Madison knows something is wrong the second Liam walks into her apartment.
He's wound tight. Jaw clenched. Hands shaking slightly.
She's on her couch. Laptop open. Working on an assignment. The late afternoon sun slants through her windows, casting long shadows across the hardwood floors. Her apartment smells faintly of vanilla candles and the jasmine perfume she'd applied that morning. Everything is ordered, clean, controlled—the way she likes it.
"What happened?" she asks.
He doesn't answer. Just goes straight to her kitchen. Opens the fridge. Grabs a beer.
"Liam."
He drinks half the bottle before turning to face her.
"I talked to Avery."
Madison closes her laptop. "And?"
"And she's not backing down. If anything, she's doubling down."
"What does that mean?"
"It means she doesn't care. About consequences. About my father's career. About anything except whatever sick game she's playing."
Madison stands. Walks over to him. "What did she say?"
