Shanghai was nothing like I remembered—maybe because this time, I wasn't just a student trying to find herself. I was a woman with a secret… and a front-row seat to a man who had no idea how deeply his past was entangled with mine.
Liam Grayson.
The man whose touch still haunted my dreams. The man who unknowingly gave me Eli.
And now, I was seated beside him in a leather-trimmed private jet, pretending I hadn't once fallen apart under his body.
"Relax," Liam said, glancing at me from behind his tablet. "You look like you're going to bolt."
I pasted on a smile. "Just nervous. First overseas trip in years."
He arched a brow. "Haven't traveled much?"
"I've had other priorities."
He nodded but didn't ask. Thank God. I wasn't ready to say, Yes, I've been raising your child alone while you forgot about me.
Instead, I leaned back into the plush seat and watched the clouds blur past, wondering if fate was cruel or just chaotic.
***
Our hotel in Shanghai was a fortress of glass and chrome, the kind of place that whispered old money and corporate power. Of course, there was only one suite left.
"This is the best we can do?" Liam asked, his jaw tight as the receptionist offered a sympathetic shrug.
"I don't mind the couch," I said quickly. "Really."
He looked at me like I'd grown another head. "You're not sleeping on a couch in a hotel I'm paying for."
"You're not sleeping on the floor either."
He sighed. "We'll alternate. I'll take the couch tonight."
We stepped into the suite. One giant bed. A velvet couch. Marble bath. A tension so thick you could bottle it.
I dropped my bags and made a beeline for the minibar, pretending I didn't notice how Liam's eyes followed me like a predator.
"You're quiet," he said after a while. "Quieter than usual."
I poured myself a small whiskey. "Long day."
He walked toward me, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable. "You don't like being around me."
That made me snort. "I didn't say that."
"But you feel something."
I turned to him slowly. "You really don't remember me, do you?"
His brow furrowed. "Have we met before?"
And just like that, my heart cracked a little more.
"No," I lied. "You just remind me of someone."
He stepped closer. His scent—clean, musky, male—wrapped around me like smoke.
"Because every time I look at you," he said softly, "I feel like I'm losing my mind."
I blinked. "What?"
"I don't get distracted. I don't get rattled. But you—there's something about you that won't leave me alone."
I was drowning in his voice, his nearness, the magnetic pull I had once surrendered to so easily.
"Maybe it's just chemistry," I whispered.
"Maybe," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.
Then his mouth was on mine.
It wasn't gentle. It wasn't careful.
It was desperate.
Like a match striking old paper. Like a fuse finding flame.
He backed me against the wall, his hands tangled in my hair, his kiss demanding. Hungry. And I kissed him back like I hadn't spent the last three years trying to forget.
His hands slid down my waist, lifting me easily. I wrapped my legs around him, gasping as he pressed his hips into mine. We crashed into the bed, a tangle of breath and need.
My blouse slipped away. His mouth moved lower. Over my collarbone. Between my breasts.
"Ava," he groaned, his voice thick. "You're driving me insane."
I arched into him, body aching, heart breaking. Because I knew he wasn't remembering. He was reliving—without even knowing it.
But just as his lips found the waistband of my skirt—
A knock shattered the moment.
He froze. "Don't move."
I scrambled to fix my blouse as he opened the door.
And there she was.
Miranda.
Draped in red silk and confidence, holding a folder she clearly didn't care about.
"Oh," she said, her eyes sweeping past him to find me breathless and half-wrecked. "I hope I'm not… interrupting."
Liam's voice was steel. "What do you want?"
"I thought we could review tomorrow's investor points. But I see you're… busy." Her smile sharpened. "Nice dress, Ava. It screams 'promotion through pleasure.'"
I stood tall, smoothing my skirt. "It's called competence. You should try it sometime."
Her eyes narrowed.
Liam stepped between us. "Miranda. Now is not the time."
She handed him the folder and leaned in. "Be careful. The board is watching. And you already have a reputation."
With a smirk, she left.
The silence she left behind echoed louder than the slam of the door.
I grabbed my laptop. "I should finish the analytics run for tomorrow."
Liam didn't stop me.
He just watched me with those gray eyes—stormy, silent, and still too blind to see the truth.
***
I barely slept.
I lay awake on the couch, staring at the ceiling, haunted by what almost happened… and what already had.
In the morning, I dressed early, choosing armor over style. Black slacks. Cream blouse. No lipstick. No weakness.
The investor meeting was brutal.
Liam was his usual self—polished, commanding, impossible not to watch. I presented our AI initiative with steady hands, conscious of every breath he took beside me.
Afterward, the CEO of our potential partner firm, Chen Liu, pulled Liam aside.
"You're young for this position," he said. "Single?"
Liam hesitated. "Yes."
Chen frowned. "Our board prefers partnerships with leaders who are… stable. Grounded. Family-oriented. It affects how we project to the Asian markets."
Liam nodded tightly. "Understood."
We left the room in silence.
In the elevator, he finally spoke. "They want me married."
I turned to him. "That's ridiculous."
He studied me. "Is it?"
There was something in his eyes. A calculation. A flicker of something more.
But the doors opened before I could ask.
Back in the suite, he stood by the window, hands in his pockets.
"I need a favor," he said suddenly.
I raised a brow. "Okay…"
He turned. "A fake engagement. Just for appearances. To land the merger. Six months. I'll triple your salary. Fund your start-up idea. No strings."
My mouth went dry. "You want me to pretend to be your fiancée?"
"You're already under public eye. The chemistry's there. It wouldn't be hard to believe."
I stared at him, heart hammering.
He had no idea. No clue.
Eli. The pregnancy. The night we shared.
And now he wanted to fake a future I had already lived—in secret.
"I'll think about it," I said, voice barely above a whisper.
He stepped closer. "Say yes."
His breath was warm against my cheek.
"You said you needed this job. Let me give you more."
But at what cost?
Because saying yes might just break me.