The ride back was quiet, but not the good kind. It wasn’t peaceful or reflective.
Mason’s jaw was tight, his eyes flicking from the road to his phone like he was trying to solve a puzzle mid–drive.
“Sorry for that,” he muttered, breaking the silence. <fn1> For original chapters go to f?ndnovel</fn1>
“For what?”
“The mood shift. I didn’t mean to react like that. I just…can’t help it sometimes.”
I nced at him. “Is everything okay?”
He hesitated. “Someone’s trying to leak one of my songs. An unreleased track I nned to surprise fans with on tour.”
My brows lifted. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. My manager just called. He got tipped off by a music blogger.” His hand flexed around the wheel. “We’re trying to figure out how to stop it. That song…it’s personal.”
I reached out and gently touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Mason.”
He offered a tight smile. “Thank you. This kind of thing happens now and then. ?”
We didn’t say much after that. The silence lingered, stretching between us.
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He pulled to a smooth stop in front of my building, the hum of the engine low beneath the
tension.
“I’ll get out here,” I said, reaching for the door.
He nced over, his expression softer now. “Thanks for today. I know it got a little weird, but I’m d you came with me.”
I gave him a small, sincere smile. “Me too.”
He nodded once, then shifted into drive. “Take care, Emily.”
“Everything will be fine. Good luck.”
He gave me azy smile, then pulled away into the dusky street, his taillights disappearing around the corner.
I let out a breath and turned toward the building.
And that’s when I saw it.
A glossy ck Bentley parked directly in my driveway. I’d seen the exact car in Liam’s garage before.
My stomach tightened.
What was he doing here?
As if on cue, the driver’s side door opened and he stepped out. Perfectly dressed as handsome as always. But his expression was stoic.
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He looked furious.
:
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Then again, when was Liam ck not?
He walked toward me, one hand casually in his pocket, the other holding a matte ck gift box tied with a silver ribbon.
“For yesterday,” he said curtly, holding it out.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“A gift,” he repeated, his voice cool. “Apology, if you want to call it that.”
I stared at the box, unmoving.
“It’s really not necessary,” I said quietly.
His jaw tightened. “Don’t overthink it. Just take it.”
I took the box, not out of gratitude but because it felt like the fastest way to end the
conversation.
He turned without another word, slid back into the Bentley, and the engine roared to life, and secondster, he was gone.
I stood there for a moment, the box heavy in my hands, chest tangled in a mess of confusion.
Back inside, after settling in, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the unopened box like it might explode.
Eventually, I opened it.
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The ne gleamed beneath the soft lights. White gold and sapphires, arranged in an elegant arc of ridiculous value. One nce told me it was custom. Not something you picked up from a store shelf. This piece must have cost a fortune.
I almostughed.
Then I closed the box gently and set it aside.
There was no question in my mind. It was going back.
And I had a pretty good idea who
gave him
my
address.
“Jason,” I muttered. “That traitor.”
The next morning, I drove to Liam’s estate with the box quietly tucked away in the back seat.
When I arrived, I turned off the engine and stepped out. The box cradled in my hands, I approached the front entrance and rang the bell.
The door opened almost instantly.
And standing there, barefoot and breathtaking was a girl.
Young. Stunning. The kind of beauty that made you blink
She had big eyes, wless skin, and legs for days. She wore one of those expensive silk lounge sets that rich girls treat like pajamas.
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She smiled like we’d met before.
:
“Oh,” she said brightly. “You must be Emily.”
I blinked. “Uh, yes. I’m…”
Before I could finish, she stepped aside and motioned for me toe in.
“Come on in! I’ve heard about you.”
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I hesitated for half a second before stepping into the house, the box still cradled in my arms. The warmth of her energy caught me off guard, so different from the polished coldness of elite socialites.
She had the same easygoing charm as Jay. Warm, disarming, and impossible not to like. y. Warm, disarming, and impossible not to like.
Are you sure Liam wasn’t adopted?
“I’m Sophia, by the way,” she said, walking ahead with a light bounce in her step. “Liam’s only sister. And thest child of the ck family.”
I stopped in my tracks. “Wait… Liam has a sister?”
She turned back and gave me a yful look. “Shocking, right?”
“I just haven’t seen you in the media or anything.”
“On purpose,” she said, flopping effortlessly onto the edge of one of the plush armchairs like
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she owned the house. “I’ve seen what fame does to people. Paparazzi twisting stories, fake friends, fans thinking they know everything about you based on headlines.”
She waved a hand. “Not for me. I want my life to be private. Only a few people can actually put a face to my name.”
I couldn’t help but smile. There was something refreshingly real about her.
“I just got back from Spain,” she continued, tucking a leg under herself. “One of my best friends got married in this gorgeous vineyard outside Madrid. I almost didn’te back.”
“Sounds like a dream.”
“It was. But I had to return back home eventually. And apparently just in time to meet the girl my brother’s have been…”
She stopped herself, lips twitching.
I raised a brow. “Been what?”
She grinned. “Never mind, top secret. I’ll let him dig his own grave.”
Before I could reply, the air in the room shifted. It was suddenly thick and tense.
Footsteps echoed across the marble.
Then Liam walked in.
Sharp suit. Sharper stare.
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And when his eyesnded on me, holding that box, sitting beside his sister. You could practically feel the temperature drop.
He didn’t speak at first.
Neither did I.
The silence stretched. Tight and crackling.
Then, finally, his voice pierced through the silence.
“Emily?”