The study smelled of polished wood and power. Liam's boots clicked sharply on the marble floor as he stormed in, every step echoing his fury.
His father looked up from his desk, expression cold, measured — but the tension in the air was electric."You're late," his father said, voice clipped.
Liam slammed his hands onto the desk, making papers flutter."Late? I'm never late when it comes to protecting what's mine. But you… you hit her!" His voice cracked, raw anger shaking him. "You slapped Fiona because of her pregnancy? Do you even understand what you've done?"
His father didn't flinch. "She is my responsibility. And your responsibility is to control your emotions, not interfere with family matters."
Liam's eyes burned. "Responsibility? She is a person, not a chess piece in your empire! And hitting her? That's unforgivable!"
The old man leaned back, steepling his fingers. "She's part of this family now. And that family obeys me."
Liam's chest heaved. "Obeys you? She obeys no one but herself. And anyone who lays a hand on her will regret it. Even you."
A sharp silence filled the room. The kind that crackles before a storm.
Liam's fists tightened. His voice lowered, dangerous."You think power gives you the right to hurt her? You think because you control the company and the mansion, you control her? She is not property. She is Fiona, and I… I will not let anyone harm her again."
His father's lips thinned. "You sound like a child, Liam. You have power because of me, and you forget the world doesn't bend for your whims."
Liam leaned forward, face inches from his father's."Then maybe it's time you remembered: I will not bow to cruelty. She is mine to protect, and if you don't see that… I will make you see it."
The old man's eyes flickered — a hint of shock, the first break in his icy composure. Liam turned sharply and left the room, every step filled with purpose.
Back at the Smith Mansion — Fiona Returns
The front doors opened to reveal Fiona, her figure tall and poised, yet radiating the quiet strength that came from surviving everything. She carried herself like someone who had reclaimed her life.
The maids paused, the butlers froze, and even the grand chandeliers seemed to shimmer differently as she stepped inside. Whispers swirled like a gentle storm: She's back.
Liam appeared behind her, a dark shadow of protection and obsession. His presence alone cleared the hallway. No one dared approach. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His eyes — dark, intense, unyielding — were enough.
Fiona's gaze swept over the familiar rooms. Memories flooded back: the cold marble floors, the endless rules, the laughter and cruelty intertwined. She remembered everything, yet she walked with certainty. This was her choice, her return, and she would not allow anyone to dictate how she lived now.
John stepped forward, hesitant, guilt etched in every line of his face."Fiona… I…" His words faltered.
She shook her head, voice soft but unwavering."No, John. No apologies are necessary. I know what happened. I also know who stood by me and who… didn't."
Liam's hand brushed the small of her back. A silent claim, a promise, a warning to the world that she was under his protection.
John swallowed, stepping back, recognizing the unspoken bond that radiated between them.
Grace peeked from the side, still stunned by the weight of everything — the divorce, the chaos, the girl who had endured so much and returned stronger than ever.
Fiona's eyes met Liam's. No words were exchanged. But the unbreakable understanding passed between them: they had survived, they had reclaimed, and together, nothing could break the space they now occupied.
The mansion felt different that day — not because the rooms had changed, not because the chandeliers sparkled more, but because the balance of power had shifted. Fiona was back. And with Liam by her side, she would not be silenced or controlled again.