He wanted the room cleared. He wanted Vale gone. He wanted five minutes alone with her, without contracts, without witnesses, without her armor of professionalism. Five minutes to demand why she could still shake him with nothing but a glance.
But she didn't give him that chance.
The moment Vale declared the meeting adjourned, Mia gathered her files swiftly, her hands steady, her eyes resolutely not looking at Liam. She thanked Vale, nodded politely, and swept out of the boardroom in heels that clicked against the marble like a declaration of war.
Her heart was hammering, but she never slowed her pace. Not once. She could feel Liam's gaze burning between her shoulder blades as she left, but she didn't turn back. Not when every nerve in her body screamed to.
Because she knew if she met his eyes again—just once more—she'd forget herself.
And she couldn't afford that. Not this time.
Liam didn't move when the door shut behind her.
Didn't move when Vale chuckled under his breath and muttered, "She handles you better than most men handle entire boards."
Liam only clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around his pen until it nearly snapped.
Because Richard was right.
And it infuriated him.
And it thrilled him.
Mia Villaruiz could keep running, keep hiding behind professionalism and sharp words. But Liam knew—sooner or later—he'd have her alone again.
And when that happened, not even her fire would save her from him. The boardroom doors closed behind her, and the cool blast of the hallway air hit like freedom. She inhaled sharply, clutching the files tighter than necessary.
Don't look back. Not at the man who could still unravel her with one stare.
Her heels clicked a steady rhythm against the polished marble, her spine tall, her shoulders squared. She had won that round. She had.
"Impressive."
Mia stopped short. Richard Vale had followed her out, his expression unreadable, but his eyes carried a glimmer of amusement she didn't trust.
"Sir?" she asked carefully.
"You handled Alcaraz better than most men twice your age and ten times your arrogance." His lips quirked. "Cool, professional, poised. Exactly the way I'd expect from my golden counsel."
Relief bloomed, but it soured when his gaze sharpened just slightly. "Though..." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "He wasn't listening to a word in those contracts, was he?"
Mia's breath caught. "I—I beg your pardon?"
Richard's smirk deepened, eyes gleaming with quiet mischief. "Don't play coy, Mia. Alcaraz's eyes were on you the entire time. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were the only document he wanted to read."
Heat flared in her cheeks, and she hated herself for it. "Sir, with respect—"
He held up a hand. "Relax. I'm not questioning your professionalism. Quite the opposite." His gaze softened, though his tone stayed sharp. "But remember this: when a man like Liam Alcaraz looks at a woman the way he looked at you, the whole room notices. And some—" he cast a glance back toward the boardroom doors "—might find that far more interesting than the contracts we just signed."
Mia's throat went dry. Her pulse pounded as she straightened, summoning every ounce of steel she had left. "You can rest assured, Mr. Vale, that I am more than capable of handling both Liam Alcaraz and the work he demands. If he was... distracted, that's his problem. Not mine."
Richard chuckled softly. "Good answer, Counselor." He patted her arm, the teasing glint still in his eyes. "Just don't let him rattle you too much."
And with that, he strolled away.
Mia exhaled shakily, gripping her files tighter. Too late, she thought bitterly. He already has.
He hadn't left.
He stood by the window, fists tight at his sides, jaw locked hard enough to ache. Through the glass, he could see Richard Vale's easy grin as he leaned toward Mia in the hall. See the way her cheeks flushed, the way she looked rattled even though she tried to hide it.
And Liam hated every second of it.
Vale had no business teasing her like that. No business making her fluster. That was his right. His privilege. His curse.
When the door clicked open again, Vale stepped back inside, still smirking faintly. "Your counsel is sharper than I gave her credit for. You'll do well with her."
Liam said nothing. His knuckles were white against the polished edge of the table.
Richard chuckled, unbothered. "She doesn't bend easily, does she? Good for her. Better for you."
Liam finally turned, his eyes cold steel. "This meeting is over."
Vale's smile lingered. "As you wish."
And when the man left, Liam's control snapped.
Mia didn't make it to the elevator.
