God. Of all the companies Vale could hand her, of all the CEOs in this city, it had to be him.
Eight years had passed, yet the second she stepped into that boardroom and saw him at the head of the table, it was like being eighteen again—helpless, gutted, betrayed. But this time, she hadn't let it show. She sat there, spine steel-straight, mask firmly in place, pretending he was just another opponent. Pretending she didn't know the man whose gaze had burned into her like a brand. Pretending she didn't remember the way his mouth once stole every rational thought she had.
She hated him. She hated the way he looked at her, like he knew every memory she was fighting to bury. And worse—she hated how much hotter he was now.
Time had carved away the boyish edges of Liam Alcaraz and left behind a man who was all lethal grace and power. Broader shoulders, sharper jawline, the commanding presence of someone who owned every room he walked into. But damn him—he still had that boyish curve at the corner of his mouth, the one that used to make her knees weak and her mind go blank. That infuriating mix of dangerous and familiar.
Mia thought eight years was enough time to forget Liam Alcaraz—to bury the boy who shattered her heart and the pain he left behind. She told herself that if their paths ever crossed again, she would be immune. Untouchable. Unmoved.
But standing here now, staring at the man he had become, she realized how naïve she had been. It took every ounce of her self-control not to march across the room and either slap him or—worse—kiss him. The mere thought disgusted her, and she hated herself for still wanting what she had sworn to destroy.
She had once promised herself she would make him pay. And now, faced with him again, she had no idea how to do it without sacrificing the one thing she had fought so hard to protect—her own heart.
What she didn't know was that Liam had his own unfinished business with her.
Mia shoved the glass doors open and stepped out of the boardroom, her heels clicking too sharply against the polished floor. Her lungs burned as if she'd been holding her breath the entire time she was inside. In truth, she probably had.
She didn't slow down until she reached the end of the corridor, bracing her palm against the cool marble wall. Her other hand clutched her briefcase so tightly her knuckles ached. She closed her eyes, forcing air into her lungs—one breath, then another.
Her nails dug into her palm as she forced herself upright. Get a grip, Mia. She was no longer that girl who let him dismantle her heart in front of half the world. She was a lawyer now. The youngest partner-to-be in Vale & Co., the woman even seasoned executives feared across a negotiation table.
And yet one meeting with him had left her trembling in a hallway, fighting to keep the walls she'd built from crumbling.
"Damn it," she whispered under her breath, blinking hard against the heat stinging her eyes.
She would not break again. Not because of him.
She smoothed her blouse, squared her shoulders, and walked toward the elevators with steady, deliberate steps, her heels echoing like a battle drum. To anyone watching, she was composed—untouchable. But inside, her heart was a storm she couldn't silence.
The worst part wasn't even the betrayal she'd endured eight years ago. The worst part was realizing, in that split second when his gaze locked with hers, that some part of her body still remembered him. Still reacted to him. Still ached.
And that terrified her more than anything.
That night, sleep refused to come. Mia tossed and turned, flipping her pillow, pulling the blanket higher, then pushing it off again. Her body was exhausted, but her mind wouldn't rest—not with him back in her orbit.
With a frustrated sigh, she sat up, her hair spilling over her shoulders in messy waves, and reached for her laptop. Maybe work would silence her thoughts. Work always did. It was her shield, her escape. The law was safe, predictable. Contracts, pleadings, and case files never betrayed her. At Vale & Associates—the most prestigious law firm in the country—she was known as relentless, brilliant, unshakable. The kind of lawyer who could reduce seasoned executives to silence with nothing but her arguments.
But tonight, none of that power seemed to matter.
When the screen flickered to life, she didn't type a single word. She just sat there, staring blankly at the glow until the clock ticked past midnight, then one, then two. Her hands hovered over the keyboard, frozen.
This had never happened before. Not once. Not even during the bar exams, not even with the toughest cross-examinations or the highest-stakes negotiations. Work was the one thing she never lost control over. And yet tonight, she was unraveling. She knew why. She knew exactly why.
Liam Alcaraz.
The name alone made her chest tighten. She tried to shove the thought away, shaking her head, but it was useless. The memory of his face—older now, sharper, carved by time and success—burned into her mind. Gone was the reckless boy she once loved.
He was a man whose every feature seemed refined, perfected: the strong cut of his jaw, the commanding set of his shoulders, the piercing gaze that made entire boardrooms fall silent. He was no longer just handsome—he was devastating, the kind of man women couldn't help but turn their heads for.
And that mouth... the same mouth she once thought would whisper forever now curved into a stranger's smile—untouchable, more dangerous, more desirable than ever.
Her fingers finally began to move, but not on legal briefs or corporate contracts. Instead, she opened a blank document and started typing furiously, as if the clatter of keys could drown out her thoughts. A list. A list of ways to make Liam pay.
Humiliate him at a board meeting. Refuse every deal he offers. Outmaneuver him in court. Expose his arrogance in front of the very people who worship him.
The list grew sillier with every line—put bubblegum under the handles of his fancy sports car, swap his imported coffee with ordinary powdered milk, hack his playlist so it only played nursery rhymes like Baby Shark on repeat, blow up his high school yearbook photo and tape it to the office elevator, or even pay someone to trail behind him wearing a cape and plastic crown, shouting, "Bow down to King Liam the Spoiled!
