LIAM CROSS.“I didn’t wet myself, Mrs. Davenport… water f-f-” The words stumbled out of my lips, trembling, and desperate. But before I could finish, her hand struck across my face, the sound sounding through the room. The slap burned, searing my cheek.“Very useless,” she hissed, her voice shaking with fury. “You can’t even lift yourself, let alone this family. What’s next? Are you going to poop on yourself too?”“I said I didn’t wet myself,” I tried again, my voice breaking... but another slap silenced me, harder this time. My head snapped to the side, the sting spreading down my neck.“Are you calling me a liar?” she snarled, her eyes daring me to repeat myself. “What’s left in you, really? I’ve seen abandoned dogs with more dignity than this.”I swallowed hard, the metallic taste of blood brushing my tongue. My eyes watered, not from pain but humiliation.She took a step back, looking me over like something she’d scrape off her shoe. “Now stand up,” she ordered coldly, pointing to

LIAM CROSS.THE NEXT EVENING Mr. Davenport’s face was a thunderhead dark, and ready to spill. He balled his hand into a tight fist, as I watched his knuckles whitening, then jabbed a single accusing finger at the corner of the table where the divorce papers lay. The paper trembled under the point, as if even it feared his command.“Sign here. This moment,” he barked. “Don’t make me create a scene that will humiliate you.” The words landed like like ice. Nurses in the corridor paused mid-step and glanced through the doorway. Pity and discomfort flickered across their faces, then they looked away.I stared at the line he pointed to... the line that would sever whatever thin thread of a life I still clung to. My hand hovered over the pen. “Isla won’t be the one to save you,” he said. He laugh hard, it turned into contempt. “She’s moved on. I’m here because I finished the job you were too weak to finish yourself.” My plan... such as it was, had been simple in its stupidity: is to refus

LIAM CROSS.The sound was faint at first, like a whisper drifting through fog. Then it grew louder, pressing into the silence. “Wake up.” The voice was soft, pulling me from the darkness I’d sunk into. My eyelids fluttered open.“You’re awake,” the voice said again.I turned my head, and there he was... the same man from the bridge. The one who’d stolen my escape and peace, his presence made my stomach tighten. I hissed, the memory of his grip still burning in my mind. He sat by the bedside, his broad shoulders relaxed.I pushed myself up, my body feeling stiff. “Careful,” he said, the word filled with concern that only fueled my anger.“Who are you?” My voice was rough. “And where am I?” I glanced around, feeling disoriented. The room was too peaceful for the chaos I carried. It has cream walls with framed photographs. He leaned back in the chair, studying me for a moment before answering. His jaw was square, his expression unreadable. “You’re in my home, Liam.”The way he said my n

LIAM CROSS.I raised my cup toward Dean’s, and we tapped them lightly, the faint clink sounding through the room.“Cheers,” he said, lifting his glass with that easy confidence of his, and I watched as he took a slow sip. I, on the other hand, didn’t waste time. I tipped my cup back and gulped it all at once, the liquid sliding down my throat all at the same time.When I set the cup down on the table, the cool clatter seemed louder than usual, echoing in the quiet space between us.“Woah, buddy,” Dean said, half-laughing, half-surprised, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe I had just drained the glass in one go.I stared at the cup for a moment, trying to find the words, any words, to describe how I was feeling, but nothing fit. My chest felt tight, my heart raced, and yet there was a strange lightness, like the world had tilted just enough for me to feel weightless. Everything still feels like a dream, surreal and fragile. If this is truly a dream, then I don’t ever want to w

LIAM CROSS I couldn’t understand why Victor still refused to give me the names of those people, It made no sense. I was more than ready to sit down with them one-on-one and have a proper conversation. I wanted to know who they were, what kind of people had the audacity to threaten Victor. Who did they think they were, moving in the shadows and pulling strings like they can control everyone?But Victor kept his mouth shut. No matter how many times I asked, he brushed me off or changed the subject. I didn’t get it.Why tell me at all if he wasn’t going to let me in on the truth? He was the one who confessed that some higher-ups had threatened him, but then he refused to explain further. It was like he wanted to unburden himself without actually solving anything.But I had other plans. If Victor refused to give me the names of the people I asked for, then I would find out on my own. I didn’t care how difficult it would be, I was determined. I just wanted to know who was involved, who th