Chapter 58

Chapter 58
Liam's POV

No. Impossible. Victor Sterling couldn't be insane. He was one of the coldest, most calculating people in this family. Everything he did had a purpose. So what was his purpose? To humiliate me? To get revenge on Edwin? Or—

I didn't understand. I couldn't make sense of it.

What I found even harder to accept was Elise's reaction.

When had she met my uncle? Did she know who he was? Did she understand what this relationship meant—if the family found out, if the church knew, if the media got wind of it—this was a scandal ten times worse than refusing an arranged marriage! The Sterling family would never let it stand. They would use every means at their disposal to tear them apart. They might even do something far worse to Elise.

But she chose him.

Right in front of me. Right when I was begging her to give me a chance. She walked toward another man. She said, "We're already over."

Over.

I chewed on those two words in my mind, like a stone I couldn't swallow no matter how hard I tried.

The glass was empty. I raised my hand to signal the bartender for another.

"Sir, you look—"

"Pour."

The bartender shut his mouth.

I leaned against the bar, my vision slightly blurred. The lights in the bar were dim, so dim I couldn't make out what people in the corners were doing. The air was thick with the smell of alcohol, sweat, and some cheap perfume. Someone was laughing loudly. Someone was arguing. Someone was singing off-key. This was a chaotic, filthy place full of losers.

And I sat among them.

The heir to the Sterling family. Tonight, no different from a drunk.

A commotion came from the direction of the entrance. Someone was arguing with security. Then footsteps—the sound of high heels on the floor, hurried, unsteady, as if someone had run a long way to get here.

I didn't turn around.

"Liam."

A woman's voice.

I turned my head.

Anna Miller stood three steps away from me. Her hair was disheveled, her makeup smudged, her eyes red, and she was dragging a suitcase—yes, a suitcase. A pink suitcase in this dump of a bar.

She looked terrible.

"What are you doing here?" My voice was colder than I'd expected. "If you're here to plead Elise's case, you can leave."

Anna shook her head.

Her lips moved as if organizing her words. Then she took a deep breath and said something I never expected:

"I saw her with that man."

My hand froze. The glass was halfway to my lips, suspended in mid-air.

"What did you say?"

"Tonight. Right at my house—right at our doorstep." Anna's voice was trembling, but every word was clear. "I saw it with my own eyes. She was in the back seat of that car. Kissing a man."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What kind of man?"

"I didn't recognize him. But—" Anna paused, as if recalling the scene. "Not too old. Thirties maybe? Very refined features, looked very wealthy. Strong presence. The car was a black Maybach, big, expensive."

Maybach.

My stomach suddenly tightened.

"Are you sure it was her?"

"Of course I'm sure! She's my cousin—I've known her for nineteen years!" Anna's voice suddenly rose, carrying a nearly hysterical emotion. "And it wasn't just kissing! That man—when he was kissing her, she was smiling! That kind of smile, you understand? Not forced, not reluctant—she was willing! She was happy!"

A few people nearby turned to look at us. I didn't care.

"What else did you see?"

"Nothing more. The car drove away quickly." Anna stared at me, something complex burning in her eyes—anger, jealousy, and an indescribable satisfaction. "But that's enough, isn't it? You know who I'm talking about."

I knew.

Maybach. Thirties. Strong presence.

Victor.

I slammed the glass onto the floor.

The sound of shattering glass exploded through the bar. Liquor splashed everywhere, fragments flying in all directions. The bartender cried out. The drunk next to me was startled awake, groggily lifting his head.

I ignored everyone.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. The screen lit up, illuminating what must have been an ugly expression on my face. My finger swiped through the contacts, finding that name—Elise.

Dial.

The waiting tone rang in my ear.

Ring—

Ring—

Ring—

Answer. Or don't answer. Or turn off. Or block me.

I didn't care. I just needed to hear her voice. I needed to ask her why. I needed to hear her tell me with her own lips that none of this was real.

---

Elise's POV

Victor brought me to the place where we first met—that mysterious, dark building hidden among dirty, chaotic streets.

Stepping inside again, I still felt somewhat nervous.

The place was cold and quiet. The Italian-style décor had sharp lines and luxurious materials, leaving large expanses of space that seemed somewhat empty.

The moment we entered, Victor's body pressed against mine.

The cool cedar scent couldn't mask his fervent body heat. Victor pushed me against the cabinet in the entryway, his body pressing forward without question.

His height of over 6.2 feet was utterly oppressive. I lifted my head, my gaze meeting his. I saw the pale blue of his eyes ringed with a faint red stained by desire.

This was predictable.

When he declared in front of Liam that he wanted to be with me, I should have anticipated facing such a scene again.

Besides, the person who seduced him in the first place was me.

But I still had to admit that I had vastly underestimated Victor's danger.

One hand gripped my neck, his thumb gently caressing my lips.

"Move in here, hmm?"

I didn't think that trailing sound was asking for my consent—it was more like a low moan under suppressed desire.

His scorching body temperature, the rapid heartbeat from his chest, and the hard object pressing firmly against my lower abdomen all showed that he was in a state of extreme desire.

But his eyes remained deep, making it impossible to see what he was thinking. Similarly, his actions maintained absolute restraint.

Domineering, but not excessive.

This was where Victor differed from Liam.

Desire, emotion—neither was enough to destroy his rationality. He always controlled everything.

I suddenly thought of the last time.

The first time I came to see him.

I had my own agenda then. I wanted to borrow the power of this demon, famous in the underground world, to escape Benjamin and even make myself more than an insignificant invisible person in the Sterling family.

Things had progressed more smoothly than I'd anticipated.

So smoothly that only now did I realize—given Victor's personality, how could he have allowed me to use him so easily?

"Victor..." My voice carried a trace of trembling. "You for me... no, everything you've done, is it really just because I'm your tattoo artist?"