His Diamond in My Flesh

No matter where I was or what I was doing—when he called, I dropped everything and ran to him.

On my twenty-second birthday, I flew halfway across the world with a fever burning through me just to see him. The moment I stepped inside, I saw flowers and a diamond ring waiting on the table.

Like a predator claiming its prey, he pinned me against the door and kissed me with a hunger that left me breathless.

After the storm of passion, he pulled away without a word, coolly dressing as if nothing had happened. My legs were still shaking, but I forced myself up to help him with his tie.

He lit a cigarette, his eyes cold, empty—like I was nothing.

"I'm proposing to someone," he said, exhaling smoke. "Go decorate the place."

My fingers trembled as I tightened the silk around his neck. "I thought you didn't believe in marriage?"

"She won't agree to it. But you?" His lips curled into a smirk. "You're just a way to pass the time, Anya."

The floor dropped out from under me, plunging me into ice.

I'd thought he remembered my birthday. I'd thought the flowers, the ring—they were for me.

"Okay." I lowered my head, choking back humiliation, but my body wouldn't stop trembling.

Liam didn't notice. Or maybe he just didn't care. He tossed a handful of birth control pills at me.

"Don't forget to take them."

"I know."

I didn't need the reminder. I knew better than to think I deserved his child.

The last time I'd gotten pregnant, he'd thrown money at me and sent me straight to the clinic.

Liam's gaze was always empty—except in bed. Outside of it, he was nothing but my cold, untouchable superior.

"You're smart. Don't make trouble for me. I'm marrying Salome Amadeo."

"I understand."

My nails dug into my palms. How stupid I'd been to think I meant something to him. There had never been another woman—just me, clinging to delusions.

Liam stepped onto the balcony for a call. Even through the glass, I saw the rare, almost tender smile on his lips.

My body ached, but I forced myself to clean up the wreckage of our encounter. As I gathered the trash, hot tears spilled down my cheeks.

On my twenty-second birthday, Liam had thrown me away like garbage.

Four years.

So much time had passed I'd nearly forgotten how this began.

I'd been just a university student he sponsored—never daring to hope for more.

But fate had other plans.

One night, I found Liam drunk and unconscious at a bar. When I brought him home, he pinned me beneath him.

His touch was gentle, intoxicating—like a spell I couldn't break.

The truth? I'd already fallen for him.

But when he woke, his eyes were ice. As if the night before had never happened.

"Anya, you've got nerve. Scheming against me? How much do you want this time?"

I wanted to explain, but the words died in my throat.

He'd been drunk. I hadn't. I should've stopped him—but I didn't.

"I'm sorry."

Liam had never been with anyone before—untouchable, distant as a star.