Chapter Two:

Liam:

The world thought I had it all.

Multi-million-dollar companies. A sprawling empire across three continents. A fleet of cars, an estate tucked away in the hills. And behind it all, a carefully constructed underworld, one that moved products with silent efficiency, feared me without knowing me, and left no room for softness.

But none of it mattered.

Because every night, when the world fell quiet, I still stared at the old phone I'd refused to replace.

Cracked screen. Dusty memory card. Battery barely holding a charge.

But it held her voice. Her smile. Our story.

And I couldn't let go.

Tonight was no different. I sat in my office, the one hidden beneath the surface of my flagship building, where men like me did things we could never confess.

The lights were dim, the city glowing like distant fire through the tall windows. And in my hand, that ancient phone rested, open to the last photo I had taken of her. Zara. In her motorbike jacket, smirking at me from across the cafeteria table. She had ketchup on her lip, and I had loved her more than I could ever say.

I brushed my thumb over the screen. "You should've been here," I whispered. "You would've hated all this power. But you would've kept me human."

A sharp knock sliced through the silence.

I straightened. "Come in."

The door opened, and Julian, my ever-efficient assistant, stepped in. His usual calmness was tinted with something different. Hesitation.

"There's someone here to see you," he said.

"I don't take unscheduled visits."

"I know, sir. But this one… she came through the back entrance. Says she's your new personal bodyguard. Cleared all our internal vetting."

I thought

I waved a hand. "Fine. Send her in."

Julian stepped aside.

The woman who walked in wore all black combat boots, tactical pants, a form-fitting jacket that screamed precision. But it was her face I couldn't see.

A sleek black nose mask covered her mouth and nose, and her hood was pulled low. But her eyes…

God. Her eyes.

Everything inside me froze.

I stood slowly, every nerve on edge. She didn't speak. Just stood there, still as stone, arms behind her back like a soldier.

"Remove the mask," I said, the words low. Commanding.

She didn't.

Instead, she met my gaze, unflinching ,and in those eyes, a storm brewed. Green, with tiny flecks of gold that caught the office lights just right. My heart slammed against my ribs.

Zara.

No, it couldn't be. She was dead. I'd buried her. I'd watched the casket go into the ground. I'd mourned her every day since. But these eyes…

I stepped forward, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "Who are you?"

Still, she said nothing.

I was close enough now to see the way her breath hitched ,just slightly, when I stopped before her. Her eyes flicked to my left wrist… the bracelet. Our bracelet. I still wore it. Always.

"You remind me of someone," I whispered.

Her chin lifted slightly, as if challenging me.

My chest felt like it was splitting open. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

Silence.

I reached for the mask.

She stepped back,only once ,then stood her ground again.

"I'm not in the mood for games," I said, voice cracking now. "You either speak, or you take off the damn mask."

No response.

But her eyes , they softened for a breath. Just a second. Just enough to spark the smallest ember of impossible hope.

A hope I hadn't allowed myself in years.

A hope that whispered …..What if?

"I'm not in the mood for games," I said, my voice cracking as the air tightened around us. "You either speak, or you take off the damn mask."

Still….nothing. Just those eyes. Unshaken. Familiar.

My fingers twitched toward the edge of the mask, driven by something I couldn't name. Need. Desperation. Ghosts.

But before I could touch her…..

Julian cleared his throat from the doorway. "Sir."

I didn't take my eyes off her. "Not now."

"I think you'll want to hear this," he said carefully. "Your father had a condition written into the protection contract."

That pulled me up short.

I turned slowly. "What kind of condition?"

Julian stepped fully into the room, a sleek tablet in his hand. "Clause twelve, subsection C: 'Under no circumstance shall the client attempt to remove Agent Vale's mask. Should such an attempt be made, the agent has the right to terminate the assignment immediately.'"

I blinked. "He signed off on that?"

Julian nodded. "Personally."

I glanced back at her. Agent Vale, apparently. She hadn't moved. Her posture was rigid, but I could see the faint flicker of something in her gaze….relief, maybe. Or challenge. Or both.

I stepped back. Slowly. Hands at my sides.

"You've got some serious pull to get my father to agree to that," I muttered. "He doesn't trust anyone. And he never bends."

Still no reply.

But something told me this silence wasn't arrogance. It was armor.

I studied her. The way she held herself. The way she hadn't flinched when I raised my voice, when I stepped into her space. She'd been trained well. Maybe even broken first, like most people who survived in my father's world.

But those eyes…

They weren't trained. They weren't blank.

They were watching me.

I turned to Julian. "Leave us."

He hesitated. "Sir….."

"She won't kill me." I looked back at her. "If she wanted to, I'd already be dead."

Julian gave her a wary glance, then disappeared through the door. The latch clicked softly behind him.

Now it was just us.

I crossed my arms. "So this is how it's going to be? You just watch me. Guard me. Obey my father's commands?"

Silence.

I laughed bitterly. "Of course. Why not. Another ghost to haunt my hallway." My eyes flicked over her one more time. "You can tell him I don't need a bodyguard. But something tells me you don't take orders from him either."

She didn't answer. But this time, her head tilted…just barely.

You have no idea who I am, that tilt seemed to say.

But I was starting to suspect I did. Or maybe I just wanted to. Badly enough that it made my hands shake.

I looked away.

"Fine," I said quietly. "Keep your damn mask."

I turned my back to her. "But don't expect me to ignore those eyes."