CHAPTER SEVEN

Ethans POV

The world inside the grand ballroom had become suffocating. The chandelier above cast golden light over the swirling figures of guests lost in laughter and conversation, but I could barely hear anything past the roaring in my ears.

I should have stayed inside. I should have played my part, smiled at the right people, nodded at my father’s allies, and endured the slow death of duty.

But I couldn’t. Not after Liam.

Not after the way he looked at me on the balcony, after the words that still clung to my skin like a second heartbeat.

"You think you can keep hiding, but you can’t."

I tightened my grip around my glass, swallowing the last of the whiskey in one burning gulp.

Across the room, Diana was speaking to one of the executives from my father’s company, her smile poised, her posture flawless. She was the perfect fiancée, everything I had agreed to, everything I should want.

Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something there. A question. A suspicion.

I turned away before she could read too much.

The air was warm and anticipatory in the ballroom. My father stood offstage, talking to guests with that effortless command of his. He was preparing to make his speech, the one in which he would remind them of Campbell's tradition, of my responsibility, of the future I was to uphold.

I couldn't do that. I set my glass down on the table, barely registering my own feet as I stepped out of the group.

I needed air. I needed out.

The lounge was dim, a stark contrast to the lavish ballroom. A single lamp cast a warm glow over the leather sofas, and a tiny bar lined the back wall. It was quiet, secluded.

Safe. Or so I thought.

"We meet again."

My body tense

I didn't turn. I didn't need to.

Liam's voice was low, even, with something unguessable behind it.

I glanced at him, my heart pounding. "I do not wish to have another conversation, Liam."

Liam tilted his head, looking at me. "Is that what you really want?"

I hated him then.

Not because of what he was telling me, but because he could see past me. Because he always could.

"Just have the party, Liam." I was abrupt, tense. "Forget it. Forget anything you think you know about me."

Liam stepped closer again, encroaching on me. His scent was warm and fresh and familiar and it wrapped itself around me, pulling me under.

"Tell me you don't want this," he breathed.

I gulped.

"Say you don't think about it," he continued, his tone softer now, taunting, cruel. "That you don't remember how it was. How we were."

I caught my breath.

"Say you don't lie awake at night wondering…"

I lost it.

Before I could even know what I was doing, I had him by the collar, shoving him back against the wall.

The impact caused a framed painting to swing, but neither of us was noticing.

Liam's eyes were black, lips parted a fraction, as he stared at me, unwavering.

I should have walked away. I should have let him go.

But I didn't.

My fingers curled into a fist, my breathing ragged. "You think this is a game?" I growled.

Liam's lips twisted, slow and observant. "No, Ethan. I think you are the one playing."

Something inside me shattered.

I pushed my lips against his, hard and desperate.

Liam didn't hesitate. He pulled me in, his fingers in my hair, his chest against mine.

It was insane. But It was everything.

The kiss deepened, raw and ravenous, the denial unraveling in a matter of seconds.

I could feel myself igniting in fire, wild and uncontrollable. His hands stroked my back, gripping, demanding, as if he'd waited as long as I had for this to happen.

I hated him. I needed him.

The door was closed. I couldn't remember locking it, but maybe he had. Maybe we both knew this was an inevitability.

The room was black, but I could see him, his reddened face, the swell and subsidence of his chest as he edged back just enough to catch my eye.

His lips were red, swollen. His pupils were dilated.

"Say it," he whispered.

I shook my head, having difficulty breathing.

"Say it, Ethan."

I couldn't find the words.

So I just kissed him again, harder this time, desperate to get lost in something other than duty, expectation, my father's darkness.

Liam growled against my lips, keeping me close, and it all melted into heat, desperation, and the aching recognition that I already was lost.

………….

The room was silent when we were done.

I stood at the side of the couch, my hands still quivering, my heart still racing.

Liam came slowly to a sitting position, his expression unchanging.

I couldn't look at him.

This wasn't supposed to happen. This couldn't happen.

Not today. Especially not today.

I stroked my hair, gasping. "This was a mistake."

Liam didn't respond for a great while. Then softly, "Is that what you really think?"

I swallowed, squaring my face into something frigid, something blank.

"It doesn't make any difference what I think," I lied, my voice hollow. "It doesn't change anything."

Liam let out a slow sigh, his expression blank.

"So then I guess I'll meet you in the grand hall," he whispered.

And with that, he walked away.

Leaving me where I stood, gasping, broken, and more lost than before

The door closed. Liam was gone.

And I was standing there. Shaken. Blazing. Unable to breathe.

The room was quiet, but it wasn't vacant. His presence still clung. Stuck to me like a second skin.

The scent of him was mild, cologne mixed with sweat and something explosively sexy. The heat of his hands branded my skin.

My knees were trembling. I was holding onto whatever was closest; a dresser, a table, I didn't even know, just to keep my feet under me.

What the fuck did I just do?

What the fuck did I just let happen?

My fingers were clenched.

I should loathe it. I should be repulsed, ashamed, enraged.

But all I could feel was raw. Open. Like something within me had been ripped open, and I couldn't close it back.

Liam kissed me. No, that is not the correct way to put that.

I kissed him.

I swallowed hard, the sandpapery feeling of my throat dry and scratchy.

I could feel tension building again. I had to escape this place.