Abby worked through the night, fueled by adrenaline and the sheer necessity of the task. The aggressive counter-offer had to be perfectly worded, legally sound, and strategically intimidating. She found herself thriving under the pressure, executing decisions with the speed and finality Liam himself employed. By 5:00 AM, the proposal was finalized and sent.
She took a moment to look out the window. The sun was just beginning to touch the highest skyscrapers, bathing the city in a soft, gold light. She hadn't been home in over twenty-four hours, and her body was screaming for rest, but her mind was exhilaratingly clear.
Just as she was packing up to rush home for a quick shower before the day officially began, the private elevator pinged.
Abby froze. Only Liam, his grandmother, and the highest-level security personnel had access to the 50th floor at this hour.
The door slid open, and there stood Liam Sterling.
He was wearing the same dark suit from when he left, but it was rumpled, and his tie was loose. He looked weary and heartbroken, his eyes red-rimmed from fatigue and grief. But beneath the exhaustion, the formidable power was still there, coiled and ready.
He stepped out of the elevator, stopping short when he saw Abby at his desk.
"Abby. What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice rough, heavy with the weight of his trip.
She stood up quickly, trying to smooth her skirt. "Mr. Sterling. You're back early. I was just finishing up the final counter-offer on the Han deal. It had to be sent by 5:00 AM to meet the deadline."
Liam walked past her to his desk, looking at the papers, and then at the screen, absorbing the complexity of the deal she had managed. He didn't thank her; he just slowly took off his suit jacket and draped it over his chair.
Then he looked at her again, his expression shifting from corporate scrutiny to something deeply personal.
"I got your message about the lilies, Abby. Sarah mentioned you moved them, citing an allergy." He walked closer, his eyes narrowed, studying her face.
"Yes, sir. The scent was intense. I thought it best to remove any potential irritants from the executive floor during this critical time," she replied, her voice steady, even though her heart was pounding.
Liam was only a foot away, his physical proximity overwhelming. He lifted a hand, and Abby instinctively braced for a touch, a professional adjustment, anything.
Instead, his fingers brushed lightly against her sleeve, near her shoulder. He didn't touch her skin, but she felt the heat of his gaze and his weariness.
"That scent is from the lilies V. sent," he said, his voice quiet. "V. is my ex-fiancée. We broke off the engagement two years ago, but we share a loyalty to my grandmother. She was only showing concern." He dropped his hand. "You don't have allergies, Abby. I've known you for two years. You never flinch around any fragrance."
He leaned down, closer than ever, until she could smell his skin, the clean scent of his travel soap, and the faint, lingering cedarwood. He looked directly into her eyes, his green gaze holding a dangerous mix of personal grief and professional suspicion.
"You're lying to me, Abby," he stated, not as a question, but as a fact. "About the lilies, about the fever in Hong Kong, and about the family matter. I want to know why. And I want the truth now."
The silence of the office was deafening. He had called her out. The moment she had dreaded had arrived, not in a boardroom, but in the intimate, pre-dawn quiet of his private office. Abby stood her ground, the fierce, protective instinct of the mother-to-be finally overriding her fear of the CEO. Her greatest defense was her unwavering sincerity, even if she couldn't give him the whole truth.