LIAM
The antiseptic stung as the doctor pressed a swab against my side. I clenched my jaw, fists gripping the edge of the cot, but it wasn't the pain that made me restless. It was the door. Every time it creaked open, my head snapped up, praying it was news about her.
Instead, the last thing I wanted materialized.
My father. And right behind him. Beatrice.
My chest burned hotter than the wound.
"Liam," my father's deep voice carried that commanding weight he always used when he wanted me compliant. "You're injured, sit still."
"I am sitting still," I muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. My glare stayed locked on the floor, because if I looked at him,or her,I wasn't sure I'd be able to hold back.
Beatrice's heels clicked softly as she stepped further in. "You look terrible," she said, her tone coated in false sweetness, the kind that used to fool me. Not anymore.
"Get out," I rasped.
"Liam….."my father started, but I cut him off, my voice rising.
"I said get out!"
The doctor flinched, hands freezing mid-motion. My breathing was ragged now, my side screaming from the sudden movement, but I didn't care.
Beatrice tilted her head, feigning hurt. "Is this how you treat the person who….."
"Don't," I snapped, my eyes finally slamming into hers, blazing. "Don't you dare act like you care."My throat closed, fury and fear choking the words.
My father's expression hardened. "Watch your tone. She's your wife to be. You're forgetting yourself."
I laughed bitterly, a harsh sound that made the doctor pause. "Forgetting myself? No, Father. For the first time in my life, I remember exactly who I am. And I am not going to stand here and watch you destroy more lives because of your stupid alliance."
Beatrice's face flickered, a shadow of unease crossing it, but my father only scowled deeper.
I leaned forward despite the doctor's protest, every word pulled straight from the raw ache in my chest. "If she dies because of this,because of you,I swear, nothing on this earth will make me play the obedient son again."
The room went silent except for my ragged breathing.
For once, my father didn't have an immediate reply.
The silence stretched until Beatrice broke it with a sharp laugh, brittle and venomous.
"So this is what it's come to? You blaming me again? As if you weren't just as guilty. Don't act like some saint, Liam...you played the game too. You wanted to see her break. You wanted her to fall for you. And she did."
The words stabbed through me like knives. My nails dug into my palms.
"Shut your mouth."
Her eyes glittered, daring. "No. Someone needs to remind you,you weren't her hero. You were her executioner. We both were."
"Enough!" My father's voice cracked like thunder, silencing the room. He stepped forward, towering over me. "You will not disgrace yourself,or this family,by dredging up childish mistakes." His gaze cut into me, cold and merciless. "Forget the past, Liam. You will marry Beatrice. That is final."
I forced myself to look up at him, rage boiling under my skin.
"You call what we did a childish mistake?" My voice trembled with fury. "We destroyed her. She's dead because of us. Because of me. And you want me to stand at an altar with the girl who laughed as she broke her?"
Beatrice flinched, but my father's jaw locked tight. He leaned closer, his tone deadly.
"She was weak. If she couldn't handle a little game, then perhaps she was never meant to survive."
Something inside me snapped. I surged forward despite the doctor's protest, my eyes blazing into his.
"You talk about survival? You're the reason she's in the ground. You. And I'll burn every bridge you've built before I let you bind me to her."
Beatrice's face twisted, the mask of composure shattering. "You hate me? Fine. Hate me. But don't rewrite history, Liam. You loved playing with her heart. You loved every second of it until it all went too far. So don't you dare...."
"I'll never love you," I spat, cutting her off. My voice dropped, low and shaking with truth. "Not now. Not ever. You disgust me."
The words hung heavy, poison in the air. My father's hand twitched, like he might strike me again, but the doctor interjected quickly, "Please, he needs rest….the wound…."
For once, I was grateful for the interruption. Because if my father touched me now, I wasn't sure I'd stop myself from striking back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BEATRICE:
The study reeked of Liam's venom even after I left it. My father walked briskly ahead with Mr. Hunter, their voices dropping low, plotting next steps, smoothing over what they saw as Liam's "rebellion."
But I wasn't ready to leave.
No. I needed to breathe. I needed to cool the sting of his words,the way he spat them like acid, the way he said he would never love me.
Never.
The word burned.
My heels clicked against the marble as I drifted down a different corridor, one I'd never bothered with before. It smelled faintly of disinfectant. White walls. Quiet. A part of the estate I had no interest in… until now.
I slowed when I caught murmurs. Nurses. A clinic, tucked into the house itself. Of course the Hunters would have one,they never let their secrets bleed in public.
And then I heard a name.
Not spoken aloud,just a quiet, reverent "the bodyguard" from one of the staff. The one who nearly died for Liam. Lauren.
The curiosity gnawed. This "Lauren" had been an annoyance from the start, always around Liam, always shadowing him. He listened to her in ways he never did to me. And something about her eyes…
I followed the sound, my heart racing, until I reached a half-open door.
There she was.
Flat on the bed, pale, fragile, her breathing shallow under the tangle of IV lines. The mask gone now, stripped away for treatment.
And in that instant, my blood turned to ice.
I knew that face.
My lips parted soundlessly. My chest tightened, my pulse hammering in my ears. I blinked once, twice, but the image didn't vanish.
Zara.
It was her. The ghost that had haunted me since high school. The girl whose heart I'd toyed with. The girl Liam had loved and lost. The girl who was supposed to be dead.
But she wasn't. She was here. Alive. And she was Lauren.
A laugh bubbled up my throat, hysterical, half-choked, and I slapped a hand over my mouth before the sound could escape.
No one knew. Not Liam. Not even her brother, wherever he was. But I knew. I'd stumbled onto the biggest secret in this house.
I leaned closer, just enough to drink in the sight of her still face, the faint scar along her jaw that hadn't been there in high school.
"You," I whispered under my breath, trembling with disbelief. "You're not gone."
And as I backed away slowly, forcing my breathing into silence, one thing became clear:
This changed everything.
I couldn't breathe.
The moment my eyes landed on her face, the room tilted. The monitors beeped faintly in the background, mocking the silence that had dropped over me.
Zara.
She was supposed to be gone. Buried in memory. Reduced to whispers in the halls of our high school, the tragic cautionary tale of a girl who couldn't handle the heartbreak.
But she wasn't gone. She was here. Alive. Right under our noses.
Fear prickled sharp and hot under my skin. If she woke up, if she spoke, she could destroy everything. Every carefully buried sin. Every cruel joke we'd laughed over. Liam's hatred for me—it would ignite tenfold. And my father's alliance? Shattered.
But as the panic coursed through me, something else slithered in,something darker.
Power.
Because I knew. I was the only one.
I leaned closer, my shadow stretching across her unconscious body, my voice barely a whisper.
"After all these years, you're still ruining my life. Still standing in my way."
Her chest rose and fell slowly, oblivious, fragile. I almost wanted to press my hand down, to silence that breath forever. But no,too risky. Too messy.
Instead, I let a smile curl at the corner of my lips. If Zara thought she had survived the game, she was wrong. This time, the board was mine, and I held the winning piece.
Still, I couldn't stop the shiver that rippled through me as I backed out of the room. The past wasn't dead. It was lying in that bed, breathing, waiting to wake.
And when she did, either she would burn me alive… or I'd make sure she wished she'd stayed dead.