The doors to Liam's office swung open, and Mia stepped out with her folder tucked neatly under her arm, her expression calm and unreadable. If anything, she looked sharper—like a woman who had just walked through fire and refused to let the flames touch her.
Anabel rose from her desk out of instinct. "Attorney Villaruiz, do you need me to arrange a car?"
"No, thank you." Mia's voice was polite, clipped, her heels already carrying her toward the elevators. "I have my own."
Anabel watched her go, the echo of her steps fading into silence. For a long moment, she just sat there, staring at the empty corridor, her curiosity gnawing at her.
Finally, she rose and pushed the office door open just enough to peek inside.
Liam was still at his desk.
But he wasn't the Liam she was used to.
The man she knew—sharp, commanding, always in control—was nowhere to be found. Instead, he sat with his elbows braced on the desk, his hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles had gone white. His gaze was fixed on the skyline, but his reflection in the glass gave him away.
He looked... shaken.
Anabel's stomach dropped. In all her years working by his side, she had never seen him like this. Not when billion-dollar deals fell through. Not when competitors tried to sabotage him. Not even during scandals that threatened to rattle the empire he'd built. Liam Alcaraz didn't falter. He didn't bend.
And yet here he was, silent and restless, like a man fighting a battle no one else could see.
Anabel stepped into the room, her voice cautious. "Sir... is everything all right?"
His head snapped toward her, his mask of composure sliding back into place almost instantly. "Clear my afternoon."
"Sir, you have a call with the Singapore investors at three—"
"I said clear it." His tone was low, clipped, brooking no argument.
Anabel stiffened, then nodded. "Yes, Mr. Alcaraz."
She turned to leave, but her hand lingered on the doorknob. Something about the tension in the room tugged at her. Liam might be her boss, but after years at his side, she was also the closest thing he had to a sister. And she knew when something had rattled him down to the bone.
So she turned back, raising a brow. "Impression of Attorney Villaruiz, sir?"
His jaw flexed, his silence louder than any admission.
Anabel smirked, arms crossing. "Aside from being beautiful and hot, obviously."
Liam shot her a sharp look—one that would have frozen any other employee in terror. But she only arched her brow higher, daring him.
He exhaled slowly, looking back at the skyline. "She's... different."
Anabel tilted her head, studying him. His voice had dropped lower, softer, carrying something she'd never heard from him before. Something that sounded dangerously close to vulnerability.
Her smirk softened into the faintest smile. "Different's not always a bad thing, you know."
Liam's eyes flicked back to hers, dark and unreadable, and for once, he didn't bother denying it.
When she slipped out of the office, Anabel shook her head, still half-stunned. For the first time, she realized her boss—the untouchable Liam Alcaraz—might finally have met his match.
And her name was Mia Villaruiz.
Mia kept her stride steady as the elevator doors closed behind her, the weight of Liam's gaze still clinging to her like static. She didn't let her expression falter—not when Anabel's sharp eyes lingered on her, not when she passed employees who glanced up in curiosity.
Head high. Shoulders back. Professional.
It wasn't until she reached the basement garage and slid into the driver's seat of her car that the mask cracked.
The door shut with a soft thud, and silence swallowed her whole. Her hands stayed on the wheel for a long moment, fingers trembling against the leather.
"God," she whispered, dragging in a shaky breath.
She had done it—sat across from Liam Alcaraz without flinching, delivered her points with calm precision, and walked out with every inch of her pride intact. But inside? Inside she was chaos.
Her chest still ached from the way his voice had dipped when he said her name. The way his eyes followed her, sharp and unyielding, like he was trying to strip every layer she had built over the last eight years.
Focus, Mia.
She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headrest, exhaling slowly. This was exactly what she had promised Josh she wouldn't allow—Liam getting under her skin. And yet here she was, pulse hammering, every nerve alive with the ghost of his presence.
Her mind replayed the moment he had invited her to lunch, his voice smooth, calculated. She should have expected it—Liam never stopped at business when he wanted more. And her answer—her firm, cold refusal—had been the only thing that kept her in control.
I don't dine with clients or bosses. I only dine with real friends.
The look on his face. That tightness in his jaw. The way his fists had curled under the desk as if she had struck him.
For one fleeting second, satisfaction surged through her. She had cut him off at the knees. She had reminded him that he wasn't her world anymore, that he didn't get to cross the lines she had drawn.
And yet...
Her hand pressed to her chest, as if that would quiet the thundering beneath. Why, after everything, did he still have the power to make her feel like she couldn't breathe?
