Chapter 193 Chapter 193 Goodnight
I spend an embarrassing amount of time staring at my closet.
Too dressy and it looks like I’m trying.
Too casual and I look like I gave up on life after divorce.
The fact that I care at all irritates me.
I finally settle on dark jeans and a cashmere cream sweater that hangs off one shoulder just enough to feel feminine without looking desperate. My hair falls loose down my back, makeup light, jewelry minimal.
Dinner.
That’s all this is.
Not a date.
Definitely not a fucking date.
“Mama!”
Kat bursts into my bedroom first, Cat right behind her. They’re already in matching pajamas despite it barely being six o’clock.
“Is the soccer man coming?” Cat asks excitedly.
I freeze halfway through putting on mascara.
Wonderful.
“His name is Liam,” Constantine says from my doorway, already looking disgustingly amused with me.
Eleven years old and already acts like he pays taxes.
“You invited him?” he asks.
“It’s dinner,” I say carefully.
“With the famous guy?” Kat asks.
“Yes.”
“The hot famous guy?” Constantine adds.
“CONSTANTINE.”
He grins exactly like Ivan used to when he knew he was being irritating on purpose.
The doorbell rings before I can threaten his entire existence.
All three kids sprint out of my room like tiny maniacs.
“Walk!” I yell after them.
No one listens.
I take one deep breath before heading downstairs.
Nancy opens the door before I can reach it.
And there he is.
Liam Devereux somehow looks even better standing inside my penthouse than he did at the gallery. Dark jeans, fitted black sweater, expensive watch, dark curls slightly messy like he ran his hands through them on purpose before arriving.
He’s holding flowers.
And a soccer ball.
Oh for fuck’s sake.
The girls instantly attack him.
“You’re really famous,” Kat announces.
“Thank you?” Liam laughs.
Cat points dramatically at the soccer ball. “That’s for Constantine.”
Liam kneels slightly. “Very observant.”
Constantine walks into the foyer trying so hard to look cool and unimpressed.
Fails immediately.
“Those are limited edition,” he blurts.
Liam grins. “Good eye.”
I lean against the staircase watching the entire scene unfold, oddly thrown by how natural Liam looks around my children.
No hesitation.
No discomfort.
No fake charm either.
He actually seems relaxed.
Which honestly makes him more dangerous.
His eyes lift and land on mine.
Everything shifts.
The warmth in his expression changes into something heavier. Slower.
Appreciative.
“You look beautiful,” he says softly.
Heat climbs up my neck instantly and I hate it.
“Come inside before my children adopt you.”
“Too late,” Kat says, already holding his hand.
Traitor.
Dinner is simple because I refused to stress over this. Pasta, salad, garlic bread, wine for the adults.
Liam somehow fits into the chaos effortlessly.
The girls climb all over him within ten minutes.
Constantine tries acting mature until Liam starts talking soccer seriously with him. Then suddenly my son is talking a mile a minute about formations, training drills, and his favorite Barça goals.
I stand near the kitchen island refilling wine while watching them.
And it does something uncomfortable to me.
Liam looks over at me mid-conversation.
He catches me staring.
His mouth curves slowly.
Fuck.
“Mama makes the best food,” Cat tells him.
“Sometimes.”
“She does, all the time,” Constantine says immediately.
Liam laughs, deep and warm. “Good to know.”
“Oh my God, don’t encourage them.”
“I’m gathering valuable information.”
His eyes stay on me too long after saying it.
The tension slides beneath my skin instantly.
Dangerous.
Easy.
Flirting with Liam feels too easy.
The girls eventually disappear upstairs after Nancy bribes them with a movie and popcorn. Constantine lingers longer, suspicious little genius that he is.
“You play tomorrow?” he asks Liam.
“Champions League in three days.”
Constantine nods seriously. “You should score twice.”
“I’ll do my best.”
My son studies him for another second before looking at me.
Then Liam.
Then me again.
“I’m watching you,” he says finally before walking upstairs.
Liam bursts out laughing the second Constantine disappears.
“Oh my God,” I groan, covering my face.
“I like him.”
“He interrogates every man that talks to me.”
“He gets that from his father?”
The question shifts the mood immediately.
I grab my wine glass and lean against the counter.
“Unfortunately.”
Liam watches me quietly for a second. “You still love him.”
Straight to the throat.
I look down at my wine.
“That obvious?”
“Yes.”
I laugh softly without humor. “That’s embarrassing.”
“It’s human.”
I finally look at him again.
Most men would’ve used this moment to insult Ivan.
To push.
To take advantage.
Liam doesn’t.
“He hurt you badly,” he says quietly instead.
I swallow hard.
“He destroyed me.”
The words slip out before I can stop them.
Silence settles between us.
Heavy but not uncomfortable.
Liam steps closer slowly, carefully, like he knows I might bolt.
“You know what I think?” he asks softly.
“What?”
“I think he got comfortable being loved by you.” His eyes stay locked on mine. “Men like that don’t realize what they have until someone else sees it too.”
The air leaves my lungs.
Because Ivan saw Liam seeing me.
And it rattled him.
“You barely know me,” I whisper.
“I know enough.”
His hand settles lightly against the marble counter beside my hip.
Not touching me.
Almost worse.
“I know you hide when you’re overwhelmed.”
I blink.
“I know you pretend to be colder than you are.”
His voice drops lower.
“And I know you look at everyone like you’re waiting for them to disappoint you.”
The tension turns unbearable.
“Liam—”
“I’m not trying to sleep with you tonight.”
That shocks an actual laugh out of me.
“You say that like I assumed you were.”
“You did.”
He smiles slightly.
Cocky asshole.
“But I meant what I said earlier. I want to know you.”
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth before lifting again.
“And I think that scares you more than if I just wanted sex.”
Unfortunately.
He’s right.
A loud ringtone suddenly cuts through the moment.
My stomach drops instantly seeing Ivan’s name across my screen.
Liam notices immediately.
“You can answer it.”
I hesitate before pressing accept.
“What?” I answer.
“Are the kids asleep?” Ivan asks.
“Yes.”
A pause.
Then quieter:
“Is he there?”
Of course that’s his first question.
I close my eyes briefly. “Maybe.”
Silence crackles through the line.
“Are you going to fuck him?”
The audacity almost makes me laugh.
“That is not your business anymore.”
Liam looks away politely, giving me privacy he absolutely can still hear through the phone.
Ivan exhales sharply. “Elena…”
“Goodnight, Ivan.” My voice hardens.
Another silence.
Then softer:
“Goodnight, dushichka.”
I hate when he calls me that now, it only reminds me of the first time he did it. The love that was there until he held it in his filthy hands.
I look up instinctively.
Straight at Liam.
At the warmth in his green eyes.
At the patience.
The interest.
The chemistry burning quietly between us.
And for the first time in a very long time, I feel something dangerous unfolding.
Not devastation.
Not grief.
Possibility.