Chapter 48
Chapter 48:
Alistair smiled.
“An empire,” he said.
“Count me in,” Skye replied. “I have money to burn and a lot of anger issues p>
Skye didn’t go back to the apartment. She drove straight to the Manor.
She hadn’t planned on returning, but her confrontation with Liam had sparked a sudden, terrifying realization. In her rush to leave after the gala, she had left behind the one thing she absolutely could not lose: the key to her mother’s Swiss deposit box. It was hidden in a false bottom of her jewelry box in the master suite. Without it, she could not access the emergency funds she needed to finalize the construction down payments. Beatrice had been threatening to audit the room, and if she found it, Skye’s financial independence would be compromised.
She parked down the street and walked up the driveway. The house was dark. Liam should have been asleep, or passed out.
She let herself in quietly. The air felt heavy, charged with static. Skye climbed the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps out of habit.
She slipped into the master suite.
It was empty.
She exhaled and moved quickly to the vanity. She popped open the false bottom of the jewelry box. The small silver key glinted in the moonlight. She grabbed it, along with her mother’s vintage emerald necklace—the only sentimental item she cared about.
She turned to leave.
The bathroom door creaked.
Liam was sitting in the dark, in the armchair by the window. He was holding a bottle of scotch. He was soaked, still wearing his wet suit from the hotel. He smelled of alcohol and rain.
“Did you enjoy the show?” he asked, his voice slurred.
Skye didn’t back down. She pocketed the key and the necklace. “Get out of my way, Liam p>
PDFs on be.com
He stood, swaying. He dropped the bottle. It didn’t break; it rolled across the carpet with a dull thump.
“You humiliated me,” he said, stepping toward her. “In front of everyone p>
“You humiliated yourself,” Skye shot back. “You burst in there like a jealous teenager p>
“I am jealous!” Liam shouted. He grabbed her shoulders. His hands were wet and cold. “I’m your husband! Look at me! Why don’t you look at me the way you look at him p>
“Because he respects me!” Skye screamed back. “Because he didn’t leave me to die in a warehouse! Because he sees me, not just a prop on his arm p>
Liam flinched. The truth hit him like a physical blow.
“I didn’t mean to…” he whispered. “I panicked p>
“You are a coward, Liam,” Skye said, her voice dropping to a whisper. “And I’m done waiting for you to be a man p>
Something in Liam snapped. The grief, the guilt, the alcohol—it twisted into something ugly.
“I am a man,” he growled.
He tried to kiss her. It wasn’t romantic. It was violent. A claim. He shoved her against the wall, his mouth crushing hers, trying to force a reaction, trying to prove he still owned her.