Chapter 6

The dim glow of the penthouse barely softened the shadows that clung to Liam as he stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The city stretched endlessly before him, a sea of lights that should have distracted him, but his mind was a thousand miles away—locked on her. Bianca.

His fingers tightened around the glass as he exhaled slowly. He had seen the news. Her engagement. To Kayden Russo.

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped his lips.

Naomi had made sure he saw it.

She had sent the article directly to him, accompanied by a single message: You're really going to let her go that easily?

Liam had stared at the screen for a long time, his jaw clenched so tight it ached.

He could still see Bianca's face in the engagement photos—her radiant smile, the way Kayden's hand rested possessively on her waist. It made his blood simmer beneath his skin.

She was his.

She had always been his.

Memories surged, sudden and relentless, dragging him back to a time when she was still his world.

The campus was quiet that evening, the air crisp with the scent of rain. Bianca stood in front of him, her hands trembling, eyes filled with unshed tears. His heart pounded as she whispered the words that would change everything.

"I'm pregnant, Liam."

The world tilted on its axis. He had imagined a future with her, but not like this—not so soon. Still, the fear in her eyes shattered him. He stepped forward, cupping her face, forcing her to look at him.

"We'll figure this out," he had sworn. "Together."

But 'together' had never included her father. The moment Pastor Richard learned of the pregnancy, the weight of his reputation came crashing down on Bianca like a landslide. She begged him not to tell anyone. Cried in his arms about the shame, the whispers, the disgrace it would bring to her family.

In the end, there had been only one solution.

 His parents had agreed to take the baby, to raise him far away from prying eyes while Bianca continued her life as though nothing had happened.

She had kissed their son goodbye with tears slipping down her cheeks, promising to visit, promising that one day…

But she never did.

Liam's grip on the glass turned white-knuckled as he dragged himself out of the memory.

That had been the first time she had broken him.

And now, she was doing it again.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. He moved across the room, his movements slow, controlled, but beneath the surface, his pulse raged. He pulled open a drawer, retrieving the worn photograph he kept hidden beneath his documents.

His son.

The boy was older now—six years old, with dark curls and his mother's warm brown eyes. The resemblance was undeniable, and it made something deep inside Liam twist painfully.

His son was growing up without them.

Because of her.

Because of the fear that had ruled her life.

And now she was marrying another man?

He wondered if the boy ever asked about his mother. If he looked at the other kids at school and sensed something missing. The guilt was Bianca's to carry—but it weighed on him too, every damn day.

His phone vibrated against the marble countertop. He reached for it without looking, bringing it to his ear.

"I heard the news," a voice on the other end murmured.

Liam's lips curled into a smirk. Naomi.

"Of course you did," he said, swirling the whiskey in his glass.

"You're not really going to let her marry him, are you?"

His smirk faded. His grip on the phone tightened.

"What do you suggest?"

"I suggest you remind her who she belongs to," Naomi said, her voice dripping with something unreadable.

Liam exhaled slowly, his mind already working. He had been willing to let Bianca go once. But twice?

Never.

His gaze drifted back to the photograph. His son deserved a mother. And Bianca?

She deserved to remember exactly who she had left behind.

And this time, he wouldn't let her forget.

He had rehearsed a hundred conversations with her in his head—some tender, some cruel. But the outcome was always the same: she came back to him. Because she had no idea what it meant to live without him. Not really.

Liam rolled the glass between his fingers, the ice clinking softly against the sides. His mind was spinning, not with doubt—but with purpose.

He had let Bianca go once. Had stood by while she buried the past and pretended their son didn't exist. He had watched, from a distance, as she crafted a life that didn't include him.

His jaw tensed..

His lips curled, dark amusement flickering in his chest.

Did Kayden Russo even know who he was marrying?

The thought ignited something dangerous in him.

She might have hidden their child from the world, but she couldn't hide from him.

A part of him had almost admired how well she had played her role. The perfect daughter. The obedient woman. Always doing what was expected of her, never daring to stray from the path laid out before her.

But she had strayed once—with him. And she would again.

Because Bianca had never belonged in that world. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't erase who she was with him. What she was with him.

His free hand drifted back to the photograph on the counter. His son.

Liam exhaled through his nose, steadying the storm brewing inside him.

Six years. Six years of silence. Six years of waiting.

Bianca thought she had erased him from her life.

She was about to learn how wrong she was.

He tossed back the rest of the whiskey in one sharp motion, then set the glass down with a soft clink. The burn did nothing to settle him. If anything, it only fueled the fire licking at the edges of his mind.

She was in New York.

He should be on a flight already.

