Chapter 187

Chapter 187

Morgan's POV

I turned around, startled to find Ethan standing right behind me. His designer suit was immaculate as always, the mysterious mask covering half his face. I'd never once seen what lay beneath it in all our months working together. He wore it like a second skin, completely unbothered by the stares it attracted.

"Princess," he greeted me, the word carrying that familiar mix of mockery and affection that always managed to both irritate and comfort me.

"Please, can you watch her for a minute? I need to check something," I said, my voice tense. I gently pushed Emma toward Ethan. "I'll be right back!"

Before Ethan could protest, I was already rushing toward the corner where I'd spotted a figure watching Emma. My heart pounded against my ribcage. If Liam thought he could pull some trick to get Lilith's daughter, he had another thing coming. No one in the world could take that child away if Lilith wanted to keep her—especially not the jackass who'd abandoned Lilith when she needed him most.

I rounded the corner and stopped dead in my tracks. Liam stood there, looking awkward and surprised to be caught. My brother. The man who'd disowned me when I needed family most.

"Lilith told you no, right?" I snapped, anger rising in my chest. "Is that why you're lurking around here?!"

Liam offered an apologetic smile. "Well... not exactly..." he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another. "This is purely a coincidence, but I'm so happy to see you, Emma— I mean, Morgan—"

"It's Morgan, and I'm happier without you, thanks." My voice came out cold as ice. "Stay away from Lilith's daughter, or I'll have her file a restraining order."

I expected him to get angry or defensive—that's what the old Liam would have done. Instead, he just smiled gently, which infuriated me even more.

"Jerk!" I spat, turning to walk away.

"Now that you're back in LA, I thought maybe we could catch up?" Liam called after me, his voice cautious despite his bright smile. "I'm really sorry about what happened before, but I can explain-"

I turned back, my face a mask of disdain. "I don't care about your explanation, nor about claiming your last name," I said flatly. "I'm not your express way to Lilith, save it!"

"It's not about Lilith," he said quickly, following me. "I never meant to hurt you, I swear! I was just trying to protect you-"

The audacity of his claim made my blood boil. "By taking Olivia's side against me? Or by keeping my parents away from me for that little fortune of yours?" I was nearly shouting now. "You have no right to deny me my own parents!"

Liam's shoulders slumped. "I-you are right," he admitted softly. "I have no such right... What happened to you was my fault, both times! I owe you and I want to make amends--"

His admission caught me off guard. I felt my anger wavering, like ice beginning to thaw after a long winter. Three years in prison had taught me to hold onto my rage—it was safer than hope—but something in Liam's eyes made that harder than usual.

"Alexander told me you were looking into the car accident," I said, my voice slightly softer than I intended. The memory of that day flashed through my mind—screeching metal, shattered glass, pain beyond imagination, and then... darkness. A darkness that had stolen more from me than just consciousness.

Liam shook his head dejectedly. "But Catherine still escaped. I've been trying to find her for these three years, but there's been no trace of her. It's like she just... vanished into thin air."

I studied my brother's face—really looked at him for the first time in years. A childhood memory suddenly surfaced: seven-year-old Liam sitting cross-legged on our playroom floor, tears welling up after I'd snatched his favorite toy car. Mom had knelt beside him, smoothing his hair. "Sometimes we share with those we love, even when it's hard," she'd said. He'd looked exactly as he did now—hurt but trying to be brave.

My chest tightened with an unexpected ache. Before prison, before the Montgomerys, before Alexander—there had been family. Real family. The kind that shared blood and memories and history.

"Liamy..." The childhood nickname slipped out before I could stop it, my voice barely above a whisper. A name I hadn't spoken in twenty years.

His face brightened instantly, hope replacing resignation. "You remember me, Emma?"

A storm of emotions swept through me—anger at his betrayal, longing for family, fear of being hurt again, and beneath it all, a small, persistent voice whispering that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't completely alone in this world. My throat tightened as I tried to speak, memories flooding back of skinned knees and Christmas mornings, of Liam teaching me to ride a bike and defending me from playground bullies.

"My birth name was Emma," I managed finally, my voice unsteady, "and you named your daughter Emma... after me?"

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Emma's name does come from you, but—"

I didn't let him finish. Something broke inside me—a wall I'd built to protect myself from further pain. In that moment, I wasn't Morgan Phoenix, the woman bent on revenge. I wasn't even Morgan Reynolds, Alexander's wife. I was Emma Wallace again, a little girl who missed her big brother.

Before I could overthink it, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. For a heartbeat, Liam remained frozen, probably as shocked by my action as I was. Then his arms came around me, strong and protective, just like when we were kids.

Home, a voice whispered in my mind. This is what home feels like.

When I finally pulled away, I had to blink back tears. I cleared my throat awkwardly, embarrassed by my display of emotion. Prison had taught me that vulnerability was dangerous, but some part of me knew this connection was necessary—not just for my revenge, but for my healing.

"Just because I acknowledge you as my brother doesn't mean you're off the hook for abandoning Lilith," I said firmly, rebuilding some of my walls but leaving a small window open. "You still can't take Emma away."

"Sorry to interrupt but... is this gentleman bothering you?" Ethan's voice came from behind me, cutting through the moment.

I turned to him with a smile. "It's okay. He's just leaving."

Back in Ethan's Bentley, with Emma safely buckled in the child seat, I felt a strange mix of emotions about the encounter with Liam. My thoughts were interrupted when Ethan spoke.

"Speaking of our arrangement," he said, reaching into his briefcase on the passenger seat and pulling out a black invitation card with gold edges. "I have something for you."

"What's this? CA?" I asked curiously, noting the gold-embossed "Cedars Arts" on the front.

"The Montgomerys donated your mother's necklace for a charity auction," Ethan explained, his voice carrying an edge of satisfaction. "And what you're holding is an invitation to one of the most exclusive charity galas in Los Angeles. Next Friday at the Getty Center."

I gripped the card tightly, feeling rage simmer beneath my calm exterior. My mother's necklace. The one thing I had left of her, and they were auctioning it off like some trinket.

"I'll be there," I said, my voice cold with determination.