She groaned, dropping her head against the steering wheel. "Get it together, Villaruiz. He's not going to win this time."
Her phone buzzed on the passenger seat. She reached for it, half-expecting it to be Vale with more instructions, but it was Josh. A text.
"Well? How bad was it?"
A shaky laugh escaped her throat. She typed back quickly, fingers steadier on the keys than her heart was in her chest.
"Let's just say... your best friend deserves a medal for not strangling someone in a three-piece suit."
She hit send and tossed the phone back onto the seat, the corners of her lips tugging despite herself.
For a moment, the tension loosened. The world outside was still spinning, the city's hum faint through the concrete walls, but here in her car, Mia let herself breathe.
She had faced Liam once. She would face him again.
And this time, she would make damn sure he didn't get past her defenses.
By the time Mia got home, she felt wrung out. She dropped her bag by the door, kicked off her heels, and headed straight for the couch. The silence of her condo wrapped around her, but instead of soothing her, it only made the storm in her chest louder.
The doorbell rang.
Of course. Josh never texted I'm outside. He just showed up.
Mia dragged herself up and opened the door to find him leaning casually against the frame, a takeout bag dangling from one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
"I come bearing survival rations," he announced.
Mia's lips curved despite the heaviness in her chest. "You really are the best friend I don't deserve."
"You're damn right," he said, sweeping inside without waiting for permission. "Now, tell me how awful it was before I pour this entire bottle down my throat in sympathy."
They settled on the couch, cartons of food spread across the coffee table. Josh poured two glasses of wine and slid one to her. "Okay. Start from the top. How bad was it?"
Mia let out a long breath. "He invited me to lunch."
Josh nearly choked on his sip. "That arrogant—" He cut himself off, eyes narrowing. "You said no, right?"
"I told him I only dine with real friends."
Josh burst out laughing, loud and sharp. "Oh, Mia, you didn't—"
"I did," she said firmly, but a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips.
Josh leaned back, whistling low. "You might've just bruised the great Liam Alcaraz's ego. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost."
Before Mia could respond, another knock came at the door. She frowned. "Did you order more food?"
Josh shook his head. "Nope. Unless I telepathically summoned dessert."
Mia got up reluctantly, her stomach tightening when she opened the door.
Daniel.
He stood there in his usual easy stance, hands in his pockets, that quiet steadiness about him that always made her heart ache with guilt. "Hey," he said softly. "I was in the area. Thought I'd check in."
Mia froze. For a second, she considered lying, brushing him off, hiding everything the way she always had. But Josh appeared behind her, eyebrow raised as if daring her to keep pretending.
She sighed and stepped aside. "Come in."
Daniel's gaze flicked between her and Josh as he entered, taking in the wine glasses and the cartons on the table. His smile was faint but polite. "I didn't mean to intrude."
"You're not intruding," Josh said quickly, though his tone carried the protective edge that always appeared when Daniel was around. "We were just talking about work."
Mia sank back onto the couch, the weight of both men's eyes pressing down on her. Her chest tightened. She couldn't keep it in anymore.
"It was him," she whispered.
Daniel's brows furrowed. "Him?"
"Liam," she said, the name heavy in the air. "The big client Vale assigned me. It's Liam's company. He's the CEO."
For a long moment, silence filled the room.
Daniel's jaw tightened, his eyes darkening as he sat down across from her. "Mia..." His voice was low, careful. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Because I didn't want to see that look on your face," she admitted, her throat tight. "Like you're about to go punch him. Like I'm still that girl who broke when he left."
Josh reached over, squeezing her hand. "You're not that girl anymore."
Mia's eyes shimmered, but her chin lifted. "No. I'm not. And that's why I'm not running. Vale offered me partnership if I take the account. And I'm going to take it. Not for Liam—for me. But this time..." her voice hardened, "I'll guard my heart. He won't fool me again."
Daniel leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his gaze locked on hers. "Then let me be clear, Mia. If he tries—if he so much as thinks about hurting you again—you won't have to fight him alone. You've got me. Always."
Josh nodded, his voice dry but firm. "You've got me too. And unlike Daniel, I fight dirty."
Mia let out a shaky laugh, tears stinging her eyes. "God, what did I ever do to deserve the two of you?"
"Terrible taste in men," Josh said without missing a beat.
Daniel smirked faintly, but his eyes stayed on her, steady and unflinching.
And in that small living room, with cartons of food and wine between them, Mia realized that no matter what Liam tried, she wasn't standing alone this time.
She had her friends. She had her armor.
And this time—Liam Alcaraz was going to discover just how dangerous a woman could be when she refused to break.