Hey, Heartless Billionaire, Am in Charge!

The Man Behind the Mask

Sophia Dawson was not one to let her emotions get the best of her, but today, as she walked through the towering marble corridors of Dawson Industries, every step felt like it carried the weight of a thousand betrayals. The revelation about Charles Whitmore gnawed at her like a festering wound, and the trust she had once had in him felt like a distant memory.

She entered the executive boardroom, the large double doors closing behind her with a soft thud. The room was empty, save for one person—her mother, Eleanor Dawson. The formidable matriarch sat at the head of the table, her posture regal and her gaze sharp. Eleanor was a woman who commanded respect, her mere presence a reminder of the power she wielded both in the business world and within her family.

"Sophia," Eleanor greeted her, her voice cool and measured. "I hear you've had quite the morning."

Sophia took a deep breath and approached the table, dropping the manila envelope Eric had given her onto the polished wood surface. "It appears that we have a traitor in our midst," she said, her tone hardening. "Charles Whitmore has been funding Vanguard Holdings' attempts to take over our company."

Eleanor didn't flinch, her expression remaining inscrutable as she opened the envelope and began to examine the documents inside. After a long moment, she looked up at her daughter, her eyes steely. "I had my suspicions about Charles," she admitted. "But I didn't want to believe he could be capable of such treachery."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sophia demanded, her voice rising with frustration. "You knew he was up to something, and you said nothing!"

Eleanor's gaze softened, just slightly. "Because I didn't have proof, Sophia. And because I know how close you were to him. I wanted to protect you from the truth until it was necessary."

"Protect me?" Sophia echoed, incredulous. "By keeping me in the dark? This is my company, Mother! I have the right to know everything that affects it, especially when it's coming from someone I trusted."

Eleanor closed the envelope and set it aside, leaning back in her chair. "You're right. I should have told you. But now isn't the time for us to be at odds. We need to focus on how we're going to deal with this."

Sophia took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Eleanor was right—now wasn't the time for a family quarrel. They had bigger enemies to face. "I've already confronted Liam about it," she said, trying to regain her composure. "He claims he had no idea about Whitmore's involvement."

"And do you believe him?" Eleanor asked, her gaze penetrating.

Sophia hesitated, thinking back to the meeting with Liam. His reaction had seemed genuine, but Liam was a master at hiding his true feelings. "I want to believe him," she admitted, "but I can't be sure. Liam is too good at playing his cards close to the chest."

Eleanor studied her daughter for a moment, then nodded. "Liam is a dangerous man, Sophia. He always has been. But so are you. The question is, can you trust him enough to keep him close, or is he just another threat you need to neutralize?"

Sophia swallowed hard. She had spent so much time and energy building walls around herself after her divorce from Liam, fortifying her defenses against any emotional or professional attack. But now, those walls felt like they were crumbling. "I don't know," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what to do."

Eleanor reached out and took her daughter's hand, a rare gesture of affection that made Sophia feel like a little girl again. "Whatever you decide," Eleanor said gently, "just remember that you have the strength to see it through. You don't need to trust anyone but yourself."

Sophia nodded, though the words provided little comfort. "I should go," she said, pulling her hand away. "There's still so much to do."

Eleanor watched her daughter stand, her eyes filled with a mixture of pride and concern. "Sophia," she called as Sophia reached the door. "Be careful. And don't let your guard down. Not with Liam, not with anyone."

Sophia paused, her hand on the doorknob, before turning back to her mother. "I won't," she promised. "Not again."

As she left the boardroom, Sophia's thoughts churned with a mixture of anger, confusion, and fear. Liam might be an ally for now, but she couldn't ignore the possibility that he was playing a deeper game, one that could end with her as the ultimate loser. And Charles—how could she have been so blind? The man she had once trusted more than anyone had been plotting against her all along.

Sophia’s phone buzzed, pulling her back to the present. It was a message from Liam: We need to talk. Meet me at our old place at 8 PM.

She stared at the message, her heart pounding. Their old place. It was the house they had bought together during their brief, turbulent marriage—a sprawling estate on the outskirts of the city, filled with memories both sweet and bitter. They hadn't been back there since the divorce, and the thought of returning to that place stirred something deep within her.

Sophia’s first instinct was to refuse. She didn't want to dredge up old memories, especially now when everything was so precarious. But something—curiosity, perhaps, or a masochistic desire to see if anything had changed—made her hesitate. What did Liam want to discuss that required such a significant setting? Was it another manipulation, another trap?

Or was it something else entirely?

Against her better judgment, she typed out a quick reply: I’ll be there.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and phone calls, but Sophia’s mind was elsewhere, fixated on the upcoming encounter with Liam. She left the office earlier than usual, needing time to prepare herself for whatever awaited her at the estate. As she drove through the city, her thoughts raced, running through every possible scenario. Was this another one of Liam’s power plays? Or was he finally going to be honest with her?

By the time she pulled up to the gates of the estate, the sun was dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the grounds. The sight of the house—imposing, elegant, and filled with ghosts of the past—sent a shiver down her spine.

Sophia hesitated before stepping out of the car, her heels clicking against the gravel driveway as she approached the front door. It was already ajar, as if waiting for her.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The interior of the house was exactly as she remembered it, down to the last detail. The grand staircase, the crystal chandelier, the expensive art on the walls—it was all a monument to the life they had once shared. A life that had ended in ashes.

"Liam?" she called out, her voice echoing through the empty foyer.

"In here," came the reply, his voice drifting from the living room.

Sophia made her way toward the sound, her pulse quickening. When she entered the room, she found Liam standing by the fireplace, his back to her. He was holding a glass of whiskey, staring into the flames.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension in the room was palpable, a thick, suffocating thing that made it hard to breathe.

Finally, Liam turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "You came."

"You asked me to," Sophia replied, keeping her voice steady. "What is this about, Liam? Why here?"

Liam took a sip of his drink, then set the glass down on the mantel. "Because this place represents everything we lost," he said quietly. "And everything we could have had."

Sophia felt a pang of something—regret, perhaps, or a distant echo of the love they had once shared. "Liam, if you're trying to—"

"Let me finish," he interrupted, his tone firm. "Sophia, I know I’ve made mistakes. I know I’ve hurt you in ways that are probably unforgivable. But when I found out about Whitmore, about what he’s been doing… it made me realize something."

"And what’s that?" she asked, her heart pounding in her chest.

Liam took a step closer, his gaze intense. "That I can’t lose you again. Not like this."

Sophia's breath caught in her throat. "Liam, this isn't—"

"I know this isn't the time for this," Liam said, cutting her off again. "But I can't keep pretending that all I care about is the business. Sophia, I made a lot of decisions out of fear and pride, and I drove you away because of it. But I need you to know that despite everything, I still—"

"Stop," Sophia said, her voice trembling. "Don't say it, Liam. Don't say what I think you're going to say."

"Why not?" he asked, his voice softening. "Because it's the truth?"

"Because it changes nothing," Sophia shot back, her emotions swirling in a chaotic storm. "We’re in the middle of a corporate war, and you think now is the time to talk about… about us?"

"Yes," Liam said, his eyes locking onto hers. "Because if we don’t deal with this now, it’ll destroy us both. And I can't let that happen. Not again."

Sophia felt her defenses crumbling, the walls she had so carefully built around her heart starting to crack. She had wanted honesty from Liam, but now that she was getting it, it was almost too much to handle.