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Chapter 175: Chapter 175 The Message
Lilith tried to close her eyes. Wrapped safely in Liam’s arms, his warmth surrounding her, his heartbeat steady against her ear—yet sleep wouldn’t come. Something inside her wouldn’t let her rest. Her body remained still, but her mind raced, tangled in thoughts she couldn’t shake off.
After a while, she shifted. Slowly, deliberately, she turned in his embrace until she was facing him. Liam lay on his back, his head resting on the pillow, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion. Before he could ask, Lilith moved closer, her breath brushing his lips.
"What are you doing?" he asked in a quiet murmur, his voice heavy with sleep.
She didn’t reply with words. Her lips found his in a sudden, aggressive kiss. It wasn’t gentle or teasing—it was hungry, like she was trying to silence something inside herself. Liam responded instinctively at first, but then gently pulled back.
"Lilith," he asked again, more awake now, "what are you doing?"
Instead of answering, she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her soft, curvy butt, her body pressing fully against his. "Shut up," she whispered, her eyes burning with intensity. "Let’s have sex."
But Liam didn’t move. He slowly pulled his hand back, then placed it on her hip instead. His fingers rubbed gently in a soothing motion, as he looked at her with more concern than desire. "Tell me what’s going on?" he said softly.
Lilith let out a breath. The fire in her eyes dimmed. She rested her forehead against his chest, her long golden-blonde hair falling over his face and shoulders. He gently brushed it aside, waiting for her to speak.
"It’s... it’s stupid," she muttered. "But after watching that tape, after seeing your father like that... I just kept thinking about mine."
Liam’s gaze softened. He understood now. Her strange silence when they returned to her place, the distant look in her eyes, the walls she’d tried to rebuild around herself—this was the reason. His hand moved up to cradle her head gently as he said nothing, just encouraging her with quiet support.
And for the first time, Lilith opened up. Slowly at first, like testing the waters, unsure whether she should really go on. But then her voice steadied and she shared stories about her childhood. Things she never told anyone. Her father’s coldness, the way her mother tried so hard to hold things together. How she used to hide in closets or on the rooftop when the shouting became too much. How she learned to be strong, to never cry, to never let anyone see weakness—because in her home, weakness was punished.
She told Liam about things that weren’t even related to her parents too—her first time breaking the law just to see if anyone would stop her, how power became an armor for her, how fear turned into control. She laughed about the silliest memory of stealing an officer’s hat and pretending to be the Chief
for five minutes. She even shared her teenage obsession with cheesy action movies that she now pretends to hate.
Liam didn’t interrupt. He listened, laughed when she laughed, held her when her voice trembled. It wasn’t often anyone saw this side of her—raw, vulnerable, real. But tonight, she let it show, just for him. She didn’t even realize she’d started smiling, but she was. A soft, unguarded smile that made Liam stare at her in quiet awe.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead tenderly, and when he pulled back, she was still smiling—like the weight she carried had finally been eased, even just a little. Her body relaxed against him, her eyes fluttering shut.
She was just about to drift off, her breath slowing...
When Liam suddenly wrapped his arms tighter around her waist and flipped her gently under him.
"Now," he said with a playful grin, "sex."
---
Liam’s eyes snapped open in the darkness.
The room was quiet. The digital clock beside the bed blinked 12:41 a.m. in dull red. A small grin tugged at the corner of his lips as he shifted his gaze downward. Lilith lay naked across his chest, her soft breaths brushing against his skin, her arm wrapped loosely around his waist like she never wanted to let go.
Gently, he moved her arm aside and lifted her off his body. She murmured something in her sleep, brows twitching slightly, but didn’t wake. He laid her on the bed and pulled the covers over her bare form. She looked peaceful—almost too peaceful for the kind of night he had planned.
He got up, quietly pulling on his clothes. Black shirt, black jeans. Gloves stuffed into his pocket. As he reached for the duffle bag by the corner of the room, Lilith’s voice cut through the silence.
"Where are you going?" she asked sleepily, her voice rough but sultry.
Liam didn’t turn around. "Just some people I need to take care of."
She blinked once, registering the words. Then she sighed and turned to her side, pulling the blanket up over her chest. "Be careful," she mumbled before drifting back into sleep.
Liam didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. He slipped out of the room, walked down the hallway of the penthouse, and took the elevator to the underground garage. The doors slid open with a soft ding, and he stepped into the cold, sterile space.
He picked one of Lilith’s cars—something sleek and silent. Tossing the duffle bag in the passenger seat, he slid into the driver’s side and pulled out without hesitation.
His destination: Sam’s house.
Josh’s precious little nephew.
He knew Sam would be guarded. Being the Chief’s family meant there would be eyes on the house, maybe even a full patrol. Liam didn’t care. Let the entire precinct show up. He’d planned this already—every detail. And after tonight, Sam’s name would vanish. Just another obituary in the papers. Just another body to file away.
He thought briefly of Vanessa and how she mentioned that new detective—Ryan, or whatever his name was. Young, eager, fresh off some transfer. Liam scoffed at the thought. He hadn’t met a single cop in this damn city that deserved his attention. Certainly not some rookie detective playing hero.
The car moved smoothly through the streets, headlights off.
When he pulled into Sam’s upscale neighborhood, the engine barely made a sound. He parked a few houses down, stepped out of the car, and breathed in the sharp, clean night air. The silence was thick. The moon high. A few porch lights flickered in the distance. A cat darted across the road.
Liam slung the duffle bag over his shoulder, adjusted his gloves, and walked.
No rush. No nerves.
Tonight wasn’t a mission. It was a message.
Sam was about to die.
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