Liam's POV
Two days had passed since the board meeting, and the knot of tension in my shoulders had only tightened. Sleep eluded me, leaving me staring at the ceiling of my bedroom until the early hours, mind churning with strategies and countermoves. When I finally did drift off, my dreams were filled with faceless accusers and crumbling empires.
The insistent buzz of my phone dragged me back to consciousness. I reached for it blindly, squinting at the screen. A calendar notification glowed back at me: "BIRTHDAY - 40 YEARS."
I stared at it for a long moment before dismissing it with an aggressive swipe. My birthday. The reminder felt almost mocking—what exactly was I supposed to celebrate? Another year of watching everything I'd built teeter on the brink of collapse? The fact that at Fourty, my marriage was in shambles, my best friend wouldn't speak to me, and my position at my own company hung by a thread?
Happy fucking birthday to me.
