Liam stared out the vast window of his office, his reflection a dark silhouette against the New York skyline. The city throbbed with life beneath him—cars weaving through traffic, neon lights beginning to flicker to life as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Yet all he could see was her.
Amelia.
She was slipping through his fingers, and he could feel it like a noose tightening around his throat.
The way she smiled when she was around Julian. The way she relaxed in his presence in a way she rarely did with Liam. The distance growing in her eyes every time they spoke. It wasn't just professional anymore. It wasn't just about business or the past. It was personal. It was about her heart.
And Liam Blackthorne didn't lose. Not in the boardroom. Not in life. Not in love.
He pressed his fingers to the cool glass, feeling the tension coil inside him like a loaded spring. Losing Amelia wasn't an option. Not after everything he had invested. Not after the way she had started to change him without even realizing it.
He needed her.
But need wasn't enough.
He had to make sure she needed him too.
A sharp knock at the door pulled him from his spiraling thoughts.
"Come in," he barked.
It was Evan, his most trusted assistant, carrying a folder filled with updates from the morning's meetings.
"You wanted the latest on the Crane Innovations project," Evan said, setting the folder down on Liam's desk. "And… there's something else."
Liam arched an eyebrow.
Evan hesitated, then added, "Julian met with Amelia Hale today. Off-site. It looked... personal."
A muscle ticked in Liam's jaw.
"Did he offer her something?"
Evan nodded. "Word is, he wants her on his team. Senior position. Full creative control."
Liam clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.
Julian wasn't just trying to lure her professionally. He was offering her a way out—a way to escape Liam's influence, his world. A clean slate.
And if Amelia accepted...
Liam couldn't finish the thought.
"Leave," he said curtly.
Evan bowed his head and slipped out of the room.
Alone again, Liam paced the length of his office, every step heavier than the last. He knew he couldn't stop Julian by conventional means. Crane Innovations wasn't a threat to Blackthorne Enterprises directly. It wasn't business — it was personal. Which made it infinitely more dangerous.
He needed a new strategy.
Something that wasn't about coercion.
Something that wasn't about pressure.
Something about desire.
If Amelia chose to stay with him — chose him — it had to be because she wanted to.
But how did you make someone want you when doubt was already poisoning their heart?
The answer hit him like a strike of lightning.
You remind them of everything they'd lose.
The next day, Liam set his plan into motion.
He personally invited Amelia to accompany him to an exclusive gala hosted by one of the city's most prestigious foundations. It was the kind of event where careers were made and alliances forged — the kind of event she couldn't easily turn down without raising suspicion.
When he called her into his office to extend the invitation, she looked at him warily, like a wild thing sensing a trap.
"A gala?" she echoed, arms folded across her chest.
Liam leaned back in his chair, studying her.
"I want you there, Amelia," he said, voice low and deliberate. "You've been instrumental in preparing the new campaign. It's only right that you be recognized."
She hesitated, her gaze flickering.
"And… that's all?" she asked quietly.
Liam smiled, slow and dangerous.
"For now."
She flushed, her hands tightening around the file she carried.
"I'll think about it," she said.
But he already knew she would come.
Because Amelia Hale wasn't someone who walked away from a challenge. And she certainly wasn't someone who turned her back on opportunity.
He would give her the world that night. And he would show her that no one — not even Julian — could offer her what Liam could.
When the evening arrived, Liam waited at the bottom of the grand staircase of the Blackthorne Tower, his black tuxedo tailored to perfection, his hair slicked back, every inch the ruthless billionaire king he was rumored to be.
And then Amelia appeared.
For a moment, Liam forgot how to breathe.
She wore a floor-length gown of deep emerald green, the color so rich it made her skin glow. The dress clung to her curves in all the right ways, elegant and provocative all at once. Her hair was swept up, leaving her neck exposed, vulnerable.
She was, without question, the most beautiful woman in the room.
And tonight, she was his.
"Wow," he murmured, stepping forward to offer his arm. "You're... breathtaking."
Amelia blushed, but there was steel in her eyes too.
"I'm here for the work, Liam," she reminded him softly.
"Of course," he said, smiling, but inside, he knew: tonight was about much more than business.
The gala was a symphony of glittering lights, clinking glasses, and murmured deals. Power players circled the room like sharks, but when Liam and Amelia entered, heads turned.
He made sure of it.
He introduced her to CEOs, to senators, to cultural icons — people she had admired from afar, people she had only ever dreamed of meeting.
And each time, he let them see her brilliance. He let them admire her, respect her.
He made her feel irreplaceable.
Because she was.
Amelia dazzled them all, handling every conversation with poise and intelligence. But every now and then, Liam caught a shadow crossing her face — a flash of uncertainty, of internal conflict.
Good.
He needed her off balance.
He needed her his.
Later, after the speeches and the awards, as the crowd thinned and the music softened, Liam guided Amelia onto the terrace overlooking the city.
The night was cool, the stars sharp against the dark velvet sky.
For a long moment, they stood in silence.
"You fit into this world," Liam said finally, his voice rough. "More than you realize."
Amelia hugged her arms around herself.
"I don't know if I want to," she whispered.
Liam turned to her, his expression fierce.
"Don't let fear make your choices for you," he said. "You're not your father's daughter. You're not my pawn. You're your own person, Amelia. And you deserve everything this world has to offer."
She looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Liam..." she began, but he didn't give her a chance to finish.
He cupped her face in his hands, lowering his forehead to hers.
"I don't want to control you," he said hoarsely. "I want to have you. I want you to choose me."
Amelia's breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought she would pull away.
But she didn't.
Her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket, clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a world spinning out of control.
And in that moment, Liam knew:
The battle wasn't over.
But the war for Amelia's heart had truly begun.
And he would do whatever it took to win.