The Twenty-Billion-Dollar Sacrifice

When I got back to the apartment, the front door was slightly ajar. A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. I pushed it open slowly.

The sound of soft moans drifted from the living room.

I walked in to find a scene that ripped the remaining shreds of my heart apart. Sophia Harper was straddling Liam on the custom-made sofa I had picked out. His hands were under her shirt, her head thrown back in ecstasy.

It wasn't just intimate; it was explicit. They were so lost in each other they didn't even hear me enter.

"Ahem."

Liam froze. He pushed Sophia off him, scrambling to button his shirt, his face flushing with anger rather than shame. "Elena."

Sophia adjusted her dress slowly, a smirk playing on her lips. She didn't look scared; she looked triumphant.

"Elena, can you give us a minute?" Liam said, keeping his voice low, as if I were the intruder. "Sophia isn't feeling well emotionally. She needed comfort. I'll come to the guest room later."

"The guest room? Comfort?" I laughed bitterly. "Liam, you were practically undressing her in our living room. This is my apartment. My name is on the lease. If anyone should leave, it's her."

"Please, just for tonight," he said defensively. "You know how she is. We grew up together. She needs me right now."

"Sort what out?" Sophia chimed in, wrapping her arm around his waist. "He loves me, Elena. You were just a placeholder."

"Sophia, stop," Liam warned, but he didn't push her away.

"It's true," she sneered. "He told me he never wanted kids with you. He said the thought of it made his skin crawl. That's why he was so relieved when he sent you to the clinic."

My blood ran cold.

"You think you can win?" she continued. "I'm Sophia Harper. My uncle is a powerful producer. Who are you? A no-name architect he picked up out of pity."

My hands balled into fists. "Get out," I whispered.

"Make me," Sophia challenged. She suddenly threw herself backward into the coffee table. "Ahh! My stomach! The baby!"

Liam spun around, seeing her on the floor. He didn't ask questions. He lunged at me, shoving me hard.

"You monster!" he roared.

I stumbled back, my hip slamming into the granite kitchen island. A sickening crack echoed—my ribs. I slid to the floor, gasping, clutching my side. Blood began to seep through my blouse.

"Liam... I'm hurt," I wheezed.

He didn't look at me. He was cradling Sophia. "Are you okay, my love? Did she hurt our baby?"

He looked at me with pure hatred. "She saved my life, and you try to kill her child? Get out of my sight, Elena. If anything happens to Sophia, I will destroy you."

He carried her out, stepping over my broken body.

I lay on the floor, tears mixing with the blood. As the pain throbbed in my side, a memory washed over me, unbidden and cruel.

I was twenty-one. We were in the university library, sharing a single cup of cheap coffee because Liam couldn't afford his own. He had traced the lines of my palm, his eyes full of dreams.

"One day, El," he had whispered, kissing my knuckles. "I'm going to build an empire. And you'll never have to work again. I'll treat you like a queen. You're the only one who believes in me."

I had smiled, so in love it hurt. "I don't need to be a queen, Liam. I just need you."

Then the memory shifted. My father's study, the night I left. The mahogany desk between us like a canyon.

"He is a parasite, Elena!" Marcus Foley had roared, his face purple with rage. "He sees your money, not you! If you walk out that door with him, you leave this family behind. No trust fund. No protection. Nothing."

"I don't care about the money!" I had screamed back, my voice shaking with conviction. "I'd rather eat instant noodles with him than caviar in this prison! He loves me for me!"

"You are making the biggest mistake of your life," my father had whispered, turning his back on me.

I choked on a sob, lying on the cold kitchen floor. My father was right. I had traded a kingdom for a man who just left me bleeding to comfort a liar.