Amelia had always known there were pieces of her life that didn't quite fit together — missing moments, hushed conversations, the way her father's face tightened whenever certain names came up. But nothing could have prepared her for the avalanche of truth that was about to fall at her feet.
It began innocuously enough. She had stayed late at the office, trying to drown her spiraling thoughts in work. Her meeting with Liam earlier that day still clung to her like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. His words, "You're mine," echoed relentlessly in her mind.
She needed clarity — not just about Liam, but about everything.
When the cleaning staff entered to tidy up the offices for the night, Amelia realized she couldn't stay here, locked in a cycle of confusion and denial. She needed answers. Answers she couldn't find in contracts or reports.
Instead of heading home, she turned her steps toward the company's archive room — a restricted area where old client files and partnership histories were stored. She had seen Liam and his closest advisors disappear behind that door enough times to know that important information was kept there. Maybe… maybe there was something that could help her understand.
The door was unlocked, a small mercy she hadn't expected. Amelia slipped inside, her heart pounding in her chest.
The room smelled faintly of dust and old leather. Rows upon rows of cabinets lined the walls, each marked meticulously with dates and project names. It was overwhelming at first, but she forced herself to focus.
If there was any record of her father's dealings with Liam or his company, it would be buried somewhere here.
It took nearly an hour of combing through files before she found it.
A thick folder, older than most others, with a faded label that simply read: "Hale - Blackthorne: Settlement 7 Years Ago."
Amelia's fingers trembled as she pulled it free and opened it on the nearest table.
The first few pages were contracts—complicated legal documents, heavily redacted in places—but the names were clear. Samuel Hale.Liam Blackthorne.
Her father and Liam had signed an agreement.
She flipped through, scanning desperately, until her eyes caught a section labeled "Breach of Contract: Personal Allegations."
Personal allegations?
Her chest tightened as she read further.
Apparently, Samuel Hale had once been a close business associate of Liam's father. Their families had been intertwined, trusted allies in the cutthroat world of corporate finance. But somewhere along the line, things had gone terribly wrong.
There were mentions of embezzlement. Betrayal. And worse — her father's name attached to accusations of corporate espionage.
No, she thought desperately, her pulse thundering in her ears. Not my father. Not him.
The more she read, the clearer the picture became.
According to the documents, Samuel had been accused of selling confidential information to Liam's competitors, causing the Blackthorne family's empire to suffer enormous financial losses during a critical expansion. There were meetings. Secret transactions. Evidence that had never made it to court because a private settlement had been reached.
Amelia sat back in the chair, her hands limp at her sides.
She had grown up believing her father was a good man. Flawed, perhaps. Sometimes cold. But honest at his core. Had it all been a lie?
No wonder Liam had treated her the way he did. No wonder he had looked at her with that burning, complicated gaze — as if he didn't know whether he wanted to destroy her or possess her.
In his mind, she wasn't just an employee.
She was the daughter of the man who had nearly ruined his family.
And yet… despite all that, he hadn't pushed her away. He had drawn her closer, again and again, until the boundaries between them were razor-thin.
Amelia closed the folder slowly, feeling hollow.
Was everything between her and Liam a calculated move? A part of some long game he was playing?
Or had the lines blurred for him too, just as they had for her?
When she left the archive room, the office halls were empty and eerily silent. The city lights outside cast a cold, bluish glow on the polished floors. She moved like a ghost toward the elevator, gripping the folder to her chest.
As she waited for the elevator, she heard footsteps behind her.
She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
Liam.
"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was low, almost amused.
Amelia pressed the folder tighter against herself, forcing herself to look at him.
"I could ask you the same thing," she said.
His lips curved into a faint smile, but there was tension in his eyes. He glanced at the folder she held but said nothing about it — at least, not yet.
"Walk with me," he said instead.
It wasn't a request.
She hesitated for a moment before falling into step beside him, the silence between them thick and charged.
They exited through the side door into the private garden behind the building—a hidden oasis of green surrounded by glass towers.
The night air was crisp, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.
Finally, Amelia broke the silence.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice shook slightly, but she forced herself to meet his gaze.
Liam's jaw tightened. "Tell you what?"
"About my father," she said bitterly. "About everything."
He looked at her for a long moment, and she could see the battle behind his steely eyes.
"Because," he said finally, "I didn't want you to see me the way you're seeing me now."
"And how's that?"
He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a trap.
"As someone capable of using you," he said quietly. "As someone who should have stayed away."
Amelia's throat closed up.
"Was it ever real?" she whispered. "Any of it?"
Liam exhaled slowly, and for once, the mask slipped from his face.
"I didn't plan for you," he said. "I didn't plan for this."
There was rawness in his voice, a rare vulnerability that made her heart ache even as her mind screamed at her to be careful.
"You think knowing the truth would change how I feel about you?" he asked. "Maybe it should. But it doesn't."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"And you think I can just forget what I found out tonight?" she asked.
Liam's gaze darkened. "No. I don't expect that. But I won't let it destroy what's between us either."
Amelia shook her head, taking a step back.
"I don't even know what's between us anymore," she said, her voice breaking.
Liam reached out, his hand brushing her arm, but she pulled away before he could touch her fully.
"Amelia," he said, his voice hoarse. "Whatever you decide—"
She turned away from him, needing space, needing air.
"—Just know," he continued, "I'm not letting you go without a fight."
Back in her apartment later that night, Amelia sat on the edge of her bed, the city lights shimmering beyond the windows. The folder lay on her nightstand, a silent reminder of everything she had uncovered.
She had come looking for clarity.
All she had found was more confusion—and a heart dangerously close to shattering.