Olivia simply kissed him back, surrendering to the moment. The kisses were burning, almost ferocious. They were filled with anger, desire, and something unnamed, as if each of them wanted to devour the other. Liam pulled her closer roughly, his hands sliding down to her thighs, gripping them firmly, as if reminding her who was in control. Every touch of his lips sent a shock through her body. Her heart raced wildly, mixing fury, fear, and a desperate need to feel desired. The taste of his kiss brought back everything she hated about him, and at the same time, it ignited a heat that made her weak. Between one kiss and the next, she wavered between wanting to push him away and wanting to lose herself in him. Suddenly, Liam broke the kiss. The heat of the moment dissolved into the air, abrupt and cold, leaving only silence behind. He stepped back, breathing deeply, his green eyes clouded. Olivia froze, confused, her body still trembling, her heart pounding. "Liam?" she whispered

The heavy silence after the initial provocation seemed to freeze the air. Liam stopped in front of Alex, his green eyes dark, filled with an unyielding coldness, his posture rigid and imposing. "Since when do I tell you what I do with a woman behind closed doors?" he shot back, his voice low and sharp, like a precise strike. Alex raised an eyebrow. His tone remained controlled, laced with the subtle irony lawyers use in court to disarm an opponent. "Wow, someone's in a mood…" he said calmly. "What's gotten into you?" Liam didn't answer right away. He turned his head as if ending the conversation and climbed the jet's steps with firm strides. Alex followed close behind, watching him with an analytical look, as if every movement were evidence in an invisible court case. The pilot greeted them professionally. "Good morning, gentlemen. Please take your seats. We'll be taking off shortly." They sat in opposite seats. The sound of the engines filled the cabin, a deep roar that

Olivia let out a sigh as she walked into the closet. She picked up her lingerie and started getting dressed, her voice carrying just enough for Isis to hear, heavy with bitterness. "I spent my whole life dreaming about something… and it simply didn't happen," she said, tears sliding down her face. "I think there comes a moment when reality hits in the cruelest way and shows you that fairy tales don't exist. What exists is the real world, and the choices we make." She adjusted the lingerie, forcing herself to breathe. "Sometimes those choices push us into situations we never wanted to live. And then all that's left is to keep going, one day at a time, learning not to trust people so much." She paused briefly. "And you didn't talk too much, Isis. I really was… disappointed by some people." Isis crossed her arms and replied in a playful tone. "Ma'am, forgive me, but you're way too emotional!" she said, laughing. "You need to become a blogger princess and turn everything into a meme,

Olivia didn't answer, but her crying grew stronger, her chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven waves. "Go ahead, cry," Isis whispered gently. "Let it out. Get rid of that knot that's choking you. No one here is going to judge you." She gave a small, sad smile. "And hey… you can trust me. I keep secrets better than recipes." She paused, her gaze steady. "He won't find out. If that's what you're afraid of. I just want to help you." Her voice was a rare mix of lightness and conviction. The strength of someone who had seen too much pain, balanced with the softness of someone who still believed affection could heal. Olivia cried for a long time. When she finally managed to calm down, she wiped her face with the tissue Isis handed her and spoke in a weak voice. "I know you want to help, and I'm truly grateful. But some things don't have solutions, you know? You just learn to accept them. Especially when you make choices in the heat of the moment. Without thinking about other optio

Olivia sighed, shaking her head. "Now I get your vibe. But this is dangerous," she said quietly, her tone firmer. "You get involved with people you don't even know. And if something ever goes wrong, who's going to save you? Does your boyfriend just… accept that?" Isis let out a short laugh, but her eyes stayed serious. "I know how to take care of myself, Olivia," she replied firmly. "And you know what? I'm good at this. I know how to listen. I know how to perform. Sometimes men just want to talk, can you believe that? They want someone who pretends to care. Someone who listens, especially when they want to complain about their wives. It's a great business niche, by the way." She paused. "And I don't have a boyfriend. I'm a widow." Olivia went quiet for a few seconds, trying to process everything. Then she adjusted her hair and softened her tone, changing the subject. "So that's what you're doing tonight?" she asked, feigning casual curiosity, clearly trying to shift the focus