Chapter 13 Sirens and Secrets.
Chloe’s POV
Liam stood over me in the dim file room, my phone glowing in his hand, the patent photos staring back at both of us. “Delete them now,” he said, voice low and controlled.
Exactly, the kind of tone that didn’t need volume to feel like a threat: “Or I press send on the funding cancellation right now. The hospital gets the email and your mom will get unplugged.”
His blue eyes locked on mine, unblinking, cold and absolutely certain. Outside, police sirens screamed closer, red and blue lights flashing across the walls from the street far below. Dad must have caused a real scene in the lobby. Security probably called it in.
While still standing and thinking, my thumb hovered over the delete button. My heart slammed against my ribs. Those photos were everything: proof that the Astors stole my father’s patent and proof that this family built part of their empire on lies. But Mom… Mom was on machines, on borrowed time, on money that flowed only because Liam allowed it. One click from him and she was gone.
“Do it, Chloe,” he repeated, stepping closer until his chest almost touched mine, heat rolling off him. He placed the phone in my palm himself, curling my fingers around it. “Or watch everything burn.”
I swallowed hard. My thumb moved. One by one, as the images vanished and the gallery was empty. I handed the phone back, barely a whisper. “Done.”
He checked fast and nodded once, then grabbed my wrist, firm, not painful, but impossible to pull away from and pulled me out of the file room.
He locked the door behind us with a soft click. “Good girl,” he muttered as the sirens stopped right under the building, doors slamming and voices shouting in the lobby.
We took the service elevator down. Marcus was already waiting in the alley, black SUV idling. When we got to the SUV, Liam pushed me into the backseat, climbed in after me and the car shot forward before the door even fully closed.
He sat close, thigh pressed against mine, city lights streaking past. His hand settled on my knee and squeezed, hard enough that I knew there’d be bruises tomorrow. “You dig again,” he said quietly, no anger, just fact, “and I end it all. Understand?”
I nodded, staring out the window, with my heart racing. But when I remembered what I had done earlier, I smiled to myself. He didn’t know I’d emailed the photos to Olivia from the place that I hid twenty minutes ago. He didn’t know I’d hit send the second Margaret and his parents walked into that space. Backup was already out there.
The car pulled into the private garage of his penthouse. We took the elevator upstairs. Doors opened straight into the apartment, dark and cold, floor-to-ceiling windows showing the city glittering like it didn’t care about any of this. Liam went straight to the bar, poured two whiskeys, neat and handed me one. “Drink.”
I took it from him. The burn down my throat felt good and grounding. He downed his in one go and set the glass down hard. His phone buzzed. Margaret is video calling him.
He answered and kept a calm face again. “Handled, Grandmother. All problems have been solved, false alarm and old files too, but Chleo is not doing anything; all those are rumors.” He lied; that's smooth and practiced. She bought it for now. He hung up.
He turned to me immediately with his eyes darker than the whiskey. “You test me too much, Chloe.” One step, two and he was on me, backing me against the kitchen island, hands on my hips, lifting me easily until I sat on the cold marble edge.
“Punishment time,” he whispered, his mouth crashing into mine, rough and hungry, tasting of whiskey and control.
His tongue pushed past my lips, claiming, demanding. I kissed him back because my body was a traitor, always was. His hands ripped my blouse open, with my buttons scattering across the floor. Skirt shoved up to my waist, thighs spread wide.
He tore my panties off in one yank, the fabric stinging as it gave way. Two fingers plunged inside me without warning, curling hard and hitting that spot that made my back arch. His thumb found my clit, circling fast on it mercilessly.
I moaned loudly into his mouth, my hips bucking against his hand. “You like defying me,” he growled against my lips, biting down, pulling my hair back so my neck was exposed. He sucked hard just below my jaw, marking me and branding me. Three fingers now, stretching and pumping, wet sounds filling the kitchen. I came fast and suddenly, shaking hard and spilling over his hand and crying out his name.
He brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean while watching me. “Taste your disobedience,” he said, voice rough.
