Chapter 4

Back in my real home on the Upper East Side, I looked through the "gifts" Liam had given me over the years.

The second-hand acoustic guitar, a twentieth birthday present, had a crack in the neck. I had once treasured it, using it to compose, until I saw Nina post a photo on social media of a brand-new custom Fender.

Her caption read: "Liam says only the best instruments are worthy of my aura."

The notebook filled with our shared creative inspirations was now just an empty shell.

Liam had taken it, claiming he needed to organize his thoughts, but the very next day, lines from my lyrics appeared as "mood quotes" on Nina's Instagram.

And the scarf I had stayed up all night knitting for him—he had never worn it, yet it appeared in a photo of Nina's, used as padding for her cat's bed... Everything I thought was a bond unique to us, he had treated like garbage.

Worse, it wasn't even equal.

Thinking of Liam's bottomless indulgence of Nina, always unconditionally giving her the best resources, a bitter smile touched my lips. Since this was his choice, this junk could go straight into the fireplace.

I booked a first-class ticket to London for the next day.

At two in the morning, my phone rang violently, startling me from my sleep. I answered groggily, but the other end was dead silent.

Just as I was about to hang up, Liam’s low, agitated voice came through: "Harper, I'm sorry."

My brain instantly cleared. *Is he finally going to confess?*

But he immediately followed with, "Nina had an emotional breakdown. I can't leave her alone, so I have to postpone the London trip we agreed on."

That faint glimmer of hope was extinguished, leaving me feeling like an utter fool. I wanted to scream at him, to ask why he forced me to bear the pressure of his fabricated hardships.

He remained oblivious, continuing, "Just say you're sorry."

I was stunned. "What?"

He doubled down, his tone firm. "You need to apologize to Nina. She broke down because she feels she stole your place."

I was speechless, but this finally clarified everything. As long as Nina was involved, anything I said would be wrong.

Liam's voice turned colder than the Hudson River in winter. "You disappoint me. If you apologize, we can pretend none of this happened. In two months, I'll come to London to find you. Are you really going to ruin our partnership over this bit of pride?"

His words carried a sharp threat, but I no longer felt pain or reluctance—only disgust.

I hung up, blocked his number, and deleted it from my phone entirely. I couldn't wait to get on that plane.

The London morning was thick with fog, like a canvas waiting to be painted.

Someone took my luggage from my hand. I looked up and met the deep eyes of Julian Thorne. He grinned. "Harper, long time no see."

I shook his hand, a sincere smile blooming on my face. "Good to see you, Julian."

My phone vibrated, breaking the perfect moment. It was a call from one of Liam's agents.

When I answered, Liam’s voice came through, sounding panicked. "Harper, where are the master tapes for the new songs? Why is the engineer saying the files have been deleted?"