Mia left Vale's office in a daze, the folder clutched so tightly against her chest that her knuckles ached. She barely registered the congratulatory nods from colleagues in the hallway or the polished gleam of the firm's marble lobby. The words "I'll make you partner" still rang in her ears, louder than the click of her heels against the tile.
She pushed through the revolving doors into the late-afternoon haze, the city humming around her, but it all felt distant, muted—like she was underwater. Her car was parked in the underground garage, and she slid into the driver's seat, her hands trembling as she gripped the wheel.
Driving usually calmed her. The steady rhythm of tires against asphalt, the familiar hum of the engine—her car had always been her sanctuary, her one true reminder that she had built something of her own, with no one's help but her own. But today, even behind the wheel, she couldn't shake the weight pressing down on her chest.
She drove on autopilot, barely remembering the turns that led her back to her condominium. By the time she pulled into her designated spot and cut the engine, her throat burned with the effort of holding herself together. She carried the folder upstairs as if it might crumble in her arms, fumbled with her keys, and finally shut herself inside her place.
The silence hit her.
She kicked off her heels, dropped her bag by the door, and walked straight to her room. The moment she sat on the edge of her bed, the folder slid onto her lap like a verdict waiting to be read.
Partner.
The word throbbed in her mind, heavier than the folder itself. It was the dream she had bled for—the long nights, the endless arguments with herself to keep going when her body begged to rest. She should have been elated. She should have been celebrating.
But all she could see was him.
Liam Alcaraz.
His face in the boardroom, unreadable and sharp. The way his eyes had lingered on her like no time had passed. That flicker she swore she caught—the recognition, the anger, the unfinished business.
Her chest constricted until she couldn't breathe. She dropped the folder onto the bed and pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, trying to block him out, trying to will his memory away.
She had told herself she would never break again. That the girl who had loved him at eighteen was long gone, replaced by a woman who could stand on her own two feet. But one look from Liam had ripped her open, leaving her raw in ways she hadn't felt in years.
And now... partnership meant chaining herself to him. Every day. Every meeting. Every negotiation.
Her breath came in shallow bursts, her thoughts spiraling. "God, what am I supposed to do?" she whispered into the empty room.
Her phone sat on the nightstand. For a long moment, she stared at it, her hand frozen. Then, with trembling fingers, she picked it up and dialed the only number she trusted.
"Josh?" Her voice cracked as soon as he answered. "Can you come over?"
There was no hesitation on the other end. "I'll be there in fifteen."
Fifteen minutes later, a knock sounded at her door.
Mia dragged herself up, her legs heavy, and opened it to find Josh standing there. His tie was loosened, his jacket slung carelessly over one arm, his hair slightly mussed from the rush. The moment he saw her face—pale, tired, her eyes still rimmed with unshed tears—his expression softened.
"Hey." His voice was low, steady. Without waiting for permission, he stepped inside and set his jacket on the back of a chair. Then, gently, he pulled her into his arms.
The dam inside her cracked the second her forehead hit his shoulder. Her body sagged against him, all the tension of the day finally spilling out in a trembling exhale.
"What happened?" he murmured, guiding her toward the couch with the quiet patience only Josh could give.
She sank down, clutching the throw pillow to her chest like it was armor. Her throat was tight, her voice raw. "Vale offered me partnership today."
Josh blinked, then grinned wide, his whole face lighting up. "Mia, that's incredible! That's the thing you've been killing yourself for. The late nights, the weekends, the—"
Her head moved in a sharp shake, cutting him off. "It's not that simple, Josh."
The grin faded. He leaned closer, his brows pulling together. "What do you mean?"
"It's conditional." The word tasted bitter on her tongue.
His concern deepened. "Conditional how?"
Her eyes filled before she could stop them, her voice breaking. "I only get it if I take Alcaraz's account."
The air between them seemed to snap taut. Josh froze, his body going still. The name landed like a blow neither of them had prepared for.
"Mia..." His voice was careful, low, but she could hear the undercurrent of fury. "He's behind this, isn't he?"
She stared down at her hands, twisting the hem of her blouse until the fabric wrinkled. "Vale said Liam called directly. Demanded me. Said it was me or no one."
Josh leaned back, incredulous. His jaw tightened. "Unbelievable. After everything he did to you, after the way he left you—he dares to pull this stunt? To drag you back in?"
Her chest heaved, the tears finally spilling over. "It's my dream, Josh. Everything I've ever wanted is right there. Right within reach. And all I have to do is say yes." Her laugh came sharp, bitter. "But saying yes means putting myself back in his world. Sitting across from him. Hearing his voice every day. Letting him... undo me all over again."
Josh reached for her hands, strong and steady, wrapping hers in his. His grip anchored her. "Mia. Listen to me. You don't owe him anything. Not your career, not your peace, not your heart. You built this life on your own. You earned partnership with your blood, sweat, and tears. Don't let him twist it into another way to control you."
She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, her voice breaking. "But what if I can't walk away this time?"
Josh's gaze softened, but his words were fierce. "Then I'll remind you every single day who you are. You're Mia Villaruiz. You survived him once—you came out stronger, sharper. Don't you dare forget that."
She closed her eyes, leaning into his words, into the safety of his presence. His arms came around her, solid and warm, and for a moment she let herself breathe, let herself lean on him in a way she hadn't let anyone in years.
But even as Josh held her, even as he promised she was stronger than her past, the storm inside her wouldn't quiet.
Because no matter how much she wanted to deny it, Liam Alcaraz was back in her life. And this time, he wasn't asking.
