Page 90 of Liam
LIAM
The first thing I notice when I step into my kitchen is the smell. It’s not the lingering aroma of this morning’s coffee or the faint scent of lemon from the cleaning service. It’s something metallic, sharp.
I freeze, my hand still on the light switch, as my eyes adjust to the dim glow reflecting off the windows. That’s when I see him—a figure leaning casually against my counter as if he belongs here. But the glint of metal in his hand tells a different story.
“Hello, Liam,” the intruder says, his voice as cold as the barrel of the gun he’s pointing at me. “It’s time we had a chat about your father’s sins.”
My mind races, cataloging details even as adrenaline surges through my system. Male, about my height, lean build. Face obscured by a mask. The gun—aGlock, if I’m not mistaken. And that voice... There’s something familiar about it, something that tugs at the edges of my memory.
“You have me at a disadvantage,” I say, keeping my tone level. “Care to introduce yourself?”
He chuckles, the sound devoid of any real humor. “Oh, you know who I am. Or at least, you should. After all, I’ve been right under your nose for months now.”
And then it clicks. The voice, the posture, the way he holds himself—it’s all achingly familiar. “Arlo,” I breathe, the name tasting like ash in my mouth.
“Ding ding ding,” he mocks, pushing off from the counter. “Give the man a prize. Though Arlo’s not my real name, of course. It’s Elias. Elias Nort. Ring any bells? I think you connected the dots by now. Am I right?”
Elias Nort.No.This can’t be happening.
“How did you get in here?” I ask, buying time as I assess my options. The security system should have... Oh God. He knew exactly when Marcus won’t be here. He was following me.
Elias waves the gun. “Well, let’s say your sister made that remarkably easy. It’s amazing what people will share when they’re in love.”
Rage boils up inside me at the mention of Cora. This bastard used her, played with her emotions, all to get to us. To me. “If you’ve hurt her?—”
“Relax,” Elias cuts me off. “Your precious sister is fine. Unharmed. For now, at least.”
The threat hangs in the air between us, heavy and ominous. I take a careful step forward, hands raised. “Whatever you think you know about my father?—”
“I don’t think, Liam.I know.” Elias’s voice hardens, allpretense of civility dropping away. “Iknowhe murdered my father in cold blood. Iknowhe used his money and influence to cover it up. And Iknowthat your entire family has been living off the profits of his crime for years.”
I shake my head, desperation clawing at my throat. “It’s not that simple. There are things you don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly,” Elias snarls, advancing on me. “I understand your father is a murderer. I understand that your family is complicit. And I understand that it’s time for all of you to pay.”
I see the tension in his arm for a split second before he moves. I lunge forward, grabbing for the gun. We grapple, our bodies slamming into the kitchen island. Pain explodes in my side as I hit the edge, but I don’t let go.Can’t let go.
Elias is strong, fueled by years of hatred and resentment. But I’m fighting for more than my life—I’m fighting for my family, for my sister, for Aleria, for everything I love.
We spin, crashing into the refrigerator. Magnets and photos scatter across the floor, a kaleidoscope of memories under our feet.
I get a hand on the gun, trying to wrench it from his grip. Elias snarls, slamming his forehead into my face. Stars explode behind my eyes, pain lancing through my skull. But I hold on, knowing if I lose my grip now, it’s over.
We’re both panting, locked in a deadly dance. The gun between us is a constant threat, a hair-trigger away from ending it all. One slip, one moment of weakness, and?—
The sound of a knock on the door freezes us both.
“Liam?” Aleria’s voice calls out from behind the door, bright and beautiful and terrifyingly unaware of the danger onthe other side. “I got those pastries you like,” she calls out. “The ones from that little bakery?”
God, please. Not her. Anyone but her.
Elias uses my moment of distraction. In one fluid motion, he twists, breaking my hold. Pain explodes in my wrist as he wrenches it back, forcing me to my knees. The gun now points at my head, his control complete.
His mouth curves into a menacing smile as he leans in. “Well, well,” he sneers, his voice a low, venomous whisper, his breath hot against my skin. “Look who’s come knocking. Pretty little thing, isn’t she?”
I can’t stop the panic that surges through me. “She has nothing to do with this, Elias. She’s not a Valeur,” I say, my voice low, desperate. “Let her go.”
His smile widens, enjoying my fear, savoring the power he holds. “Oh, I know exactly who she is. And I don’t really care.” He cocks his head, pretending to consider. “But you know what? I’m feeling generous tonight.”
