“Nope.” His mouth twisted. “I knew my dad had another kid, but he never talked about him. Lawyer called, said we were both in the will. First time I learned his name.” His gaze slid toward Jacob again. “Not what I expected.”
“Jacob?”
“Yeah. He’s… successful. Made it out of this place.”
Liam stayed quiet.
Knox tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. “Bet he hates me already.”
“He doesn’t know you,” Liam countered, though he wasn’t sure that made a difference.
“That’s close enough, isn’t it?”
“Maybe not forever.”
Knox’s brows lifted at that, clearly skeptical. “You got your phone on you?”
Liam blinked. “Uh… yeah?”
“Hand it over.”
The demand was wrapped in impatience. Still, when Liam passed him the phone, Knox’s mouth twitched with faint amusement as he quickly punched in a number. He pressed it back into Liam’s palm before his expression shuttered again.
“Give that to Jacob,” he said. “He can use it if he ever decides curiosity is worth dialing.” His mouth kicked up into something resembling a sneer. “Not that he will.”
He didn’t wait for Liam’s reply, just turned, already moving away. No goodbye, no softness, only the imprint of someone who carried damage like a second skin, daring anyone to touch it.
Liam couldn’t shake the thought that if Jacob’s story was fire, Knox’s was the smoke you could choke on. The kind that seeped into your lungs and stayed there long after the flames were gone.
Chapter 34
Liam
Filming had wrapped three days ago; the last scene was in the can, and the shooting for season one was officially finished. Now it was post-production’s turn to work its invisible magic—editing, color correction, ADR, all the behind-the-scenes polish the audience would never think about. There would be interviews soon, maybe a red carpet or two, but tonight was the wrap party.
The ballroom shimmered beneath the chandeliers, gold light pooling across the marble floors. Laughter rolled across the room in bright, easy waves as the cast and crew gathered with producers and plus-ones to celebrate. The months of long hours and missed sleep had melted into shared stories and champagne toasts. Even the rougher moments from filming seemed softened here, blurred into the background in favor of joy.
It had been a couple of weeks since Stockton. Days filled with stolen touches and quiet moments tucked between takes. Their secret kept safely in the shadows. And now they were here, standing in a room built for spectacle, surrounded by tuxedos and sequined gowns, pretending they were nothing more than co-stars.
Liam leaned against the open bar, a half-finished champagne flute dangling from his hand. Laughter drifted around him, people embracing like family, even though he’d seen some of those same hugs turn to knives on set.
Across the room, by the balcony doors, Jacob stood with Caroline, looking unfairly perfect. His dark suit was tailored to the edge of sin, the fabric clinging to broad shoulders. His stillness radiated a dangerous kind of grace.
Caroline was dressed in black silk, her hair immaculate, every inch the poised Hollywood wife. Her hand rested lightly on Jacob’s arm as she laughed at something he said. Liam’s stomach gave a mean, ugly twist.
Emma had come too, though he’d told her she didn’t have to if she wasn’t feeling up to it. She’d insisted, wanting to be there to support him. She looked beautiful and radiant, even if she needed to spend most of the evening seated. Standing for hours had become too much at this stage of her pregnancy.
Liam had been attentive, checking in, making sure her water was full and her chair comfortable—the picture of a devoted husband.
None of it stopped the storm brewing inside him. He watched Caroline lean in close, her fingers grazing Jacob’s wrist in a way that screamed familiarity. Jacob angled himself toward her, his hand finding the small of her back like it was second nature. Something hot and painful knifed through his chest at the sight.
He didn’t understand why the jealousy was so bad tonight. They’d been having a full-blown affair for over a month now. Liam had long since made his peace with the fact that Jacob went home to her every night—or at least that’s what he told himself. He had accepted it in the quiet way you accept something you can’t change. But tonight, seeing him in that role was more than Liam could stand to watch.
It wasn’t like Liam wanted to be reckless; he wasn’t trying to fall apart in public—but it happened anyway. He didn’t even notice he was moving until the crowd blurred around him. He only stopped when Jacob turned his head, as though some invisible wire had pulled taut between them.
Liam’s hand closed around his arm. “Can we talk?”
Jacob blinked warily. “Now?”