Then he spun me around, bent me over the island, and flipped my skirt up, while exposing my bare ass.
His belt buckle clinked, the zipper was down, and his cock jumped out, thick and hard. He pressed against my entrance and thrust deep in one brutal stroke, filling me completely.
I cried out, fingers scrabbling for grip on the marble. He didn’t wait and started pounding hard and fast, skin slapping loudly in the quiet apartment. One hand fisted my hair, pulling my head back, while the other hand came down on my ass, a sharp sting.
“This is for digging,” he said, spanking again, harder. “This is for your dad,” another slap, fire blooming. “This is for thinking you can win,” he snarled, thrusting deeper, on the perfect angle and most importantly, hitting my G-spot relentlessly.
I was sobbing, moaning, pushing back against him and chasing the next orgasm even as tears ran down my face. He reached around and rubbed my clit rough and fast.
I came again, harder, walls clenching around him, milking him. He groaned loudly, buried deep and came inside me, hot spurts filling me and pulsing, a creampie dripping down my thighs as he pulled out slowly.
“Mine,” he whispered, one final slap on my burning ass.
He fixed his pants, walked away and left me bent over the counter, panting, shaking, cum leaking and skirt ruined. I pulled myself together on weak legs, skirt down and blouse hanging open.
My hidden burner buzzed in my handbag. It was Olivia. “Photos sent anonymously to Forbes, Bloomberg, Page Six and directly to Margaret’s personal email. The theft story is live in thirty minutes.”
I smiled slightly and deleted the text fast. Immediately, I heard Liam's phone ringing. Liam’s phone exploded, with Margaret screaming on video the second he answered. “Explain the patent leak online right now! Scandal breaking everywhere! Control your little whore, or you lose everything, Liam!”
His face went pale. “Working on it,” he said, voice tight, hanging up.
Brian burst through the door minutes later, no knock. “Your grandfather’s will has a morality clause. Public scandal voids the entire inheritance transfer. It’s trending, Liam. #AstorTheft.”
Liam looked at me then, blame burning in his eyes, but before he could speak, my burner rang; it was Dad from the police station. I answered on speaker. “I have more proof ready to go public unless the Astors make full reparations. Return the patent. Pay what it was worth millions, or the next drop destroys you all.”
Liam heard every word, jaw clenched. I slipped into the bathroom quickly, locked the door, and forwarded the power-of-attorney threat emails and the recording I’d made of Margaret in the office, her voice clear: “I will tell my grandson to end her mother’s care tonight and we will frame the father for fraud again.” Sent to Olivia with one line: “Release everything.”
I flushed the toilet for cover, washed my hands and walked back out.
Liam stood there holding my burner, call log open. “Who were you talking to?”
I met his eyes, calm. “You’re not the only one with recordings.”
I pressed play on the app, which was still running. Margaret’s voice filled the room: “If Chloe’s digging, my grandson will end her mother’s care tonight and we will frame her dad for fraud again.”
His face changed. Something shifted behind his eyes; realization and leverage weren’t one-sided anymore.
He set the phone down slowly. “We do this together,” he said, his voice different, softer and almost human. “We buried my Grandma Margaret down. She believes everything I say, supports me and I get the inheritance. You get your mom safe, your dad’s patent back and freedom. Fake marriage, real protection and no extra contracts, just partners running an ongoing deal.”
For the first time, he wasn’t ordering. He was asking. I stared at him, chest tight. Was this another game? Or was the mask finally cracking?
Before I could answer, his main phone rang again. Hospital name on screen. He put it on speaker.
“Mr. Astor? This is Dr. Patel from the ICU. Mrs. Carter took a sudden turn and her breathing failed. We had to intubate and… the anonymous donor funding just stopped. We’re moving her to the county ward unless payment resumes immediately.”
The world tilted. My knees buckled. I screamed, raw, broken and falling to the floor.
Liam caught me before I hit the marble, arms strong around me, holding me tight for the first time, not like punishment, but like he was scared too.