The thought struck hard and fast, and before he could second-guess it, he was moving. His fingers tapped against his phone screen, pulling up his agent's contact.

The line barely rang before a voice answered.

"Liam?"

"Book me the next available flight to New York."

A pause.

"Tonight?"

Liam's grip tightened around the phone. His voice was low, firm.

"I don't care how much it costs. Just get me there."

The silence stretched for a beat. Then, "Understood. I'll send you the details."

Liam ended the call.

His reflection in the window stared back at him, sharp and unreadable. His eyes, dark and stormy, held a promise.

Bianca thought she had moved on.

She thought he was a mistake, a memory she could lock away and forget.

She thought she had a choice.

A slow, cold smirk pulled at his lips.

By the time he was done, she wouldn't just remember him.

She'd know there was never a choice at all.

Liam scrolled through his phone, his jaw clenched as he scanned the list of available flights his agent sent to him. Most were fully booked or had inconvenient layovers, but his patience had already worn thin. He needed to be in New York now.

A knock on his penthouse door pulled his attention. Preston, his right-hand man, stepped inside, his expression unreadable.

"You're sure about this?" Preston asked, arms crossed.

Liam didn't hesitate. "Book the jet". I don't care how much it costs."

Nathan sighed, slipping his phone out. Within minutes, the confirmation buzzed on Liam's screen. "Flight leaves in three hours."

Liam downed the rest of his whiskey and grabbed his coat.

By the time he landed in New York, dawn was breaking over the city. The familiar skyline barely registered as he exited the airport, slipping into a sleek black SUV that waited for him at the curb.

He gave the driver the name of a luxury hotel—one far enough from Bianca's usual places, but close enough to keep an eye on everything. The suite was lavish, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city, but Liam barely noticed.

He hadn't come here for comfort.

He had come for her.

And he wasn't leaving without her.

Naomi adjusted the strap of her designer dress, stealing a glance at Bianca across the bridal suite.

The room was filled with expensive floral arrangements, luxury gowns, and champagne on ice. Everything about Bianca's wedding screamed status.

Naomi had smiled, laughed, pretended to be the supportive best friend—but inside, jealousy coiled tight in her chest.

That should have been her life.

She had spent years by Bianca's side, watching her move through the world with an effortless grace that drew people in. Now, she was marrying a billionaire, stepping into a life Naomi had only dreamed of.

And the worst part? Bianca didn't even want it.

Naomi clenched her fists, masking her bitterness behind another practiced smile.

If she won't appreciate it, someone else will.

She adjusted the delicate diamond bracelet on her wrist—one Liam had once complimented when Bianca wasn't around. Her lips parted slightly at the memory. Maybe this time, he'd notice her instead.

Liam sat in his darkened hotel room, one hand wrapped around a tumbler of whiskey, the other resting on his phone screen. His sources had been sending him updates all day. The wedding preparations were in full swing.

Then, something caught his eye.

Naomi.

He leaned forward, watching a video clip taken earlier that day. In it, Naomi was speaking to someone off-camera, her face twisted in something that looked too much like resentment.

His lips curled. She's jealous.

It didn't take much to recognize the hunger in her eyes—the same hunger he had seen in people desperate to climb the social ladder.

So Bianca's best friend wasn't so loyal after all.

That worked in his favor.

A slow smirk tugged at Liam's lips as he set his drink down.

It was time.

He reached for his phone, dialing a familiar number.

"I need a suit. And a car waiting outside my hotel by tomorrow morning."

Liam ended the call before the concierge could respond, his mind already spinning ahead to the next move.

His fingers hovered over his phone for a second before dialing another number.

Naomi picked up on the second ring.

"Liam?" There was confusion in her voice, followed almost instantly by intrigue.

He smirked, stretching his legs out on the hotel bed. Perfect reaction.

"I'm in New York."

A sharp inhale. Then silence.

He could almost see the way her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile.

"You came after all."

Liam's gaze flicked to the garment bag in the corner of the room. "I need you to do something for me."

"Anything," Naomi responded too quickly.

"Get me into that wedding."

She let out a soft laugh, the kind laced with mischief. "As a guest?"

"Under a different name," Liam confirmed. "Make sure Bianca sees me."

A pause. Then, almost sweetly—"Consider it done."

She had no idea what kind of fire she was about to pour herself into. But Liam didn't care. Let it burn. When he looked into Bianca's eyes again, he wouldn't be asking for answers.

He'd be delivering consequences.

Liam leaned back, gripping his phone tighter. He could hear the devious smile in Naomi's voice, and could already imagine the chaos that tomorrow would bring.

It was the perfect game.

And Bianca?

She wouldn't even see it coming.