STUCK WITH HIM

KRISTABEL’S POV

Immediately, Damien said those words, and everything stopped making sense.

This cannot be! Liam cannot be our partner! Why does it have to be him among the billions of people in this world?

I tried my best, but I’m not sure I did a good job hiding my shock and agitation.

“Kris, what’s the matter?” Damien asked, probably noticing the frown on my face. I quickly fixed my face with a plastic smile.

“Nothing, it’s just…Uhm… It’s nothing.” I said, stuttering despite my effort to stay calm.

“ Nice to meet you, Liam. I look forward to working with you.” I added quickly as I extended my hand to him with a perfect smile, Liam took it.

“Nice to meet you, Kristabel. I’m sure we'll have the best time working together.” Liam replied, staring into my eyes daringly. His face held a tight smile, but his voice promised something darker and much more ominous. I looked away.

“Perfect. I hope you both can work together on securing that deal as soon as possible.” Then he paused, a smile slipping slightly as his gaze shifted to Liam. “You know I value loyalty above all else, Liam.”

Liam didn’t flinch. “Of course. Always.”

“Good.” Damien’s tone softened again, the danger momentarily veiled. “I’d hate to be disappointed.”

And just like that, he walked off, leaving Liam and me suspended in a silence thick with unspoken history.

“I cannot work with you; we have to find a way out of this,” I said, pacing the hallway.

“There’s a way out,” Liam said thoughtfully. I stopped pacing, now really interested in his solution.

“What is the way out?”

“Quit. Just tell your rich boy-toy that you cannot handle the pressure of the deal. Please give him a sob story, I’m sure he’ll let you off easily. After all, you are his little princess.” Liam said in a mocking tone.

“I am not quitting,” I said, resisting the urge to slap him for calling Damien my boy-toy.

“Then I guess you are stuck with me. This should be fun.” He said snidely.

“Argh!” I yelled in frustration as I walked away.

I spent the rest of the evening obsessing over how I’d survive working with Liam Connor—the ghost of my past and Damien’s golden legal fixer. I told myself I’d ignore him and focus on closing the Dallas deal.

Easier said than done.

By noon the next day, Liam and I sat across from Mr. Dallas and his associate in one of Bach Industries' private conference rooms. I’d prepared all week for this, built the pitch from scratch—but five minutes in, I could tell I was losing him.

“This marks our primary development site,” I said, pointing at the PowerPoint slide of the waterfront blueprint. “We estimate a thirty percent yield in Q2, followed by—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mr. Dallas interrupted, waving a hand. “Can you get to the point already?”

I blinked, stunned. The man had barely glanced at the materials. I caught Liam shooting me a look from the corner of my eye.

Swallowing my frustration, I smoothed my voice. “To simplify, Bach Industries is offering an 8% interest on net profits from our real estate ventures in the district—"

“Ridiculous,” Mr. Dallas barked. “Where’s Damien? I want to speak to him directly.”

“Damien sent me,” I replied calmly, though my spine tensed like a steel rod. “And he’s already made it clear we won’t be bending to any inflated terms, especially when you need us more than we need you.”

Mr. Dallas stood abruptly, packing up his briefcase. I felt my heart lurch.

And then Liam stepped in—smooth as always.

“Mr. Dallas,” he said, standing with that casual air of command I used to love and now resented. “We respect your legacy and know your firm brings a lot to the table. But this deal isn't about favors—it’s about performance.”

Dallas paused, narrowing his eyes.

“We're offering 8% now,” Liam continued, “with an option to revisit terms in six months based on metrics. Plus, we offer commission bonuses for every closed unit. We want partners who earn their seat, like you.”

I was about to glare at Liam when I saw Dallas’s face light up.

“So, back to the million-dollar question, Mr. Dallas, would you be willing to sign with us at Bach Homes?” Liam asked.

“Of course I would. With you in that company, I know my business is safe,” Dallas said as he picked up his pen and signed the document.

“You should have let me handle it.” I brooded when Liam and I exited the meeting room and into the driveway.

It wasn’t fair… I practiced for this meeting. I did all the work, but all Liam had to do was swoop in and drop some lines. Maybe he couldn’t stand being told what to do by a woman. That had to be it. It wasn’t that I wasn’t good enough... it was misogyny. It had to be.

“Trust me, there’s no way he would have signed the deal if I had let you handle it. I guess some of us are better at our jobs than others,” he answered rudely as he typed away on his phone.

“Why do you have to be a jerk about everything?” I asked, stifling the insane urge to groan in frustration.

“Why do you have to whine about everything? Just take the win, which you are welcome to, by the way.” He returned.

“I did not need your help; I would have found a way out of that myself.”

“Oh. Tell me what would you have done?“ he asked now standing in front of me with his hands by his side. There was nothing special about the way he was standing or what he was saying but him looking at me in the way that he was made me loose my train of thoughts and instead get lost in the tranquil blueness of his eyes.

The stupid desire for him bubbled up to the surface once again. I swallowed hard, wanting more than anything to lean in and kiss him

Thank goodness my phone rang when it did.

“I’ve got to take this,” I said as I backed away a bit. I saw the caller ID and immediately felt scared. Oh God, not again!

“Hello,” I said nervously. Marilyn's principal’s voice came on. I could hear the fear in her voice, and I felt myself tense up.

“Marilyn had fainted this morning during sports.”

“Is…is she okay?” I asked, willing the tears not to escape my eyes.

“The doctors said it could be fatal if she doesn’t get the blood transfusion,” the principal answered, confirming my deepest fear. I felt my whole body tremble. I would not survive if anything ever happened to Marilyn. I will not forgive myself.

Marilyn had a scarce blood type, which made it difficult for her to get the transfusion she needed; It had caused several complications in the past and now again.

If only there were someone who matched her blood type. Only one person I knew had Marilyn’s blood type, and he was standing just inches away from me–Liam. I looked back with tears to see him staring at me. Seeing the tears in my eyes, he sprinted to where I stood.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His eyes had softened with concern, and for the first time since we had met again, he looked like Liam—my Liam. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t get the words out; all I could do was cry. The thought of Marilyn frail in the hospital broke me. The tears poured before I could stop it.

I continued crying as Liam held me in his arms.

“Shh, it’s alright, I’m here, Kris. I’m here.” He said as he cradled me until I calmed down a bit.

“Is there any way I can help?” Liam asked, his brows etched in concern.

I contemplated telling him the truth that he was the only one who could help. He was the only person who could save Marilyn. I was not going to say anything, but not saying anything would mean letting Marilyn die.

“My niece, Marilyn… she’s sick…and you’re the only one that can save her.” I lied. Liam looked confused but said nothing as he waited for me to continue talking.

“She has a scarce blood type and needs a blood transfusion, and I think you might match her blood type,” I added, hoping he wouldn't figure anything out with what I had said.

“ I know this might sound crazy, but please help me save her? Can you please come with me to Boston?.