Chapter 57 The Announcement
Liam’s POV
The ballroom glittered. Crystal chandeliers bathed the room in warm light, casting reflections across polished marble floors. Men in tuxedos clinked champagne glasses with women draped in designer gowns, laughter echoing under the music of a live quartet. The Alcaraz’s Group gala dinner was, by all standards, a grand success.
But I stood near the balcony doors, swirling untouched champagne in my glass, wishing I were anywhere else.
My father was speaking to board members across the room, flashing his trademark smile, while socialites tried to catch my eye with coy glances and perfectly practiced hellos.
I nodded politely. Smiled when expected. But none of it reached my eyes. I glanced down at my phone.
No message from Mia yet.
Not that she needed to message me. I told her not to wait up. But I still hoped for something. A simple “be safe.” A blurry selfie from the restaurant. Anything to bridge the distance.
Instead, I scrolled to the photo I had taken of her earlier that afternoon. Her eyes crinkled from laughing, hair tied back in a loose ponytail, the city sun glowing against her skin.
God, I missed her.
I stepped out onto the balcony for air, escaping the heat of champagne breath and polite deceit.
The city stretched beneath me, glamorous and endless, but it felt hollow tonight. Every sound, every conversation behind me blurred into static. I leaned on the railing, loosening my tie, remembering the way Mia smiled when she said she’d picture me in a suit.
I checked my phone again. Still nothing.
But then it buzzed. A photo. Blurry. Mia in her apron, grinning sheepishly beside a tray of lemon pies.
MIA: I know this isn’t a sparkly dress… but I figured you’d want a picture too.
MIA: I miss you.
My heart twisted in the most tender way. I stared at her message, my fingers tightening around the phone.
I typed back.
LIAM: You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen all night.
LIAM: Come to think of it… you’re the only thing I want to see.
I hesitated before sending one more.
LIAM: I love you.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and looked up at the stars above the city.
The party behind me continued, glasses clinking, people talking, lives playing out like a scene from a movie.
But for me? The real world was back in that small apartment. Tired, maybe. Busy, definitely. But glowing with a kind of warmth this ballroom could never offer.
And I knew, without a doubt, that my heart belonged there with her. I had been smiling just moments ago.
I was still replaying Mia’s voice in my head, her laughter etched into my chest like sunlight warming cold stone. For a while, the polished crowd and golden chandeliers blurred around me. I felt untouchable. Weightless.
Until I saw Stacy Montemayor.
She was standing at the marble staircase, draped in a rose gold gown that shimmered like fire under the chandeliers. Her eyes found me instantly, wide, gleaming, hungry. As if she were finally laying claim to what had always been promised to her.
Before I could retreat, a familiar voice rang out.
“There you are, son!”
My mother looked regal and composed. She was dressed to impress the crowd, as always. Her pearls glittered under the lights, but it was her tone, cool and commanding, that made my stomach twist.
I gave her a stiff nod. “Mother. Stacy.”
“Hi, Liam,” Stacy greeted, her voice sickly sweet as she quickly linked her arm with mine like she had every right to. Like I was already hers.
I went still as my jaw clenched.
“Hi,” I returned curtly, my voice sharp enough to cut.
My mother raised an eyebrow but said nothing at first. Then, her voice dropped, coated in a false softness as she leaned in.
“Liam, you are betrothed to Stacy. It’s time you started acting like it. Why don’t you dance with her? Let the world see what’s to come.”
The word betrothed rang in my head like a warning bell. Mia was not even part of their plans. My love meant nothing to them. They had already decided my future, and I was expected to accept it.
I felt Stacy tug gently on my arm, guiding me toward the grand dance floor as the orchestra began a slow, sweeping waltz. All around us, glittering guests watched with smiles, waiting. I wanted to run. To tear my arm away and leave.
But the ballroom was full. The press cameras were flashing. And I couldn’t humiliate my family. Not tonight.
So I swallowed the ache, straightened my back, and extended my hand. We danced.
Tracy was graceful, polished, perfectly rehearsed, but my mind wasn’t on her.
It was on Mia. On the way her laugh snuck out when she tried to hide it. The warmth of her hands. The fire in her eyes when she stood her ground. The way she made me feel like myself, not the heir. Not the son. Just Liam.
This wasn’t a dance, for me, it was a funeral march.
Tracy leaned in, her breath brushing my cheek. “You don’t have to look so miserable, Liam,” she whispered, voice dipped in sugar. “You’ve known about this for years.”
I didn’t reply. I could not. Because in the next moment, the music stopped, suddenly and abruptly, and a hush swept over the room like a silent storm.
Then, all eyes turned to the stage. My father stepped into the spotlight, microphone in hand, tuxedo pristine, smile wide and triumphant.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” my father began, his voice echoing through the grand hall. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence tonight. Before we continue with the festivities, my wife and I have an announcement to make.”
The moment he said those words, my blood turned cold. A heavy fear settled in my chest, and I already knew what was coming.
No. Please, no.
My father’s smile deepened, proud and unstoppable, like this was the happiest moment of his life. “We are proud to formally announce the betrothal of our son, Liam Alcaraz, to the elegant and beautiful Stacy Montayor.”
The ballroom exploded with excitement. Guests cheered loudly, applauded, and flashed bright smiles as cameras lit up the room. Voices rose from every corner, shouting congratulations like it was a fairytale ending.
Stacy turned toward the crowd with a glowing smile, waving like a queen while her fingers held onto my arm a little too tightly, as if she already owned me.
And in that moment, my world stopped spinning.
Because somewhere far from this hall full of applause and lies, Mia was waiting, believing in me, believing in us.
She was waiting for a boy who had whispered he loved her. Who had kissed her like she was his whole world. Who had promised her she wasn’t just a secret.
And now, the world thought I belonged to someone else.
My fists trembled at my sides. My chest ached with something close to grief.
This wasn’t mere betrayal. It was heartbreak wearing the mask of tradition, a silent war between what was expected of me and what my heart wanted.
For the first time, I feared love might not be enough.