Mia blinked at the absurd bullet points before bursting out laughing. It felt ridiculous, childish even—but strangely liberating. For a moment, the heaviness in her chest eased.
Then reality crept back in. She sighed and deleted half the list, slumping against the headboard. Her anger surged again, sharp and hot.
Her hands trembled. A bitter laugh escaped her lips. "Damn you, Liam," she whispered to the empty room.
The sound was swallowed by the silence of the night, leaving her with nothing but the steady hum of her laptop. She closed her eyes, the glow reflecting off her lashes, and cursed him again. Not just for breaking her heart eight years ago, but for making her feel like this now—wild, restless, and completely undone.
And the cruelest part? Beneath the anger, beneath the endless plotting, there was still that tiny, traitorous part of her that remembered what it felt like to love him.
For years she'd carried the weight of her anger, the vow that one day she would make Liam Alcaraz bend, make him pay for the heartbreak he left behind. But tonight, staring at the glow of her laptop, the fire inside her suddenly felt... exhausting.
Maybe it wasn't worth it anymore.
A quieter voice whispered through the noise of her thoughts: let it go, Mia... forget him... free yourself. For the first time, she didn't argue with it. The idea of revenge no longer thrilled her—it only made her feel tired, hollow. What she wanted wasn't to see Liam broken. What she wanted was peace.
Her eyes drifted to the folder on her desk—thick, weighty, embossed with the logo of Alcaraz Global. The client Vale had personally handed her. The biggest account the firm had landed in years. If she succeeded, she wouldn't just prove herself again—she would cement her name in the firm's history, force even Richard Vale himself to admit it was time. Time to make her a partner. Time to give her the recognition she had bled for.
And yet, she couldn't do it. Not with him.
Because no matter how many strategies she drafted or how many scenarios she imagined, one truth gnawed at her: she wasn't afraid of losing the case. She was afraid of losing herself. Afraid her heart would betray her again, the way it had eight years ago, and that she would have to relive the misery and the pain she barely survived the first time.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, trembling. Then, slowly, she began drafting the message to her boss. She would step away from the Alcaraz account. Turn it over to someone else. Vale would understand. He trusted her judgment, even when he didn't like it.
When she hit save, a long sigh escaped her lips, heavy yet strangely freeing. She knew what she was giving up—a shot at prestige, power, and the partnership she had dreamed of since her first day at Vale & Associates.
But surrender didn't feel like defeat. Not tonight.
For the first time in eight years, Mia chose herself.
"Mia, what is the meaning of this?" Vale's voice cut through the silence of his office, sharp with disbelief as he stared at the document she had just handed him. His brows drew together, his tone teetering between disappointment and shock.
"I can't believe this," he muttered, shaking his head.
Mia straightened in her chair, though her hands twisted in her lap beneath the desk. "Mr. Vale, I know how it looks," she began carefully. "But I believe it's better for the firm—and for me—if I withdraw from the Alcaraz account."
Vale's eyes snapped up, steel-gray and piercing. "Better for the firm? You do realize this is the biggest client we've landed in years. The kind of case that shapes careers, Mia. The kind people remember you for."
"I know," Mia admitted softly, her chest tightening as the words sank into her. "And maybe that's exactly why I shouldn't be the one handling it. There are others who want the chance—Lisbeth, for example. She's been eyeing this case since the moment you announced it. Let her take it. She'll thrive on the attention, and it will silence her complaints that you always favor me."
Vale's lips pressed into a thin line. "This isn't about Lisbeth's petty jealousy. You've earned this, Mia. And you know it."
She forced herself not to flinch, not to let the storm inside her show. "With all due respect, sir, you don't understand. Lisbeth has been accusing me of things since the day I walked into this office. She's convinced everyone I flirt my way into your good graces, when all I've ever done is work twice as hard to prove myself. I've ignored the rumors because I know who I am. But this... this is different. This isn't just another client." She paused, steadying her voice. "It's Alcaraz Global. And if I take it, I risk undoing everything I've built here."
Vale leaned back in his chair, studying her with unnerving silence.
Mia's throat tightened. She wanted to bury every trace of her past, every truth about Liam, and she had to choose her words with precision. "I can't take this case without losing something I've fought too hard to protect. Not because I can't win it, but because winning it might cost me more than I'm willing to pay. I can't..." Her voice faltered, then firmed. "I won't take that risk. Not even for the promise of recognition."
A quiet weight settled over the room, as though her decision had stolen even the air from it. Vale's face softened, but the disbelief didn't fade from his voice. "This isn't just another client, Mia. This is the chance lawyers wait their whole lives for. Do you realize what you're about to give up?"
"I do," she whispered. "And that's why I know this is the right choice. For my peace of mind... and for the firm. Give it to Lisbeth, or to anyone else who wants it. As for me—" she drew in a steadying breath "—I'll wait for another battlefield. Anything but this one."
"Alright," Vale said at last, his tone measured though surprise still lingered in his eyes. "If that's truly what you want, I won't press you for the reason. I'll respect your decision. But, Mia..." he paused, leaning back slightly, "I only hope you don't come to regret it."
"Thank you, sir," she replied softly, rising from her seat. Relief washed over her as she stepped out of his office, the heavy air lifting from her shoulders the moment the door closed behind her.