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For the second time tonight, I feel watched. I lift my chin, and my eyes freeze on a man, perhaps a few years older than me. His dark hair matches his black-blue eyes. I have never seen eyes this color and this penetrating. I’m fascinated, a bit frightened too. His unapologetic stare never wavers from me, as if I hold a secret to an unsolved puzzle for him.
The stranger watches me without blinking. Not even once. He’s the definition of “put-together.” I blink at his broad chest to assure myself there’s actually a beating heart inside. His full lips curve into a magnetic smile. It’s like my curiosity excites him. For him, it is a game, but I recognize the expression of his eyes too well, recklessness. He poses a threat and emanates strength, but I’m not afraid. I’m more afraid of my heart than this stranger, who looks at me with a recognition in his eyes as if he knows me.
I won’t speak first, and he cocks his head at my determination. Displayed on his sharp face is one emotion—curiosity. His lips arch into a half-smirk, and he approaches me, one firm step after the other.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his voice deep and sure. It’s more a rhetorical one as I crane my neck to stare into his eyes. Anyone looking at me would realize I am everything but right.
“Who are you? And why do I have the impression you think you know me?”
“Direct, I see.”
I arch my eyebrows, and he offers, “I am Liam. You’re perceptive, smart, and beautiful.”
It is like he’s reciting facts, his voice lacking any kind of emotion. I place my hand over my heart. It’s not getting better. I need to lie down, bring my heart under control. His facial expression changes to worry. But why would he care?
“You’re not well, Bria. Let me help you.”
My eyes ask him a hundred questions, but my energy level drops, and my knees wobble under me.
“I just want to talk to you. And right now, I’m the only one who can help you. We have someone we care about in common.”
My mind spins, but I still feel the loaded emotion when he says the last part. He has to be talking about Alex. His face contoured into outrage when I peered at him, questioning him if I’m in danger with him, eases me further.
“There’s a room, it’s quiet. I’ll give you medicine—aspirin and beta-blockers, right?” So, he knows about my condition as well. I nod, and he goes on. “It will calm your heart, and you can rest on the couch.”
He has the medicine I need, so it’s the risk I have to take. Damien will absolutely hate my decision. He’d call it stupid, I would call it curiosity.
I follow him down the hidden stairs to the basement.
Chapter Twenty-Five
BRIA
The lights flicker dimly along the long corridor, the smell of a damp basement lingering in the air. We stop at the only door in sight at the end. Liam opens it and lets me in. I sink into the brown leather couch and try to collect myself. Small golden-washed lamps cover every one of the four walls and shed light on the matte green wallpaper, and an enormous mahogany desk divides the room. There’s another room where he just disappeared, but I remain still and wait for his return. I will take the medicine, ask a few questions, and rush back upstairs. Damien must be fidgety by now.
He returns with a glass of water and two yellow, transparent medication bottles. I study them and swallow one of each and place the glass on the oval table beside me.
“Are we even allowed to be in here?” I ask as I look around the room.
“I am.”
A few minutes later, the medication settles in and I breathe, relieved. Liam leans against the desk, his eyes lost in deep thoughts, as one finger taps to an unknown beat over his lip.
Is he nervous or rather impatient? The silence becomes too loud to be acceptable for strangers as we stare at each other with too many questions and too little time.
“Thank you.”
“You should always have at least one with you. You might be better, but you still have a heart condition.”
His words end in a chastising tone. He’s right, but it doesn’t sit well with me.
“You don’t know me, Liam, except perhaps my name, what I do, how I look, but that’s it.” He scoffs and arches a brow in contradiction, challenging me to retract my words. It’s the arrogance of a man who has seen and experienced a lot. I’m certain most of it always on the edge between right and wrong, legal and illegal.
“It’s your life. It must be hard to prepare for years for a death that never came. And I know you like I know you see what no one else sees in me.” I sit straighter, and I lift my gaze to him.
“It seems we already know too much about the other for this conversation to be between strangers. So, you believe you know all about me, then I need to know all about you. It’s only fair.” I’m genuinely curious, although I’m aware I’ll never get my answer. There are invisible walls stacked around him, an unconquerable fortress.
He stands, walks toward me, and sits on the other end of the couch. He cocks his head in my direction, his eyes fixed on me.
