Liam's chest rose hard and fast, his pulse a violent drum against his ribs. Her words cut through him like both a wound and a caress, stripping him bare, daring him to surrender when he was built to dominate.
Mia's lips curved with slow defiance. Inside, her thoughts were a storm, reckless and daring. Fine, Liam Alcaraz. You want to play? Then I'll play. Just once. I'll make you taste exactly what you threw away. And I'll remind you of the fire you'll never control.
Her glass clinked softly on the counter as she set it down. When she lifted her chin, her eyes glittered with a wicked challenge. "I can play your game," she whispered again, this time not as a tease but as a vow.
And then she closed the distance.
Their mouths collided with brutal inevitability. Liam's restraint shattered in an instant—his hand cupping her jaw, tilting her head as he claimed her lips with a ferocity that made her knees weaken. He kissed her like a man starved, like years of denial and regret had all broken loose in one desperate, consuming rush.
Mia kissed him back with the same hunger. The same ferocity. Her fingers fisted in his hair, yanking him closer, her moan spilling into his mouth as though the sound had been caged inside her for years. The taste of him—wine, smoke, pure Liam—ignited something deep in her chest she'd sworn she buried.
Liam grunted, low and guttural, as he pressed harder, angling the kiss deeper, his tongue sweeping against hers with a raw hunger that bordered on violence. His body caged hers against the counter, every line of him hard, unrelenting, his chest rising fast against her trembling frame. The sound of their ragged breaths, the desperate clash of lips, filled the kitchen like a storm breaking.
Her flimsy gown brushed against his bare skin, and he swore under his breath, the heat of her body undoing him in ways no boardroom, no empire, no war ever could.
Their mouths clashed, the kiss exploding with years of anger and longing. Mia moaned against him, her fingers clutching his hair, while Liam deepened the kiss with a guttural sound that shook through his chest. His body pressed hard against hers, heat and strength caging her in, every move saying what words never could—I want you. I've always wanted you.
But then—Mia pulled back.
Her lips were swollen, her breath unsteady, her pulse racing, but her eyes glittered with triumph. She dragged her thumb across her lower lip slowly, deliberately, like she was savoring the taste. Her smile was dangerous, intoxicating.
"That's enough, Alcaraz," she whispered, her voice husky but sharp with control. "You don't get to have more than that." She leaned close, her breath fanning his ear, her words silk wrapped in fire. "Not tonight. Maybe next time... if I feel like playing again. Maybe more than just a kiss."
Liam's jaw tightened, his chest heaving, every muscle straining with restraint. He wanted to grab her, pin her, claim her until there was no space left between them. Instead, he grunted—a raw, frustrated sound—as his fist clenched against the counter so hard he nearly put it through the wood.
Mia stepped back, chin high, her flimsy gown slipping over her curves like armor made of temptation. She smiled, wicked and victorious, before turning toward the hallway.
"Goodnight, Liam."
Her voice was velvet, mocking, final. Liam wanted more. God, he wanted all of her. And he didn't care if she thought it was just a game.
Because for Liam Alcaraz, this was no game.
It was war.
And he swore he'd win.
"Maybe next time," she whispered, her lips curving like sin, "I'll even let you think you're winning."
Then she turned. Slowly. Purposefully. Each sway of her hips a dagger, the gown skimming over her curves like a lover's touch, branding him with the sight of what he couldn't yet have.
His breath broke. His erection strained painfully, hard and throbbing, his body begging him to take, to claim, to ruin. Every nerve screamed at him to go after her, to slam her against the wall, to kiss her until she forgot how to hate him.
Instead, he stood there, chest heaving, jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Rage. Need. Hunger. All of it coiled in his gut until he thought he might snap in half.
And when her door clicked softly shut, it was like a taunt. A promise. A punishment.
She wasn't just the outcast he once loved and still love. She was the forbidden body, the intoxicating fire—the one woman who could ruin him all over again.
And God help him... he wanted to burn.
Liam closed his eyes and dragged in a breath so heavy it burned his chest before he let it out in a rough sigh. For the first time in year he felt defeated.
Not in a fight with competitors or investors. But here, in the silence of his own lake house, by a woman who could unmake him with nothing more than a look.
Mia.
He hated himself for it—for letting her see cracks in the armor he'd built stone by stone—but God, he couldn't stop. He told himself he could live with her hatred, but the truth was sharper: it gutted him. Every glare, every clipped word, every trembling refusal was a dagger he couldn't block.
And yet, no matter how much she claimed to hate him, he had never stopped loving her. Not once. Not through all the years apart, not through all the women who tried and failed to distract him. He'd told himself he had buried her, buried them—but the moment she stepped into his boardroom again, fire in her eyes, armor forged from the scars he'd given her... he knew.
