Chapter 21 Chapter 21
Liana's Pov
The conference room door clicked shut behind Andrea like the last slam of a gavel. Her words haunted my thoughts, like a nightmare I wasn't yet far enough awake from:
If I were you,I would be wondering why someone would want to hurt me. Not who.
I sat frozen in the sleek, glass-enclosed office, heart thudding in my ears. My fingers clenched the tablet still in my lap, the one with Jonathan's report. The payment. The non-existent company. The call records. The new curiosity about my activities.
All of this had nothing to do with office gossip. Not even professional jealousy anymore.
This was designed. Thought out and very personal.
I stood up slowly, making my way down the corridor as if I were wading through water. My heels clicked softly against the marble, soundproofed by the cacophony in my head. I did not stop when Sasha screamed after me, I simply held up a hand and kept going until I hit the elevator.
I needed air. Space. Sanity.
I was at 6th street boutique supermarket, walking through aisles I did not need to be, looking at products I did not need to buy. A pouch of organic oranges. A candle with lavender in it. A ridiculously expensive pack of Italian spaghetti.
I probably looked insane in corporate and high heels, hair immaculately done but eyes scanning like prey.
I might not need these things but shopping just helps me unwind.
I paused outside the flower chiller. And that is where I saw him. Dominic.
Tall and completely composed . He reached for a bottle of bubbly water near the wine. As if nothing in his life had ever cracked. As if he hadn't once spoken vows down my skin and then vanished when things got tough.
He turned to face me, and our eyes met.
For a moment, the world stilled. The bitter fluorescent lights, the hum of refrigerated fridges, even the soft jazz playing above none of it, it did really mattered anymore.
Just him and me.
He blinked, focusing on me. "Liana."
His voice wrapped around my name like it belonged there. Like no time had passed at all.
I turned back to the flowers again, pretending interest in a bunch of wilting sunflowers.
"You okay?" he asked, stepping closer. "You look…"
"Don't," I broke in roughly, not looking at him. "Don't do that thing where you pretend to care when you may or may not be the reasonI'mgoing through what"I am going through "
A beat of silence.
“I have told you I am not" he whispered. “You just don't believe "
I laughed and spun around to face him. "Because you where in my face one minute and the next minute things got difficult.
"So it's my fault?"
I breathed deeply. "No.” I gazed at him, my throat closing. “But you could be the reason it got worser “
He did not answer. He wanted to reach, to touch, to speak something that would matter. But he did not.
Good.
………..
I purchased the candle and left everything else behind. It was absurd, to buy something that smelled like serenity when I was chaos inside. But the weight of the dense little glass container in my hand gave me something to distract myself with as I walked out to my vehicle.
I climbed into the driver's seat and permitted myself to cry.
The type of silent, scalding tears that burn without crying deep. The type that run when you have strained too hard to hold it together. I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and I spoke softly to myself.
"Why would someone want to hurt me?"
I heard Andrea's voice, once again. That smirk. That measured pause.
Why?
I opened the tablet and read back through Jonathan's report. I stared again at the dummy company name—Luxeview Consulting. The name was unmeaning to me. But something about the dates was.
I searched my emails, my call logs. My calendar.
Three days before the leak… that was the night of the foundation gala. The one where I’d been honored. The night someone had taken a photo of me smiling under the spotlight.
The post had gone viral the next morning. I’d gone from “inspirational working mother” to “reckless socialite” in twenty-four hours.
And guess who had been at that gala?
Dominic.
Sasha's voice echoed in my mind: "She's been quiet lately. Too quiet."
Andrea had been avoiding the office more, coming up with excuses not to attend meetings, retreating from board interactions. I was beginning to assume it was maternity leave, or burnout, or just her typical tendency to disappear when things got complex.
But maybe it wasn't Andrea alone.
Maybe somehow somehow, she was working for the same enemy who had been there the night I took that picture.