Amy Hawkes barely heard the front door click shut behind her, her mind very much distracted by the noisy and crazy circular flow of thoughts that kept hammering at her.
The smell of rain clung to her coat as she tossed it onto the chair by the door, the fabric heavy with the weight of the afternoon storm. She had barely stepped into the apartment when she saw it.. a small, neatly folded envelope on the kitchen counter. It looked out of place, resting in the center of the black marble like a symbol of something that didn't belong. She frowned, setting her bag down with a sense of predicting something bad. Her eyes scanned the quiet room, the silence pressing in, heavy and stubborn. The once-a-year dinner.. their first wedding anniversary.. that had been planned for tonight.. the meal she'd spent weeks organizing.. seemed a world away from the chilled emptiness that now filled the apartment. Liam hadn't been home when she arrived. Not that it was unusual. He'd been distant lately, but she told herself it was just the stress from work. But now, as she stood there, her pulse quickening, her look kept returning to the envelope. Her fingers shook with fear and emotion as she reached for it. The smooth paper slid easily from its place, the handwritten address on the front absolutely clear: For Amy. Her name, written in Liam's familiar script. The envelope felt heavier than it should have, as if it held more than just paper. Slowly, she tore the top open, the sound of it too loud in the silence. Inside, a single sheet of paper lay flat against the inside of the envelope. She unfolded it carefully, almost carefully, like fearing the letter would burn her fingers the moment she read it. But it wasn't the paper that burned her. It was the words. Amy, I've always cared about you, but I don't know how to say this any other way. I think it's time we end this. You've known for a while that our marriage was never what it seemed. I know this will hurt you, but we both need to move on. You deserve more than this. You deserve someone who can give you everything. This is the end of our marriage. Liam. The words blurred before her eyes, and the paper shook in her hand as her mind struggled to understand what she was reading. No. No. It couldn't be true. Her heart pounded in her chest as she read the letter again. And again. Each time, the words didn't change. The letter was short, cold, and completely without feeling of love, hate, guilt, etc. The man she had married.. her husband, her partner in this life.. had ended it with a few lines of text on a piece of paper, left showing little concern in a relaxed way on the counter like an overdue bill. Her stomach twisted into a knot as the world tilted beneath her feet. The pain was sharp, sudden, and constant. She held in hand the letter to her chest, her breath coming fast and shallow. Liam had never been the type to open up, but this.. this was a final blow, delivered without warning. She spun on her heels, her breath coming in sudden, short breaths in as she ran down the hallway toward their bedroom, her mind screaming for answers. As soon as she opened the door, she saw him.. Liam, standing by the window with his back to her, staring out over the city, his profile lit by the fading light of the stormy evening. "Liam?" Her voice shook emotion even though she did not want to. He didn't turn to face her, didn't even move because of pain at the sound of her voice. He just stood there, his broad shoulders slumped under the weight of something she couldn't see. "Amy, I... we need to talk." Her blood ran cold. That tone.. distant, detached.. wasn't the Liam she knew. He was never like this. They'd fought before, sure, but never like this. Never so... quit. "I already know what we need to talk about," she said, her voice shaking with a mixture of anger and hurt. "You've made it perfectly clear." She held up the letter, her hand shaking (with fear or emotion). He didn't react at first, but she could see the tension in his way of standing, the way his muscles tightened. "Amy," he began, his voice soft but firm, "this marriage.. it was always a contract. It was a business deal, not a love story." He turned slowly, his eyes locking onto hers for the first time. "Our families.. my father, your father.. they made sure this was never about us. We were both caught in it." The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, the world around her seemed to fall away. She tripped while walking back, holding in hand the letter tighter. "What do you mean?" She couldn't even recognize her own voice, the way it cracked with shock/not believing. "What are you saying? You.. we.. this... it wasn't real?" Liam's look softened, a look of something almost like pity crossing his features. He took a step toward her, but she took a step back, shaking her head desperately. She wanted to scream. Wanted to demand the truth from him. "You knew, Amy. You had to know," he continued, his voice low and full of apologies. "Our families arranged this. We were supposed to marry to save your father's company, not because we were in love." Her chest tightened with the force of the words, her mind trying to make sense of them. She blinked quickly, as if to clear the fog that had moved downward/originated on her. She could feel her body shaking as the reality of what he was saying began to sink in. Everything they'd built together, everything she had believed in, was a lie. "And you just... let me believe that this was real?" Her voice was barely a whisper now, raw with the sting of betrayal. "All this time, you let me think you loved me?" Liam's eyes flickered with something unreadable, but his expression remained guarded. "I did what I had to do. You were never meant to know." Amy's knees went weak, and she sank onto the edge of their bed, her hands holding in hand the fabric of the letter so tightly it began to tear. The truth, as ugly and cold as it was, hung in the air between them like an invisible force. