31

31
Liam
I raised my head from the shining diamond Alex had picked and sent to Bianca two days ago before asking for permission to go on a break.
He claimed he needed time to properly plan his proposal to his girlfriend of five years.
Of course, I had granted him permission.
I might not be the love freak, but I couldn't deny my staff happiness either. Alex was meticulous when it came to details—only he would need several days off to organize something as simple as a proposal.
In his absence, I asked Allen to take up the position until Alex returned, which he did without complaint.
But right now, that wasn't the story.
Currently, I was kneeling on one knee, staring at my supposed absent personal assistant and friend as he stretched a ring toward me. Not just any ring, but his ring.
Isn't it supposed to be for his girlfriend?
His face was flushed a deep red, his usually sharp features marred by what seemed to be a combination of alcohol and… tears?
He looked ridiculous yet composed enough that anyone standing a few feet away might not notice that he'd been drinking. Or that he'd been crying.
"You shouldn't propose to a woman without a ring, Liam."
Liam?
Did Alex just address me by my first name? He never did that, especially not in public.
Alex was definitely drunk. And very, very drunk at that.
I glanced around the room, searching for Allen, but of course, he wasn’t here. Allen despised social events.
Only Alex and Bianca usually accompanied me to these gatherings, and apparently, one of them couldn’t hold his liquor tonight.
“What are you doing?” I whispered through gritted teeth, praying the crowd’s cheers would drown out my words.
Alex didn't answer. Instead, he shoved the ring into my hand, his expression grim yet oddly determined.
The room, which had momentarily stilled, suddenly erupted into applause. I could already see it: there was no way I'd be able to correct this.
Alex staggered to his feet and nodded toward me before raising his glass in a half-hearted toast. "Good luck, buddy."
Can this idiot stop drinking already?
He turned and walked away, leaving me with a ring, a crowd expecting answers, and a very pissed-off woman glaring daggers at me from across the room.
Arlene.
Her icy stare was practically burning a hole through me. She didn't need to say a word—her eyes screamed at me to stop whatever it was I was doing.
But I wasn't about to back down, not when I had a shining ring in my hands and one kneeled to the ground.
Well, I ain't doing this with my knee to the ground.
I pushed myself up, brushed the dust from my knee, and turned toward her.
"Well," I said, loud enough for the onlookers to hear. "I obviously couldn't let someone like you go even if my child isn't growing in you, Arlene. From the moment I first saw you in Hawaii, I knew you were the one."
She stiffened.
Hawaii.
I watched her demeanor shift the moment I mentioned it—just a flicker, but enough for me to notice. It wasn't the reaction of someone reminiscing about a fond memory, or someone pretending to be.
No, it was something deeper, something darker.
It intrigued me, and I'm certainly finding out.
"Marry me, Arlene."
The applause continued, and she had no choice but to accept the ring, her lips curling into a forced smile.
I slid it onto her finger, and I noted how perfectly it fit. It was almost as if it had been made for her.
I glanced at the crowd, catching sight of Lucas, his expression a mix of anger and disbelief.
My gaze shifted to Mr. Gomez, who looked like one who would pounce on me if given the chance but was doing a better job of hiding it.
My lips twitched into a smirk as I returned my attention to Arlene. This is definitely going to be interesting.
Smiling - or better still smirking, as I wasn't one who smiled. I leaned in and pulled her into a kiss. If we were going to sell this, we needed to make it look real.
She stiffened again… I could bet she wanted so much to push me away, but she didn't.
Rather, she relaxed, offering a polite smile as we turned toward her father and stepmother, Mirela.
The smile toward her stepmother was obviously not polite. It was full of mockery.
"Arlene," Mr. Gomez said, his voice measured. "Is this truly what you want?"
Her hesitation was brief, but it was there. She nodded.
"Yes, Father. Liam is who I want."
Liam… Smooth.
My name rolled so perfectly off her tongue. It felt foreign to hear her call my name again after ten years.
And I wanted her to say it again. It made something come to life in me.
I barely suppressed a grin. Whatever situation she was in, it had to be bad for her to play along with this so willingly.
Mr. Gomez straightened, his expression unreadable. "Before we discuss wedding plans, I'd like you to come to dinner at the residence, Liam. Mirela and I will be expecting you."
"We aren't rushing anything, Dad," she protested, obviously wanting everything to end.
"You aren't rushing it, yet you're saying yes to being his wife after a few months of meeting him?" Mr. Gomez sneered. "You're coming, or I'll have this arrangement canceled."
He raised his glass, effectively ending the conversation, and declared that the party should continue.
I inclined my head slightly, watching as he excused himself. Mrs. Gomez followed quickly behind him, her gaze darting between Arlene and me with thinly veiled suspicion.
The moment they were gone, Arlene turned to me, her anger barely contained.
"You've got a lot of nerve," she hissed.
I leaned in, my tone low but teasing. "Careful, Arlene. Unless you want the crowd to suspect something, you might want to tone down the death glare."
Her jaw tightened, but she forced another smile.
"Shall we dance?" I asked, extending my hand.
Her eyes narrowed. "You can't be serious."
"Leaving right after a proposal would look suspicious, don't you think?"
She hesitated before reluctantly placing her hand in mine.
I led her to the dance floor, where we swayed to the music. Her smile was forced, but mine was genuine.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" she muttered, her hands sliding to my neck.
"Immensely," I replied, my voice laced with amusement.
As we moved, I caught sight of Kira, who was watching from the edge of the room with a knowing grin. I ignored her, focusing instead on Arlene.
After a few dances, I stopped and leaned in close.
"Shall we?"
She nodded curtly, leading me away from the crowd. "Follow me."
We ascended the staircase, her friend and assistant watching us with wide eyes. Arlene whispered something to them before beckoning me on. Once we reached her room, she shoved me inside and locked the door behind us.
"Was that necessary?" I asked, feigning innocence.
She turned to me, her composure crumbling as anger overtook her.
"That should be my question," she snapped, her voice sharp. "Was that necessary?"