Chapter 38 The midnight blue
Chapter 38: The Midnight Blue (Liam’s POV)
I had a drink in my hand, but I couldn't taste it.
I was standing by the glass doors of the lake house, nodding along to some garbage a hockey scout was saying about my "explosive first step." Usually, I lived for this. I loved being the center of attention, the golden boy with the bright future. But tonight, every nerve in my body was on edge.
I kept looking at the door.
"Yeah, Arthur, I’ll keep that in mind," I muttered, not even sure if I was talking to the right person.
Then, the room went quiet. Not all at once, but in a wave that started at the entrance and rolled toward the back. I turned my head, expecting to see some celebrity or a rival team captain.
It was Elena.
The air left my lungs as if I’d been body-checked into the boards. She wasn't wearing the baggy sweaters or the "tutor" trousers. She was in a dress the color of the deep lake outside—midnight blue. It hugged her curves in a way that made my mouth go dry. Her hair was down, falling in dark waves over her shoulders, and her makeup made her eyes look sharp, cold, and dangerously beautiful.
She didn't look like a scholarship student. She looked like a queen who had come to reclaim a stolen throne.
"Holy hell," Jax whispered next to me, his drink pausing halfway to his mouth. "Is that the Ghost? Since when does she look like that?"
I didn't answer him. I couldn't. I just watched her. She walked with her head held high, the thump-click of her black cane sounding like a drumbeat. She didn't look intimidated. She looked... bored. Like we were all beneath her.
"Liam? Are you listening?" Chloe’s voice was sharp.
I felt her hand tighten on my arm, her long nails digging into my skin through my shirt. She was glaring at Elena with a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.
"I’m listening," I lied, my eyes still glued to Elena as she moved toward the bar.
"She looks ridiculous," Chloe hissed. "She’s trying too hard. Everyone is laughing at her."
But nobody was laughing. They were staring. The guys were leaning in, whispering to each other, their eyes roaming over Elena with a hunger that made my blood boil. I felt a sudden, violent urge to walk over there and wrap my coat around her. To hide her from them. To remind them that she was mine to deal with.
"I need to go check on the drinks," I said, peeling Chloe’s hand off my arm.
"Liam! Don't you dare—"
I didn't wait for her to finish. I moved through the crowd, my heart hammering against my ribs. I caught up to Elena just as she reached the edge of the dance floor. I grabbed her elbow, and the contact felt like a static shock.
"You actually came," I rasped. My voice sounded like I’d been swallowing sand.
She didn't even flinch. She turned to me, her expression as cold as a frozen pond. "Chloe invited me, remember? And your father wanted me to fix the 'image problem.' I’m just being a good guest, Liam."
Up close, she was even more devastating. The dress showed the delicate line of her collarbone, and the scent of her—that rain-on-pavement smell—was driving me insane.
"You look..." I stopped. I wanted to tell her she looked beautiful. I wanted to tell her she was the only thing in this room worth looking at. But the "King" in me wouldn't let the words out. "You shouldn't be here, Elena. This isn't the library. These people aren't your friends."
"I don't have friends in this zip code, Liam," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I have enemies and I have targets. Which one are you tonight?"
She stepped closer, and I could feel the heat radiating off her. The music was thumping in the background, a heavy, rhythmic bass that matched the pounding in my head.
"I'm the guy trying to make sure you don't get hurt," I hissed, leaning in so only she could hear me. "Jax and the guys are already five drinks in. They’ve been talking about you all day. Just... stay near me."
Elena let out a laugh—a soft, mocking sound that cut deeper than any insult. "Near you? So you can tell them I'm a 'side of dirt' when they get too close? No thank you, Captain. I’ve had enough of your protection for one lifetime."
"Elena, I'm serious. This isn't a game."
"It's been a game since the moment your car hit me," she snapped. Her eyes were flashing with fire now, the cold mask breaking for just a second. "The only difference is, I’m finally playing to win."
She pulled her arm away and pushed past me. I stood there, stunned, watching her walk away. Every guy she passed turned their head. I saw Jax watching her with a predatory grin, and I felt a surge of rage so intense I had to clench my fists to keep from swinging at him.
"She's a tutor," I whispered to myself, trying to ground my brain. "She’s a scholarship girl. She’s nothing."
But I was lying.
I walked over to the bar and downed a shot of whatever was sitting there. It burned, but not as much as the image of her in that blue dress.
I looked across the room and saw Chloe watching me, her face twisted in a mask of jealousy. Then I saw my father, Marcus, standing on the balcony above, his eyes fixed on Elena with a cold, calculating gaze.
I was caught in the middle. My family, my future, and the girl who was currently burning my world down just by walking through a room.
I followed her. I didn't care if it looked bad. I didn't care if Chloe screamed. I followed the thump-click of that cane up the stairs, my mind a mess of desire and denial.
I found her in the hallway near the private study. She was leaning against the wall, her eyes closed, taking a deep breath. She looked vulnerable for the first time all night.
"Elena," I said softly.
She opened her eyes, and before she could say a word, I stepped into her space. I pinned her against the wall, my hands on either side of her head. The music from downstairs was a dull roar now.
"What do you want, Liam?" she whispered, her breath hitching.
"I want you to tell me why you're doing this," I growled, my face inches from hers. "Why you're wearing that dress. Why you're looking at me like you want to kill me one second and kiss me the next."
"I don't want to kiss you," she lied. Her eyes were fixed on my mouth.
"Liar," I breathed.
I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. I could feel her whole body shudder against mine. I was the Playboy. I knew the moves. But with her, it didn't feel like a move. It felt like I was losing a war I didn't even know I was fighting.
"You're a Vance," she whispered, her hands coming up to rest on my chest. "You break things, Liam. That’s all you do."
"Then let me break this," I said, my voice dropping to a low, jagged vibrato.
I moved my hand from the wall to the small of her back, pulling her flush against me. The contact was electric. I forgot about the merger. I forgot about the hockey scouts. I forgot about the fact that my father was probably watching us.
I looked at her lips, and I knew I was done. The King was falling, and I was going to take the whole court down with me.