Fate wasn't finished with them. Fate had dragged her back into his orbit, whether she wanted it or not.
He pushed off the counter, restless energy tearing through him, and stalked toward the veranda. The sliding doors whispered open, and the cool night air rushed against his overheated skin. The lake stretched out before him, silver and endless under the moonlight. Peaceful. Untouched. Mocking.
Because inside, he was anything but peaceful.
He remembered the promise he'd made to himself long ago—one he'd kept through every storm his father had thrown at him, through every temptation.
He had sworn never to marry if it wasn't Mia.
And now... here she was again. Not the girl he had kissed under stolen stars, but a woman who no longer trembled when he touched her, a woman who glared at him like he was nothing more than a scar she wished she could erase.
He didn't know what to do with that. Didn't know how to fight her walls when he was the reason she'd built them so high.
The moonlight rippled across the lake like it was holding secrets, like it knew the truth he couldn't say aloud. That he still loved her with a ferocity that scared him. That he would fight for her, even if she hated him for it.
"My God, Mia," he muttered under his breath, his voice breaking into the night air. His throat tightened as he closed his eyes again, the image of her lips still raw on his memory. "What the hell am I supposed to do with you?"
Liam hadn't realized he had dozed off on the veranda lounger, the night's storm of emotions pulling him under until dawn brushed the sky in strokes of gold and rose. The lake shimmered like liquid glass, mist rising from its surface as birds called from the trees. The world felt softer here—quieter, forgiving.
Liam rubbed a hand over his face and stood, car keys dangling loosely from his fingers. For once, he wanted to make something right. For once, he wanted to start the day with intention instead of regret.
But then he froze.
Mia.
She was standing on the front porch, the pale glow of morning draping her in soft light. Her hair spilled loosely down her shoulders, catching the sun like spun silk.
She wore a simple summer dress, light fabric skimming her frame, brushing just above her knees. The breeze teased the hem, revealing flashes of her smooth legs, and for a moment, Liam forgot how to breathe.
Her voice cut the quiet, sharper than her expression.
"Are you going to leave me now?"
Her eyes flicked to the keys in his hand, suspicion laced with something softer, something she didn't want him to see.
Liam chuckled, low and rough from sleep, but the honesty in it betrayed him. "That's the last thing I'll do, sweetheart."
Her face flushed, and she shot back instantly, "Stop sweethearting me, Mr. Alcaraz."
To her dismay, it only widened his grin—genuine this time. The harsh edges of his face softened, dimples cutting through the mask of control he wore so well. He looked boyish for a fleeting second—unguarded, heartbreakingly human. And it rattled her more than any smirk could.
Her breath caught before she turned away.
"You can come with me if you want," Liam said, his voice lower now, steady with seriousness that made her chest tighten.
Mia hesitated, her fingers brushing the edge of her skirt as if grounding herself. Against her better judgment, she nodded.
Inside the car, silence filled the space, broken only by the purr of the engine and the hum of tires against asphalt. The morning stretched before them, wildflowers painting the roadside in bursts of yellow and violet, sunlight spilling like molten gold across the rolling hills. The lake shimmered alongside them, a mirror of the sky.
Mia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her dress sliding against her thigh, bare legs catching Liam's eye before he forced himself to focus on the road. Her heart softened despite itself, pulled by the beauty of it all.
"Where are we going again?" she asked, voice quieter than she intended.
"To the market," he replied simply, his gaze flicking toward her before returning to the road.
She smiled without meaning to.
His brow arched. "Why are you smiling?"
"I just can't believe someone like you would be interested in going to the market," she admitted, turning her face to the window. But the smile stayed, lingering as her eyes traced the sunlit trees and sparkling water.
"Can I ask a favor?" Liam's voice broke through again, softer now, almost hesitant.
Her heart jumped. She turned, wary. "What kind of favor? If you're asking for money, I don't have much," she teased, her voice lighter than she expected.
Liam chuckled, and the sound coiled through her chest like something dangerous.
"Not money." His eyes flicked briefly to her before settling back on the road. "Today, I just want to be Liam. And you'll be Mia. No Mr. Alcaraz. No Atty. Villaruiz. No titles. No past. Just us."
He drew a breath, his tone dipped in tenderness she hadn't heard in years. "For once, I want to savor the day like we're eighteen again. Let's just... live in the moment, Mia."
Her chest ached, warm and traitorous. Against every wall she'd built, she whispered, "Sure."
When he reached forward and switched on the stereo, Mia stiffened—then froze altogether.
The song.
Her breath caught as familiar chords filled the car. Their song. One they had once played under the stars, laughing like forever was real.
Her eyes burned as she shut them, forcing herself to breathe, to follow his words. Just Liam. Just Mia. Just this moment. And for the first time in years, she let herself pretend.