This time, he was dragging her back into his orbit—and she wasn't sure if she was strong enough to resist.
The night stretched heavy, the city's lights glowing faintly through her curtains. Josh sat beside her on the couch, patient as always, while Mia's tea cooled untouched in her hands.
"I thought I buried him," she said quietly, staring at the dark surface of her cup. "I thought I buried all of it. But the second I saw Liam in that boardroom, it was like..." Her throat tightened. "Like every scar ripped open at once."
Josh's jaw flexed, his silence steady, waiting.
She drew in a shaky breath, and when she looked up, her eyes were burning—not just with hurt, but with something sharper. Fiercer.
"But you know what, Josh?" Her voice shifted, low but firm, steel threading through the cracks. "I realized something tonight. He's not back because of fate, or business, or coincidence. He's back because he thinks he can play with me again. Because he thinks he still has the power to make me crumble."
Josh's brow furrowed, his concern sharpening. "Mia—"
Her lips curved, not into a smile but into something harder, determined. "He's wrong. I let him destroy me once. That girl at eighteen... she didn't know how to fight back. But I'm not her anymore. And I will not let Liam Alcaraz fool me again."
Josh searched her face, wary but curious. "What are you saying?"
She set the mug down with finality, the soft clink echoing in the quiet. "Vale offered me partnership. Do you know what that means? Power. Recognition. The thing I've clawed my way toward all these years. And Liam thinks he can dangle it in front of me, make me choke on old feelings, and watch me run. But no." Her eyes flashed, fierce with defiance. "This time, I'm going to take it."
Josh blinked, stunned.
"I'll take Vale's offer. I'll sit across from Liam, day after day, and play his game head-on." Her voice sharpened into a vow. "But this time, I'll guard my heart. He won't break me. He won't win. If Liam wants to play, then fine—I'll show him that I can play better."
The fire in her eyes left Josh momentarily speechless. He had braced for tears, for fear, maybe even for doubt—but not this raw, blazing resolve.
Finally, he gave a slow nod, though his chest tightened with worry. "If this is the path you're choosing, Mia... then I'll be right here. Every step. Just promise me one thing."
She turned to him, her chin lifted. "What?"
"Don't let your anger turn into another cage. Don't let him decide who you are, even if you're fighting him."
Mia's breath hitched at the truth in his words, but her resolve didn't waver. "I won't," she whispered. "Not this time."
Josh sighed, pulling her into a hug, his voice low against her hair. "Then God help him, Mia. Because I know you. And if you've decided to fight... Liam Alcaraz doesn't stand a chance."
Mia closed her eyes, leaning into his steady presence. For the first time that day, her chest felt lighter—not because the storm was gone, but because she had chosen how she would face it.
This time, she wasn't running.
This time, she was stepping into the fire—on her terms.
The morning light streamed through Mia's curtains, soft and pale, but she hadn't really slept. Her body had rested, curled on the couch with a blanket Josh had thrown over her, but her mind had stayed restless—flashing between Liam's eyes in the boardroom and the word Partner stamped into Vale's promise.
Josh was still there, dozing in the armchair across from her, his head tipped back, his phone loose in his hand. She looked at him for a moment, her chest swelling with gratitude. He had stayed without being asked, without complaint—just like always. But this battle wasn't his to fight. It was hers.
Carefully, she slipped out from under the blanket, padded barefoot into her bedroom, and picked up her phone. The folder still lay on her bed, a silent reminder of the deal hanging over her head. She stared at it for a long moment, her heart pounding.
Then she dialed Richard Vale.
He answered almost immediately, his voice brisk. "Mia."
She swallowed hard, forcing the tremor out of her tone. "Sir, about the Alcaraz account."
A pause crackled over the line. She could almost see him in his glass office, leaning back in that leather chair, weighing her words. "Go on."
She tightened her grip on the phone. "I'll take it."
Silence. Then, slowly, Vale exhaled through the receiver. "You're sure?"
Mia's throat ached, but her voice held steady. "Yes. I'll handle it."
For the first time since yesterday, Richard Vale's tone softened, though it carried a gravity that pressed into her chest. "You should know something, Mia. When I offered you partnership, it wasn't charity. You've earned this with your work, your persistence, your results. But this case... this isn't like the others. Liam Alcaraz is not like the others. If you step into this, you'll be staring down a man who devours weakness for breakfast. And he's already shown his hand—he wants you."
Mia's chest constricted, but she forced her chin high even though he couldn't see it. "Then he'll get me. But on my terms, not his."
Vale was silent for a moment, as if weighing her words, testing their steel. Finally, he said, "Very well. I'll inform Alcaraz that you'll lead the negotiations. Expect his office to reach out by tomorrow."
Her pulse thundered in her ears. Tomorrow. It was real now.
"Mia," Vale added, his voice lower, almost warning. "Once you step into this room, there's no turning back. Do you understand?"
Her free hand curled into a fist at her side. "I understand."
The call ended with a decisive click.
Mia stood in the quiet of her room, the phone still warm against her ear, her breath unsteady but her resolve firm. She turned to the folder on the bed, staring at the bold letters of Liam's name stamped across the top.
Her heart twisted, memories clawing at her, but she shoved them down. This wasn't about him anymore. This was about her. Her career. Her future.
This time, she wasn't the girl waiting to be chosen.
This time, she was the woman walking into the fire with her eyes wide open.
And if Liam Alcaraz thought he could break her again, he was about to learn—Mia Villaruiz wasn't playing by his rules anymore.