Liam’s foot slammed against the oak door with the sound echoing through the luxurious penthouse apartment. He was fuming with each step he took a testament to his stewing rage. Seeing Isabelle connected to the phone with her voice laced with a warmth he had not heard directed at him, had burned a fire within him. The phone was pressed against her ears and her voice a low and calm filling his veins with icy dread.
“Max?” he growled the word a raw tone to his ears with his fists gripped at his sides.
Isabelle’s head whipped up with startled eyes widening in surprise. A flash of guilt flitted across her face easily replaced by a forced smile. “Liam,” she said, her voice strained while the phone went on with a metallic click. “I was not suspecting you would be back so soon.” She said.
“You were waiting for me?” he scoffed with a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you virtually roaring into that phone? Or did you think you were being subtle?” He asked.
He had not intended to be so harsh, but the sight of her enthralled by someone who was not him had pierced his precisely constructed facade. His heart pained with a strange pang with a raw and smarting sensation that he could not ignore.
Isabelle rose to her feet her voice now a shaky tone. “It was just Max. We were just talking.”
“Talking,” he repeated, his tone trickling with Vernon. “Just talking? About what? Your impending relationship?”
Liam’s eyes filled with a potent mix of wrath and hurt held hers interned. Isabelle fought the desire to look down. She saw the stewing rage beneath his forced calm. He was a powder keg held back by the thinnest of conditions.
“Liam, please..” she pleaded, her voice slightly audible. “It’s nothing like that.”
He scoffed, his dark eyes boring into her. “Nothing like that? You are laughing with him, you’re connected!” He stopped, a surge of pain washing over him. “You are not even trying to hide it.”
Isabelle’s heart pounded against her ribs. “Liam, you are being illogical.” she protested. “Max is just a friend… He’s…. he’s just trying to be helpful.”
He scoffed again his face laced with bitterness. “A friend, hmm? A friend who you are talking to late at night? A friend who you are laughing with?”
He took a step towards her, the air creaking with implied pressure. “Isabelle, Max is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He is not what he seems.”
“Liam, what are you talking about?” she demanded.
“I know him, Isabelle,” Liam said, his voice low and dangerous. “I know his games. He is playing you.”
“Liam, please.”Isabelle pleaded, her voice shaking. “You are being bad to Max.”
“Bad?” he asked, his voice laced with bitterness. “He is the one who is being bad to you. He is using you!”
He took another step towards her, his wrathfulness raising. “Do you not see, Isabelle? You are falling for his charm. It’s a facade, a trick. He is not who he appears to be.”
Isabelle’s face flamed with wrathfulness. “Liam, you are being ridiculous! Max has done nothing to me. I am not a child, I can make my own opinions.”
Liam’s eyes softened, the wrathfulness in his eyes replaced by a flicker of pain. He seemed to be about to say something then he sighed and sat down on the edge of the plush lounge, his eyes fixed on the sprawling cityscape beyond the glass windows.
“Isabelle.” he began, his voice sick. “I do not want to see you get hurt. I know how Max can be. He’s… he’s not a good person.”
Isabelle felt a spark of defiance enkindle within her. “Liam, you are letting your suspicions pall your judgment. Max is good. He is kind and caring.”
Liam chortled humorlessly. “Kind and minding, hmm? Tell that to the people he left broken in his wake. He is a conjurer, but his charm is a mask. Beneath it, lies a manipulator.”
Isabelle wanted to argue, to defend Max, but the look in Liam’s eyes, the way his voice had dropped to a low, nearly contending tone, made her vacillate.
Liam knew something she did not. There was a darkness in his eyes, a knowledge of things that she could not indeed begin to understand. He seemed haunted as if he had seen something terrible, something that had changed him ever.
“Liam,” she said, her voice softer now. “What happened?”
Liam did not answer, his eyes fixed on the city lights. His silence was a heavyweight, crushing the air between them.
“Liam, please, tell me.” she prompted, stepping near. “I know there is something you are not telling me.”
“You do not need to know,” he replied his voice slightly a tale. “Just trust me. Max is bad news. Stay down from him.”
“What did he do?” she persisted, her voice pulsing with a blend of fear and curiosity. “What happened to make you detest him so much?”
Liam’s eyes met hers, his eyes filled with a pain that imaged her own. “It’s not about detest, Isabelle,” he said, his voice laced with a painting weariness. “It’s about protection. I… I can not let him hurt you.”
Isabelle’s heart twisted. Liam’s words, his tone, spoke volumes. His protectiveness, his concern, it all felt. real. She had no way seen him like this before. Despite the wrathfulness and the allegations, she felt a flicker of hope.
Liam’s eyes softened, a flicker of gratefulness in his eyes. He reached out, taking her hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. “Isabelle,” he said, his voice gentler now. “I bought you a car. I wanted you to have something nice, something safe.”
He signaled towards the hallway, where a satiny black auto stood flashing under the soft gleam of the outflow lights. His eyes met hers, a blend of hope and apprehension in his eyes.
“You refused it,” he said, his voice a low murmur. “I understand why, but. please, accept it. It’s a way for me to feel like I am guarding you, indeed if it’s only in the lowest of ways.”
Isabelle’s heart sank. She knew Liam was right. The car was a symbol of his concern, his desire to keep her safe. She had been so focused on Max, on her passions, that she had forgotten about Liam’s protectiveness.
“Liam,” she said, her voice shaky with emotion. “I understand. I… I accept it.”