Page 5 of Begin Again, Part 2

Liam didn't want to go in. He didn't want to talk. There were much bigger problems in the world than his dick. A few of their partners had jumped ship, and the company had lost almost half a billion in revenue since the attack. But the monetary loss would never compare to losing his drivers, and he explained this to Linda.

"That's exactly why you should come in," she insisted. "I'm worried you'll regress to unhealthy coping mechanisms with all the pressure you're under."

"I pay you to fix my dick, Linda. I don't want to talk about my feelings!" Liam yelled when it became obvious she wasn't hearing him. "And unless you're calling to tell me you've found a solution to my problem, I don't think there's a point to these weekly check-ins."

"What about Eden?" Linda asked, bringing up the one person Liam didn't want to think about, had tried not to think about. An impossible challenge since Eden had permanently taken up residence in his head and heart rent-free.

Liam missed her, but he couldn't look at her without remembering his crushing defeat. He didn't know how to face her after his disastrous attempt to fuck her fell flat. He still hadn't dealt with the humiliation of it all.

"What about her?" he demanded.

"She told me you cut her off from your therapy sessions."

"I did." Liam shot out an angry breath, amazed that Eden had tattled on him.

"Why?"

"Because I can't keep hurting her," he explained. "You said so yourself; none of this is her fault. She's the trigger, and I need to figure this shit out on my own."

"She wants to help you."

"Both times she was there, she cried buckets," Liam reminded her as he looked out of the window. "Do you know how much my heart bled seeing her cry like that?"

"She cried buckets because of the divorce with her parents."

"All the more reason I shouldn't put any pressure on her," Liam said. "She's dealing with a lot—her parents' divorce, the assault, and a small baby to worry about. It's not fair to keep piling shit on her."

"Talk to her," Linda suggested. "She's confused and hurting and thinks she did something wrong. Tell her why you cut her off from your sessions."

"Okay," Liam said, his gaze back on the security feed on his laptop. "I'll talk to her."

But he didn't. Instead, he jumped on his private jet with a few senior executives and flew all over the country for weeks, trying to salvage the now fragile relationships with their business partners.

When he wasn't wining and dining balding, old men with egos as massive as their bank accounts, he snapped up every bankrupt logistics company he could get his hands on, determined to turn them all around and make them profitable depots and warehouse centres.

As the CFO, Julian was rightfully troubled by his reckless spending. He had endless meetings with him, in person when he was in Rock Castle or via video call when he was out of town, pleading with him to stop buying junk companies they didn't need.

"Why do we need a depot in Sparrow Beach of all places?" Julian demanded during one such meeting in Liam's office. "No one ever buys anything there. They still use the post office for all their shipping needs."

"That's exactly why we need a depot. No one should still be using the post office in this day and age," Liam argued. He'd just flown back from Sparrow Beach and should have headed home to regroup before heading off to his next conquest. But Julian had summoned him, insisting their chat couldn't be an email like Liam had suggested.

Their back and forth continued for some time, reaching a point where both men would have come to blows if neither backed down.

"It's not just the ridiculous depots, Liam. You are pissing off a lot of our competitors, stealing deals it took them months to negotiate from right under their noses!"

"It's called business," Liam retorted. "If they can't take the heat, they should get the hell out of the game!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Julian fumed his way to the bar and pulled out a fresh bottle of vodka. He uncapped it and drank it neat, carrying on with his rant as he set it down on the coffee table. "I don't care about your pissing contest with the Ivanovs. But for God's sake, Liam, you're already a dead man walking with a target on your back. Not to mention we're still dealing with the collateral damage from the warehouse fire and the trucks we lost. We can't afford to take any more hits. Shut this shit down and come home!"

Julian was right. Liam knew that. But still enraged over his failure to protect his drivers, playing a little Russian roulette with his own life didn't seem like a terrible idea.

Aleksei Ivanov and his twin, Andrei, were the number one suspects. All evidence pointed to them. But since half the police force in Rock Castle was on their payroll, the investigation would never go anywhere, and the families of his drivers would never get justice or find closure. Taking billions worth of contracts from the Ivanovs would never bring back his drivers. But it was as close to justice as Liam would ever get.

Two weeks ago, while he was eyeballs deep in the investigation, Aero Shipping came close to signing a multi-billion rand deal with LUSSO. When Liam got wind of their contract negotiations, he'd gone in guns blazing to snag the luxury goods giant. Everything he'd done to get LUSSO to reconsider jumping into bed with Anderson Logistics was above board. But Aero Shipping didn't take kindly to his bold move. The Ivanov brothers had promised to retaliate. Again. And it was their threat of reprisal that made Julian antsy.

"Look," Liam tried to appease his cousin. "We're already in the advanced stages of negotiations with LUSSO. What's the issue?"

"The issue is the Ivanovs. They don't fuck around, and you know this. You saw it with the trucks, and that was when things were still amicable between us." Julian released a shaky breath.

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