Aleena
“Liam?”
The name left my mouth before I could stop it.
He stood a few feet away on the sidewalk, looking better than the last time I had seen him.
He had sharper jaw, broader shoulders, the kind of easy confidence that used to make me feel safe.
Now it only made the old wound ache.
My mind flashed back to the night he told me he needed space.
The weeks of silence that followed.
The final conversation where he said he couldn’t give me what I wanted, that I was “too much” and “not enough” at the same time.
I cried until my eyes swelled shut.
I had sworn I was over it.
Standing here now, I knew I had lied.
“Aleena.” His voice was careful, almost soft.
“Hey.
It’s been a while.”
I forced my face into something that resembled a smile.
“It has.”
Before either of us could say more, Sophia appeared from the direction of the café, smiling wide, completely unaware of the history standing between us.
“There you are,” she said, linking her arm through Liam’s.
“I was starting to think you’d gotten lost.
Aleena, this is Liam.
Liam, this is my girl Aleena, she’s the one I keep telling you about.”
The words landed like a slap.
I kept the smile in place even as something cold settled in my stomach.
“We’ve actually met,” Liam said quietly.
Sophia’s eyebrows rose.
“Wait, seriously?
Small world.”
“Old friends,” I managed, the lie tasting bitter.
“From years ago.”
She looked between us, clearly sensing something, but chose not to push.
“Well, perfect timing then.
We were just about to grab lunch.
Come with us.” This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
I wanted to refuse.
Every instinct told me to walk away.
Instead I nodded, because saying no would have required an explanation I wasn’t ready to give.
The café was bright and crowded.
We took a table near the window.
Sophia did most of the talking, explaining how she and Liam had met at a bar three weeks ago, how he had spilled a drink near her, she had laughed instead of getting angry, and somehow that had turned into late-night conversations and shared playlists.
Liam kept his eyes on his menu more than on me.
When he did look up, there was a careful distance in his gaze, like he was trying not to reopen anything.
I answered when spoken to, laughed when it was expected, and felt every second stretch too long.
Sophia noticed the tension—I could see it in the way her smile tightened at the corners—but she turned a blind eye, steering the conversation toward safer topics: work, weekend plans, a new restaurant she wanted to try.
By the time the check came, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
I made an excuse about needing to get back to the office and left before either of them could suggest otherwise.
The moment I stepped off the elevator, I saw Tara.
“My office,” she said.
I followed her in and closed the door.
She didn’t waste time.
“I have a new residential client starting tomorrow.
High-profile, particular, and willing to pay for quality.
You’ll be assisting the lead designer on the initial consultations and concept work.
This is the kind of project that gets people recommended for bigger things.
Don’t waste it.”
“Who’s the client?” I asked.
“You’ll get the full brief in the morning.
For now, clear your schedule and be ready to present preliminary ideas by the end of week.”
I nodded, already knowing I would do whatever it took.
I needed her recommendation.
I needed the work.
Even if the universe seemed determined to make everything complicated.
So I stayed at the office later than necessary, then went straight to the penthouse and avoided the main living areas.
Ethan’s car was already in the garage so I slipped into my room, changed into soft clothes, and told myself I would stay there for the rest of the night.
I only lasted twenty minutes, my body was filled with pent-up restless energy.
Then I remembered that I had spotted a gym at the far end of the hallway.
I dressed up in a short and sport bra and left my room before I could talk myself out of it.
Ethan was there and alone.
He was wearing a black training shorts with no top, that sat low on his hips.
Sweat ran down the hard lines of his chest and stomach, tracing the dark ink that covered one shoulder and spilled across his ribs with intricate patterns I had never seen fully until now.
His back flexed with every controlled pull-up.
The muscles in his arms and shoulders shifted under tanned skin, powerful and precise.
He dropped to the floor and moved into push-ups, the kind that looked effortless until you noticed how low he went and how slowly he rose.
The shorter haircut made the angles of his face sharper when he turned his head.
He looked older, yes, but the kind of older that settled into a man and made him look dangerous in the best way.
I stayed by the door and watched.
My mouth went dry.
Heat pooled low in my belly as I catalogued every detail, the way the tattoos moved with his breathing, the controlled power in his thighs, the quiet focus on his face that reminded me of the man who had once ordered me to touch myself and then denied me.
The confrontation from the night before still burned in my chest, his cold words echoing, but my body didn’t care.
It only wanted.
I stepped back into the darkness before he could look toward the doorway.
I turned quickly, desperate to escape before my face betrayed me.
“Miss Aleena?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
A maid stood a few feet away, staring at me with a confused expression.
“Sorry,” she said quickly.
“I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine.” I forced a smile and hurried past her.
I practically ran to my room, closing the door behind me before pressing my back against it.
That was embarrassing.
I needed to get a grip.
After changing into my pajamas, I picked up my laptop, deciding to check my emails before bed.
There was a new message from Tara.
Subject: New Client Brief
I clicked it open, expecting the details of tomorrow’s project.
Instead, my eyes landed on the client’s name.
My breath caught.
Liam Carter.
For several seconds, I simply stared at the screen.
Of all the people in the world, it had to be him.