The CEO’s Masked Secret Wife novel Chapter 53

53 A Bitter Taste of Regret and Rivalry

53 A Bitter Taste of Regret and Rivalry

Liam’s POV

The morning sun sliced through the blinds like a knife, each beam of light a personal assault on my throbbing head. I groaned and buried my face deeper into the pillow.

“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty!”

Damian’s voice boomed in my ears, making me wince. He yanked the curtains open fully, flooding the room with merciless brightness.

“I hate you,” I muttered, pulling the covers over my head.

“No, you hate yourself right now. There’s a difference.” He set a glass of water and two pills on the nightstand. “Take these. You look like death warmed over.”

I reluctantly emerged from my cocoon and swallowed the pills. My mouth tasted like something had crawled in and died. Last night at McGinty’s had been a mistake. After Hazel’s rejection, I’d drowned my sorrows in whiskey until Damian practically carried me home.

“What time is it?” I asked, squinting at the clock.

“Nearly noon. You’ve missed half the day already.”

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I shot upright, instantly regretting it as my head spun wildly. “Shit. The board meeting

“Relax. I handled it,” Damian said, tossing fresh clothes onto the bed. “Told them you had food poisoning. Which isn’t entirely untrue, considering how much poison you willingly consumed last night.”

The events of yesterday flooded back – playing with Leo, reading him a bedtime story, and then Hazel’s cold goodbye. My chest tightened painfully.

“She’s not taking me back, Damian.”

He sat on the edge of the bed. “Give her time. You really hurt her.”

“I saw my son,” I whispered, the reality still surreal. “He asked me to come back today.”

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“And what did you tell him?”

“That it was up to his mother.” I rubbed my temples. “She won’t even answer my calls.”

As if on cue, I grabbed my phone. Six missed calls from work, none from Hazel. I dialed her number again. Straight to voicemail. Again.

“Damn it!” I threw the phone onto the bed.

“Shower,” Damian ordered, pointing to the bathroom. “We have Evelyn’s farewell party tonight, and you’re not showing up looking like something the cat dragged in.”

I’d completely forgotten about the party. After fifteen years as my father’s assistant and then mine, Evelyn was retiring to London to be closer to her grandchildren.

“I can’t go,” I protested weakly.

“You absolutely can and will,” Damian countered. “Evelyn has put up with your bullshit longer than anyone. You’re going to shower, shave, and show your face at her party with a smile that doesn’t scream ‘I’m dying inside.””

An hour later, I was showered and dressed but still feeling like hell. Evelyn had arrived, taking one look at me before shaking her head.

“Oh, Liam,” she said with maternal disappointment. “What have you done to yourself?”

“Tried to drown my sorrows,” I admitted. “Turns out they can swim.”

She patted my cheek affectionately. “Heartbreak is a terrible thing, but it’s not terminal unless you let it be.”

“I’ve lost her, Evelyn.”

“Nonsense,” she scoffed. “That woman loves you. She’s just hurt and scared.”

“You didn’t see her face when she told me to leave,” I said, remembering the cold finality in Hazel’s eyes.

“Pride is a powerful thing,” Evelyn replied thoughtfully. “Sometimes it’s all we have left

when our hearts are broken.”

Damian reappeared with coffee strong enough to strip paint. “Drink this. You’ll need

it.”

12:12

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53 A Bitter Taste of Regret and Rivalry

The day crawled by in a haze of meetings and paperwork. By evening, my hangover had subsided into a dull throb behind my eyes. The farewell party was being held in the Grand Ballroom of the Sterling Hotel – my company’s flagship property,

I straightened my tie in the elevator mirror, trying to look less miserable than I felt. For Evelyn’s sake, I would put on a brave face.

The ballroom was transformed with elegant decorations and soft lighting. Colleagues mingled around cocktail tables while a string quartet played in the corner. I scanned the crowd, nodding at familiar faces.

“Mr. Sterling!” Evelyn beamed, approaching with her husband. “Thank you for all this. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

“You deserve it,” I said sincerely, kissing her cheek. “Though I’m still hoping you’ll change your mind about leaving us.”

She laughed. “Those grandchildren won’t spoil themselves, I’m afraid.”

The evening progressed smoothly until I spotted them across the room – Julian Clairemont and his daughter Isabella. My jaw tightened instantly.

“What are they doing here?” I hissed to Damian.

“Board insisted. Politics,” he murmured, looking equally displeased.

Julian Clairemont had been my father’s rival for decades. Now, with his company’s stocks tanking, he was making aggressive moves toward acquiring shares in Sterling Group. The audit had forced me to keep both Clairemonts on the board temporarily, despite my burning desire to fire them both.

Isabella caught my eye and smiled coldly before whispering something to her father. They made their way toward us, Isabella’s red dress clinging to her curvatious figure like a second skin.

“Liam,” Julian greeted me with false warmth. “Splendid party. Though I expected nothing less from Sterling extravagance.”

“Julian,” I replied curtly. “Isabella.”

Isabella’s eyes swept over me appraisingly. “You look terrible, Liam. Trouble in paradise?”

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53 A Bitter Taste of Regret and Rivalry

“Busy week,” I lied. “If you’ll excuse me, I should check on our guest of honor.”

“Before you go,” Julian said, blocking my path slightly, “I wanted to discuss the Asian expansion. My team has concerns about your approach.”

“The board approved my strategy unanimously,” I reminded him.

“Yes, well, circumstances change,” he replied with a smirk. “We’ve prepared an alternative proposal.”

I felt my blood pressure rising. “This isn’t the time or place, Julian.”

“No? Then perhaps we should discuss your assistant’s abrupt departure instead?” Isabella cut in. “Rumors are flying about why she left so suddenly. Something about inappropriate behavior in the workplace?”

My hands clenched into fists. “Ms. Vance resigned for personal reasons.”

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