A hand closed around her wrist, firm but not rough, pulling her into the shadow of a recessed alcove. The files tumbled from her arms in a scatter of papers, but before she could protest, she was pinned—his tall frame blocking her escape, his eyes burning down into hers.
"Liam—"
"You let him tease you," Liam cut in, voice low and dangerous. "You let Vale stand there, smirking, while you flushed like a schoolgirl. Do you enjoy that? Letting another man see what's mine?"
Mia's breath hitched. Fury and something sharper tangled in her chest. "Yours?" she hissed. "Don't you dare. You lost that right years ago."
His jaw flexed, his gaze dropping—just for a heartbeat—to her lips. "And yet," he whispered, closer now, so close she could feel his breath, "every word you spit at me, every time you defy me... all it does is make me want you more."
Her pulse thundered. She should have pushed him away. She should.
But she didn't.
Not when his eyes softened for just a flicker, not when she saw the truth warring behind his anger—hunger, need, regret.
She forced her voice steady, sharp as glass. "You may want, Mr. Alcaraz. But you'll never have me again."
Liam's hand tightened on hers, his mouth curving into a dangerous half-smile that promised anything but surrender. "We'll see."
And then he released her, stepping back as swiftly as he'd trapped her.
Her chest rose and fell too quickly, fury mixing with the ache she couldn't kill. She bent to gather her papers, forcing her hands steady even though they trembled. When she straightened, Liam was already gone, his scent, his presence, his promise lingering like smoke.
The moment Mia parked her car, she stepped out and walked toward her building like a ghost—her heels striking the pavement, her chest hollow, her thoughts anything but.
She hated herself for it.
For not being able to shut him out. For replaying his words over and over like some cursed refrain.
"When I want you, Mia... I will."
It wasn't a threat. It was a promise. And God help her, it made her chest thrill and her stomach twist with butterflies she thought had long since died. Her lips trembled as she whispered to herself, harsh and desperate:
"You can't, Mia. Get a grip!"
Her voice cracked against the night air, but it wasn't enough to silence the pounding in her chest—or the memory of the day Liam shattered her.
It had been raining that night. Not the gentle kind of rain, but a storm that lashed against the earth as though it wanted to drown everything in its path. After Josh had insisted she eat, after pretending she was fine, Mia had walked out of their rented apartment and let her feet carry her with no destination. The sky broke open, and for the first time in her life, she hadn't fought her pain.
She had let it claim her.
The rain had plastered her hair to her face, mingling with the tears she refused to hide. And she had cried—wild, broken, guttural—until her body gave out.
The next day, fever burned her alive, and it was Josh who sat at her side, wiping her forehead, coaxing her to drink medicine, forcing her to eat even when she wanted nothing more than to disappear. That day, she had wanted to give up on everything. But Josh hadn't let her.
And Liam... Liam's words had haunted her like poison in her veins.
"You were just a piece, Mia. A pawn on the board. That's all."
That cruel verdict had buried itself into her bones, playing on repeat like a playlist she couldn't turn off. He had no idea what kind of darkness she'd drowned in just to crawl out again. No idea how much it had cost her to piece her soul back together.
And then, as if fate wasn't finished testing her, Josh's parents had died. She had begged him not to leave her behind, begged him to take her with him when he had no choice but to return to his family's company. He had promised he'd take care of everything—and he did. He paid her tuition, offered her a home, a family when she had none left.
Josh was more than a friend. He was her brother, her sister, her anchor when she had none. And when Daniel later joined them, their trio became unshakable. They had been her strength. Her refuge. And yes, she had considered Daniel—his gentle smiles, his safe affection—but she knew she could never love him beyond friendship. Not when Liam's ghost still lived inside her.
Her heart had belonged once. To one man. To the boy who had been her first kiss, her first love, her first everything. To the man who had crushed her.
Mia squeezed her eyes shut, dragging herself back to the present with a sharp breath. The city lights blurred around her as she swore under her breath:
"Never again."
She would never give Liam Alcaraz the chance to break her a second time.
And yet, as she walked inside, her hand trembling around her keys, she couldn't silence the treacherous truth pulsing in her chest.
That she still felt him.
That part of her still burned for him.
That her greatest enemy... was her own heart.