The elevator in the Vane Residential Wing didn't just go up; it glided. There was no mechanical shudder, no cables humming, just a silent, pressurized ascent that made my ears pop. When the doors finally slid open, I didn't step out into a hallway. I stepped directly into an architectural fever dream.
"Oh my god," I whispered, the gold pen nearly slipping from my hand.
I didn't even think. I grabbed the new, black encrypted phone from my pocket and hit the group FaceTime. Sarah and Mia picked up on the first ring, their faces already pressed against their screens.
"Lia! Did you arrive? Is it a dungeon? Are there bars on the windows?" Mia shrieked.
"Guys... look," I said, my voice breathless. I flipped the camera.
The apartment was a masterpiece of glass, white marble, and soft, recessed lighting. The living room was larger than the entire common area of our dorm building. A curved, cream-colored velvet sofa sat in the center, facing a floor-to-ceiling window that looked out over the Thames. The kitchen featured a waterfall island of rare, grey-veined stone, and the appliances looked like they belonged on a spaceship.
"IS THAT A CHANDELIER MADE OF ACTUAL CRYSTALS?" Sarah's scream was distorted by the speakers. "Lia! Flip it back! Show us the view!"
"Look at the balcony," I murmured, walking toward the glass doors. I pushed them open, and the cool evening breeze hit me, carrying the scent of the river. The terrace was massive, filled with lush, manicured greenery and a fire pit that ignited automatically as I stepped outside.
"Lia, seriously!" Mia was practically crying. "You said he was 'ordinary.' This is not ordinary. This is 'I-own-the-world' energy. Look at that pool! Is that a private lap pool on the terrace?"
"It's... it's okay," I said, trying to regain my composure. I rolled my eyes for the camera, even though my heart was hammering against my ribs. "I mean, it's a bit much, don't you think? It's cold. Too much glass. It feels like living in a fishbowl."
"A fishbowl filled with diamonds!" Sarah countered. "Show us the bedroom! I want to see the thread count on those sheets!"
I laughed, feeling a sudden surge of adrenaline. "Hold on, I want to see the edge of the terrace. I think I can see the Parliament from here."
I walked toward the glass railing, the camera shaking as I tried to show them the sprawling lights of London. "See? It's just a view. A very expensive, very high-up view. Honestly, the wind is kind of"
I turned the corner of the terrace, intended to show them the north view, but the words died in my throat.
The terrace didn't end. It connected.
A sleek, dark silhouette was leaning against the railing of the adjoining suite, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He wasn't wearing a jacket anymore. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his dark hair was slightly mussed by the wind.
Liam.
I froze. My heart did a violent somersault in my chest.
"Lia? Why did you stop? Show us the" Sarah's voice was cut off as I frantically lowered the phone, but it was too late.
Liam's lethal grey eyes snapped toward me. He didn't look surprised. He looked like he'd been waiting.
"Is the 'fishbowl' to your liking, Lia?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that carried perfectly over the wind.
I stood there, paralyzed, the phone still live in my hand. I could hear Mia whispering, "Is that him? Is that the King? Lia, turn the camera back!"
I ignored them, my face heating up with a mixture of embarrassment and fury. "You... you live right there?" I pointed to the sliding doors just twenty feet away from mine.
Liam took a slow sip of his drink, his gaze raking over me with a clinical, intense heat. "I own the top two floors, Lia. It's more efficient for my Risk Analyst to be within reach. In case of... emergencies."
"Emergencies?" I stepped closer to the partition, my temper rising. "You moved my things. You changed my phone.
And now you're telling me I'm living in the suite next to yours? This isn't efficient, Liam. It's obsessive."
Liam set his glass down on the railing and walked toward the edge of his terrace, stopping where the glass divider separated our worlds. He was so close I could smell the sandalwood and the sharp, metallic tang of the city air.
"I told you the catch, Lia," he murmured, leaning down so his face was level with mine. His eyes were dark, swirling with that 'crazy' intensity that made my breath hitch. "You belong to the schedule. And the schedule starts and ends with me."
He glanced down at the phone in my hand, which was still vibrating with muted shrieks from my friends. A slow, predatory smirk curled his lips.
"Are those the friends from the club?" he asked. "The ones who think I'm a deity?"
My jaw dropped. "You... you were listening?"
"I hear everything in my building, Lia," he whispered, his voice dropping to that rough velvet tone that made my skin tingle. "Tell them I said hello. And then hang up. We have work to do."
"I am not hanging up on my"
"Hang up, Lia," he commanded. It wasn't loud, but the sheer weight of his will made my thumb move toward the 'End' button automatically.
I cut the call, the screen going black. Silence rushed back in, broken only by the sound of the wind and the heavy, rhythmic thud of my own pulse.
"Good," Liam said, his gaze dropping to my lips for a heartbeat before snapping back to my eyes. "Now, put on something professional. The car leaves for the data center in fifteen minutes.
We're going to see exactly how much 'Risk' you can handle."
He turned and walked back into his penthouse without waiting for a reply, leaving me standing on the terrace, trembling and breathless. I looked at the beautiful, luxurious apartment behind me, and for the first time, the gold didn't sparkle. It looked like bars.
"Seriously," I whispered to the empty air, trying to find my voice. "He's just a guy. Just a rich, arrogant, terrifyingly handsome guy."
But as I headed inside to change, I knew I was lying to myself.