Liam's POV
For two consecutive nights, visions of Clairemont draped in white haunted my sleep. The image of her in that wedding dress invaded my dreams like a curse I couldn't shake. The lack of rest was taking its toll, and I felt the weight of exhaustion pressing down on my shoulders. I needed caffeine and conversation to clear the fog from my mind.
I reached out to Owen and Damian, suggesting we grab coffee together. Maybe their company would help me regain some clarity.
As I stepped out of Owen's office, Hazel burst from her own office door, her face drained of all color. The sight of her distress hit me like a punch to the gut. Stella immediately followed her, concern written across her features. Every instinct told me to go after Hazel, but Owen's firm grip on my arm stopped me.
"Let Stella handle this, Liam," Owen's voice carried a note of warning. "The women think she's developed a stress ulcer from everything she's been dealing with."