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. The weight of the moment pressed down on her chest, and for a few seconds, she simply stared at him, the man she had loved with everything she had, her heart raw and exposed. "I'm sorry, Amy," Liam said quietly, almost too softly. "I really am. But we both need to move on now. It's time." Her mind raced, but the one thought that cut through everything else was this: Liam wasn't the man she thought he was. Her hands shook as she stood up suddenly, the room spinning as her mind tried to keep up with the reality crashing down around her. She felt like an outsider in her own life, an unwilling person who was part of a study, etc. in a game she never even knew she was playing. And then, as she turned to leave the room, the phone on the nightstand buzzed, breaking the silence with a cold vibration. Amy paused, looking down at the screen. It was a message from her father's lawyer. The message simply read: Call me when you see this, it's important. Amy's heart skipped a beat. She turned back to Liam, her mouth dry. She wanted to scream at him. But instead, she whispered, "What else aren't you telling me?"Amy's breath caught as velvet curtains brushed her bare shoulders. The gala stage lights were nothing like the soft lamp glow from that night two years ago, but the memory snapped down on her all the same.~Flashback~She had been laughing then.. young, tired, barefoot on the penthouse balcony. Liam came up behind her, a jeweler’s box hidden in one hand. He fastened a sapphire necklace at her throat, cool stones sliding over warm skin. “For the woman who never lies to me,” he whispered. Amy turned, smiling at the joke, and noticed the second glass of wine already half‑empty on the railing. One glass too many. She asked who had joined him before she arrived. He said no one. A week later she learned the first lie had worn lipstick.~Back to now~The ballroom spun back into focus. Amy adjusted the thin strap of her silver dress, steadying her pulse. That necklace.. her necklace.. now glittered on Celine's collarbone across the room. Every sapphire an old bruise.Music swelled. Waitstaff
The knock came at dawn, three sharp taps that rattled the hotel‑suite door.Amy jolted awake, adrenaline burning away the last scraps of sleep. She opened the door a crack and found Bruce in the hallway, eyes bright, hair still damp from the shower.“Package arrived,” he said. “Time to spring the trap.”No coffee, no small talk.. just business. Amy liked that about him, even when it scared her.Action moved fast. An hour later they sat in a borrowed office three floors below, the kind used for pop‑up war rooms and quiet takeovers. On the table lay a thin manila envelope. Inside: doctored financial statements Bruce's tech contact had whipped up overnight. They looked real.. enough to fool a bloodhound.Bruce slid the pages toward the open laptop camera. “Our mole will pass these to Liam within the hour.”Amy crossed her arms. “And you’ re sure the metadata points to only three people?”“Positive.” He tapped the screen. “If it leaks, we trace the document signature. Whoever forwards it
Amy slammed her laptop shut like it had personally betrayed her.She didn't move right away.. just sat there in the dim hotel suite, the glow from the city skyline flickering against the windows. Her chest rose and fell a little too fast.That message..'You' re not safe. He’s planning something bigger..' was still echoing inside her like a warning bell in a church tower.She hadn't replied. Hadn't forwarded it. Hadn't told Bruce.Yet.She rubbed her hands together like she could scrub the chill off her skin. Maybe it was paranoia. Maybe it was just another ploy to shake her up. But something about the image… Liam speaking to that shadowy figure in the hallway, tension radiating from his posture like a weapon being cocked… it didn't feel like strategy.It felt personal.A knock sounded at the door. She tensed. But then, a second later, a familiar voice.“It’s me.”Bruce.She didn't answer right away. Gave herself a breath. Two.“Come in,” she called.He stepped inside, holding two coff
" Amy , marry me.”Amy dropped her pen mid- signature . “I’m sorry.. what?”Bruce stood across the boardroom , hands in his pockets like he’d just suggested lunch, not fake marriage. The morning sun poured through the windows, catching the sharp edge in his eyes.“Not for real,” he said, stepping forward, voice even. “A fake engagement. Public. Strategic.”Amy leaned back in her chair, trying to process. “You want me to fake an engagement to you? Why now?”“Because Liam just filed an emergency appeal to block your access to the Hawthorne voting shares ,” Bruce said, sliding a legal folder across the table. “He’s painting you as unstable . Impulsive . A liability to the company your father built. But if you’ re seen as grounded , moving on, and.. this part’s key.. aligned with a respected business partner? The narrative flips .”Amy stared at the file, its red tab screaming *URGENT.* She barely heard Bruce now. Her brain was running circles around one word: **engagement**.“I get the s
Amy stood in the middle of the office conference room, staring at the city skyline beyond the glass wall as her thumb hovered over the “send” button. A single message. Just one sentence. That’s all it took to set everything in motion.Bruce leaned against the doorframe behind her, arms crossed . “Are you sure about this?”“No,” she said quietly. “But we don’t have time to wait for safe plays. If Liam is feeding off my next move, then it’s time we start feeding him lies .”She hit send.The fake leak was out. A confidential email.. stating Amy had secured a deal with a fictional French investor to buy out her father’s flagship tech subsidiary—now floated in carefully chosen inboxes . Ones they knew Liam ’s people had eyes on.All they had to do now was wait.Bruce walked over, sliding a folder across the glass table. “In case this works, we’ ll need real numbers to back it up just long enough to sell the story. I’ ve prepped everything.”Amy didn ’t respond right away. Her jaw clenched
Amy adjusted the collar of her blazer in the restroom mirror, her fingers slightly trembling. Her heels clicked against the marble floor as she stepped out into the grand foyer of the hotel where the Hawthorne Group’s annual charity gala was underway .It was technically a corporate event.. board members , potential investors , old-money socialites.. but Amy knew the game. These parties were where alliances were made and reputations cemented . And tonight, she wasn ’t just here to smile politely . She was here to send a message.She descended the staircase slowly, her gaze sweeping the crowd. Everyone was dressed to impress, champagne glasses in hand, conversations polished and hollow. She spotted three of the board members near the terrace, already deep in discussion. That would be her first stop.But then.. Liam .He stood near the open bar, wearing that perfectly tailored suit like armor , surrounded by laughter, a glass of whiskey in hand. Amy could almost smell the smugness rolli