-blue eyes of a man. His rugged beard added to his strikingly handsome face, framed under a black baseball cap. His lips were enticing, and our locked gaze stirred a familiar feeling inside me—I realized with a start that he was my long-standing crush.

"Why are you here, huh?" His question jolted me back to awareness, forcing me to confront the unexpected encounter.

"Ronan?," I called, regaining my composure as I stood up straight to face him.

He looked striking in a black shirt and blue jeans, which perfectly highlighted his strong, masculine frame.

It had been a while since I'd seen Ronan Wolf, my older brother's very tight friend. He looks even more handsome than I remembered.

"Liora, what are you doing here all alone? Or are you here with your husband?" he asked, igniting anger within me as I remembered my predicament.

"No!" I replied angrily as I make my way back to where I was sitted.

"Watch it," he said firmly, his hands wrapping around my waist, sending a jolt through my body as I nearly stumbled again. "He's going to think I'm still a kid," I thought to myself, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude for his support.

"Where?" he asked as I knew immediately what he was asking.

"There, at the counter," I said, pointing in the direction.

He held me close, his strong arms guiding me gently towards the counter. I couldn't help but inhale the comforting scent of his cologne, which surrounded us both as we moved forward.

"Why are you getting yourself drunk, huh?" Ronan's voice cut through the haze of alcohol clouding my mind. His authoritative tone brought me back to reality, reminding me of his close bond with Nikolai, my older brother. They had been friends since childhood, and Ronan had always taken on a protective role with me, treating me like a younger sister.

As I stood there, Ronan's concern was palpable, his eyes searching mine with a mixture of worry and familiarity. For my part, I had always harbored a deeper admiration for him, seeing him not just as a friend or brother but something more undefined and unspoken.

"So, what brings you here?" I asked, striving to uphold a confident and engaging conversation, determined to show him that I was more than just the quiet, shy younger sister of his friend, Nikolai.

"I came here to take a breather," he said after a sharp intake of breath.

"Here with someone?" I asked casually but deep inside, I was dying to know if he's here with a partner.

"No, I had planned to come with someone initially, but something came up," he explained.

"Is that someone a woman?" I wanted to ask desperately, but I held back, knowing it might lead to unnecessary suspicions on my part.

The longer I sat at the counter with him, the more I noticed Ronan's striking handsomeness and mature demeanor.

I stood up steadily from my seat, trying to gather my thoughts and stay away from him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, looking concerned. I appreciated his care, but it was clear it stemmed from a brotherly concern, and nothing more.

"I'm heading to the dance floor," I replied, leaving him seated there.

I began swaying my hips to the beat, dancing to the music with newfound confidence. I knew it was probably due to the few cups of tequila I had consumed. All I wanted was for Ronan to notice me, but deep down, I couldn't quite explain my actions.

RONAN'S POV;

I watched mesmerized as Liora sensually swayed her hips to the rhythm of the song, her movements graceful and alluring. It was evident she had blossomed into a woman, radiating a newfound beauty that captivated my attention.

Her red gown accentuated her curves perfectly, and the way her hair was styled highlighted her beauty even more.

"Damn it, Ronan," I scolded myself under my breath, taking a sip from my glass. "She's your best friend's younger sister, and she's married," I chided myself, trying to push away any inappropriate thoughts.

I stood up decisively from my chair and made my way through the crowd to the dance floor where Liora was trying to free herself from a man's overly tight grip.

"She doesn't want to dance with you," I asserted, stepping between them and gently pushing the man away from her.

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do with my wife?" he demanded angrily. For the first time, I laid eyes on Liora's supposed husband.

At that moment, I realized he was right. I couldn't intervene in their dance, so I started to step back. But then I felt Liora's hands on my arm, gripping tightly as she pleaded with her eyes for me not to leave.

"Please, Ronan, protect me from him," she pleaded, her voice filled with desperation. Once again, my gaze shifted to her soft, pink lips, briefly mesmerized by their enticing allure.

"It's abundantly clear that your wife doesn't want to be with you right now, so I strongly suggest you back off," I said with growing frustration in my voice.

"You're my wife, and you shouldn't be holding onto other men like that," the guy asserted firmly.

"Well, I am not your wife, and we are getting a divorce, remember?" she retorted defiantly. Somewhere deep inside, a sense of relief washed over me.

"Pull yourself together, Ronan. Liora is like a younger sister to you, and you shouldn't find happiness in situations like this," I reminded myself sternly.

"Well, at least the divorce papers haven't been signed yet, so you're still my wife," the guy said, trying to snatch her away from me.

"Hey, hey. Don't do that, okay?" I said firmly, stopping him with my hand.

"It's obvious that she doesn't want to stay with you and that's final and if you force it then you will leave me with no choice but to break your nose" I threatened.

"Listen to me, I'm not signing those divorce papers. If I do, it's going to cost you everything," the guy asserted firmly before storming out.

"Oh, I'm starting to get a splitting headache," she said as she massaged her forehead.

"Come on, let's get you out of here," I said, supporting her as I led her out of the bar. Before we left, I settled her bills and retrieved her purse.

"Where do you live?" I asked gently, hoping to offer her a ride home.

"You know, I used to live with the devil, but not anymore. Now, I live with Patricia, my friend," she said, the effects of the tequila clearly showing.

"Where does your friend live now?" I asked, looking at her with concern.

"Maybe at the Bahamas estate, or maybe not," she chuckled with uncertainty, her expression showing confusion.

"You know what, let me take you to my place," I decided, lifting her gently into my arms and placing her in my car.