The next morning, the skyline of New York seemed colder than usual, as if the city itself could sense the war that raged inside Amelia Hale.
She stood by the window of her office, staring down at the people who moved like ants below, oblivious to the turmoil in her world. The documents she had uncovered still haunted her. Every word. Every signature. Every whisper of betrayal.
And then there was Liam.
Her breath caught as she thought about him—not just the man she'd kissed, not just her enigmatic boss, but the architect of secrets. A man who claimed to care while hiding weapons behind his smile. A man who said he wanted her—but never once trusted her with the truth.
A soft knock broke the silence.
She turned to see Liam standing in the doorway, holding two coffees. He looked… different. Not in his usual composed armor of black suits and closed-off expression, but something raw, almost hesitant.
"I figured we could use something warm," he said.
Amelia didn't move. "You didn't need to come."
He stepped inside anyway. "I wanted to."
She crossed her arms, watching him with guarded eyes. "What are you doing, Liam?"
He set one coffee on her desk, then looked at her, serious. "I'm trying."
"To manipulate me again?" she asked, voice hard.
"No," he said quickly. "To be honest this time."
Amelia gave a dry laugh. "You've said that before."
"I know." His voice lowered. "And I deserved that."
There was a beat of silence between them—thick, heavy, laced with all the things they had left unsaid.
"I saw everything," she finally said. "The contracts, the emails. The recordings. My father might not be clean, but you—" she broke off. "You're not either."
He nodded slowly. "You're right."
That surprised her. For once, no denial. No calculated excuse.
"I did what I thought I had to," Liam said. "At first, it was about revenge. I wanted to destroy Marcus for what he did to my family. I wanted to see him lose everything."
"And me?" she asked quietly.
His jaw tightened. "You were never supposed to be part of it. But the moment I saw you—really saw you—everything changed."
She turned away, trying to maintain the distance between them. "Don't say things just to make me stay."
He moved closer, his voice soft. "I'm not. I came here today not to win you over with another game, but to show you something."
He pulled a small, worn envelope from his jacket and handed it to her.
She hesitated before taking it. The handwriting was old-fashioned, familiar. Her father's.
"What is this?"
"It's a letter he wrote. One he never sent. I got it years ago through a mutual contact. I never planned to show you, but after what you found out, I figured… maybe you deserve it."
Her fingers trembled as she opened the envelope.
Inside, her father's words spilled out in messy ink:
Amelia,
If you're reading this, then you've somehow become entangled in the mess I tried so hard to keep from you. I made decisions I regret. I trusted people I shouldn't have, and hurt others I shouldn't have hated.
Liam Blackthorne wasn't always my enemy. Once, he was the closest thing I had to a friend in this world. We built something together. We believed in something.
But ambition is a dangerous thing, especially when mixed with pride. We both made choices that ruined lives—including yours, if I'm being honest.
I never wanted you to carry the weight of my sins. But if you're reading this, then maybe the only way forward is through the truth. Just know—I always loved you. And I'm sorry.
The letter blurred through her tears.
She looked up, lips trembling. "Why are you giving me this now?"
"Because I know I've lost your trust," Liam said, stepping back. "And maybe I don't deserve a second chance. But I want to be the man who earns it."
Amelia didn't answer. Her heart was cracking open with every word, every confession. But a part of her still screamed in warning.
"You say you want to earn my trust. But how can I believe that? You always have a motive, Liam. Every time I think you're sincere, you pull me deeper into your games."
He looked at her, expression unreadable.
And then, in a quiet voice, he said, "What if the game is over?"
Her breath caught.
"What?"
"I want out," he continued. "Out of the war with your father. Out of the cycle of revenge. I've built empires, Amelia. But none of it means anything if it costs me you."
For a moment, she didn't move. Didn't speak.
Because those words… they sounded like love.
But love, as she'd come to learn, was complicated. Messy. Twisted.
"You can't just walk away from everything," she said. "It's not that easy."
"No," he agreed. "But maybe we can walk away from the parts that no longer serve us."
She stared at him. For once, Liam Blackthorne didn't look like a CEO or a villain or a puppeteer pulling strings.
He looked like a man—tired, desperate, and just a little bit broken.
And somehow, that scared her more than anything else.
"Let me prove it to you," he said.
She took a shaky breath. "How?"
"Tonight. Dinner. No suits. No strategies. Just me. Just you."
Amelia hesitated.
Everything in her told her to say no—to run. To protect what little remained of her stability.
But a deeper part of her, the part that had once believed in fairy tales and second chances, whispered:
What if he's telling the truth?
She nodded slowly. "One dinner. That's all."
His lips curved just slightly. "I'll take it."
He turned and walked out, leaving the office filled with the scent of coffee and something more dangerous.
Hope.
But Amelia didn't let herself fall just yet.
Because with Liam Blackthorne, even hope could be a carefully crafted illusion.
And tonight, she would find out whether he was offering love…Or another beautiful lie.