Chapter 189

Liam leaned slightly on Mondo’s shoulder, his steps uneven. Meanwhile, Izzy wrapped her arm around his waist, steadying him as they led him into the house.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” Mondo muttered.

“He’s solid muscle,” Izzy replied, adjusting her grip as they reached the living room. She never thought she’d have to drag a drunk Liam home.

“Right,” Mondo grunted. “Next time he gets drunk at his own launch party, I’m letting someone else carry him.”

Liam said nothing. His head lolled, his eyes half-closed, but he remained barely conscious.

“Let’s get him to the bedroom,” Izzy said.

With Mondo’s help, they guided Liam down the hall and into the master bedroom. He collapsed onto the mattress with a heavy thud, his shoes still on, shirt untucked, and blazer crumpled beneath him.

Mondo exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “You sure you’ve got it from here?”

Izzy nodded. “Yeah. Go home. You’ve done enough.”

“Text me if you need backup,” he said, already leaving.

“Right… that thing I told you. Can you please find out what happened?” Izzy asked.

“Will do.”

As soon as she heard the front door close, Izzy turned to the now fully unconscious Liam.

“Of course,” she muttered, tugging off his blazer. “You sleep now after making everyone babysit you.”

She tossed the blazer aside and loosened his tie. After a few tugs, she removed his shoes and socks. He didn’t stir. She sighed. “I should probably clean you up.”

But first, soup.

Izzy moved to the kitchen, tying up her hair as she opened the fridge. She quickly gathered ingredients—broth, garlic, green onions, soft tofu, and spices Liam had recommended for hangovers. “Strong flavors. Low oil. Warm. No sugar.” She remembered it clearly. Liam had mentioned jujubes, but she didn’t have any, so this would do.

She set a pot on the stove, working quietly. Simmering would take time, giving her a chance to clean him up.

When she returned to the bedroom, Liam was sprawled across the bed, one arm over his eyes. She sat down and began unbuttoning his shirt, careful not to wake him. Once it was off, she wiped him down—his neck, arms, and face—with a warm cloth. He didn’t stir. His breathing was slow and even.

Izzy stared at him, towel in hand. His brows were relaxed, the lines on his forehead softened. Vulnerable. It felt strange seeing him like this.

She cleaned him as best she could, then pulled a blanket over him. The room was quiet except for the faint bubbling from the kitchen.

Chapter 188

Liam didn’t look away.

“I wonder,” Olivier continued, “how she’d react if she found out. About the pieces you moved. The people you paid off. How you kept her in the dark to get exactly what you wanted.”

Liam smiled, small and sharp. “Try it. We’ll see.”

Olivier narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat?”

“No,” Liam said simply. “Just a fact. I am wondering how you are able to prove these allegations without looking like a fool.”

Inwardly, he wasn’t shaken. He wasn’t the ten-year-old boy who lost sleep over his father’s moods, or the teenager who flinched at every demand. He knew better now.

Olivier hated him, not because Liam had disappointed him, but because he had always resisted. Even as a child, Liam never obeyed blindly. He asked questions, made different choices, and refused to yield under pressure. Olivier saw this as defiance.

And defiance was unforgivable.

“You think you’re in control now,” Olivier said, stepping closer. “Was it because you now have your company? Your name? Your marriage?” Olivier scoffed. “Let’s make this simple, Liam. You either start listening to me—or I tell her what you did.”

Liam didn’t speak.

“I tell her everything,” Olivier said. “What you did. What you covered. How you made sure she found out about Calen and Monica in the worst way possible. And when I do, she’ll leave.”

He tapped his knuckles against the desk. “And then you’ll be alone. All that work, all that planning, and it’ll be gone.”

Liam said nothing. He didn’t flinch or nod. He simply stared at his father.

Olivier took a breath and stepped closer.

“I’ll tell her about Amalia, too,” he said. “About how you fed her debts. How you made sure she owed more money to those backdoor lenders. You knew she would gamble. You let it happen. Then you waited. Until she pawned Isabella’s properties to escape it.”

Liam’s expression didn’t change.

“All that pressure,” Olivier continued. “You designed it. You created it. So Isabella would be forced to carry it. You wanted her desperate. You wanted her vulnerable. You wanted to be the only one who could help. You wanted to be her hero.”

He didn’t stop there.

“And that mess with the Weiss Foundation? That sudden leak about misused funds, that convenient timing right when Calen Weiss was starting to rebuild? That was you too. You exposed it. You wanted to shake the board. Undermine the man, make him look like a failure. It worked.”

Olivier’s gaze didn’t leave his son.

“You really thought no one would trace it back. You thought it was buried deep enough, shuffled through offshore filters, a few shell names here and there. And you were right. No one found out.”

He smiled, briefly.

“Except me.”

Liam remained still.

“I know you, Liam. You’re calculated. Methodical. Ruthless when you want to be. You’re just like me. That’s why I see it. That’s why no one else does.”

He tapped the desk once more.

“So go ahead. Stay quiet. Pretend you’re the hero in this. But know this—I can ruin you with the truth. All it takes is one conversation. And she’ll leave.”

Olivier straightened his sleeves, then scanned the office before speaking.

“You’d better start answering my calls, Liam. I don’t care what excuse you think you have. When I call, you respond. You don’t ignore me. You don’t screen my number. You pick up. Understood?”

Liam didn’t reply.

“And another thing,” Olivier went on, stepping toward the desk. “It’s time you made an effort to see your mother. And your brother. You’ve been conveniently unavailable long enough. I’m done playing along with your distance. You want to cut me off? Fine. But I won’t let you isolate the rest of the family just because you’re holding a grudge.”

He stopped in front of the desk again.

When Liam maintained his silence, Olivier added, “If you keep pushing me, I will leave you with nothing. No inheritance. No name. No wife. And I will enjoy every second of watching it happen.”

Liam’s fingers curled slightly against the desk’s edge. His gaze stayed locked on Olivier, unmoved. This was the real face of the man he once called his father. A ruthless waste trying to be vindictive because a woman challenged him. Pathetic!

Olivier exhaled, then turned without waiting for a response. He walked toward the door, pausing just before opening it.

“Enjoy your little launch party tonight. Smile for the cameras. Hold her hand. Pretend you’re the man she thinks you are. But remember this—”

He glanced over his shoulder.

“One word from me, and it all burns.”

Then he opened the door and left.

Liam didn’t move. Not for a long moment. The silence that followed was deafening.

Lucky Draw