Liam's POV
I sat in my office, staring at the wreckage of my birthday celebration. The unicorn was gone, but the humiliation remained, festering like an open wound. My fist still throbbed from where I'd slammed it against the desk. Another injury to add to the collection—physical pain to match the emotional.
My phone buzzed again. Sophie. I ignored it, just as I had for the past hour. Whatever concern or morbid curiosity drove her calls, I couldn't handle it. Not now.
The thought of spending another minute in this building—with whispers following me through hallways, with pitying glances from staff who'd witnessed my humiliation—was unbearable. I needed an escape. A release.
I pulled out my phone and called Thomas.
"Yes, Mr. Ashton?" His voice was steady, professional. No hint that he might have heard about the morning's disaster. Small mercies.
"I'm done for the day. Meet me at the parking garage in fifteen minutes."
"Of course, sir."
