Chapter 167: Passenger Princess? [FIXED!]

Liam paced his living room a few times, phone in hand, checking the time more often than he needed to. Darren said 2 PM, and it wasn’t 2 PM yet, but Liam’s patience had never been particularly good when there was something to actually look forward to.

And there was a lot to look forward to lately.

He caught himself grinning at nothing in particular, dropping onto the couch and letting himself actually sit with it for a second — the money, the building, the women who’d started orbiting his life in ways he still hadn’t fully processed. A harem, if he wanted to call it that, though the word still felt strange in his own head. Whatever this was, whatever the system had turned his life into, nothing was standing in his way anymore. Not Arthur, not the firm, not the version of himself that used to shrink under Harlan’s disapproval.

"I could get used to this."

That thought alone was dangerous, and Liam knew it. It was exactly the kind of energy that could tip him into something reckless if left unchecked — the kind of overconfidence that made men sloppy right when they had the most to lose. Which was, if he was honest, part of why he valued Darren’s presence so much lately. Darren had no patience for Liam getting too big for his own ego. He’d clock it instantly and drag him back down to earth with a joke sharp enough to sting.

"Good. I need that."

He glanced at his phone again — 1:52 now — and used the last few minutes to tidy up slightly, more out of nervous energy than actual necessity. He was oddly looking forward to seeing Keiza again too, if only in passing. She had a steadiness to her that Liam respected, the kind of grounded presence that clearly kept Darren from spiraling back into old habits. And selfishly, Liam liked the idea that her being around might soften Darren’s usual chaos, at least for one evening.

A knock came at 2:04.

Liam opened the door to find Darren standing there, grinning ear to ear, Keiza just behind him adjusting her jacket.

"There he is," Darren said, pulling Liam into a quick handshake-hug combo. "The man, the myth, the landowner."

"Not quite a landowner yet, technically there’s a mortgage—"

"Details," Darren waved him off, stepping inside. "Where’s the champagne? We celebrating or what?"

Liam laughed, shaking his head, before his eyes landed on Keiza standing in the doorway, watching the exchange with quiet amusement.

"Hey," Liam said, suddenly a little more awkward than he expected to be. "Good to see you again."

"You too," Keiza said easily, stepping in and glancing around the apartment with open curiosity. "So this is the infamous Liam. Darren talks about you constantly, you know."

"All good things, I hope."

"Mostly," she said, smirking slightly, and Liam felt an odd flicker of nerves he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t attraction, nothing like that — Keiza just had this presence to her, warm but assessing, the kind of energy that made him feel like he was being quietly evaluated by someone who’d already decided most of what she thought of him and was simply confirming it in real time. Older-sister energy, maybe. Mother energy, even, despite the fact that she couldn’t have been much older than him to begin with.

He didn’t quite know where to put his hands, how casual to be, whether small talk or something more substantial was the right register. It was a strange kind of awkwardness — not nervousness exactly, just an unfamiliarity with being read so effortlessly by someone he barely knew.

"You want something to drink before we head out?" Liam asked, mostly to have something to do with his hands.

"We’re good," Darren cut in, already halfway to the door. "Let’s go, I’ve been waiting all day to see this building."

"Right. Yeah." Liam grabbed his keys, still slightly thrown by the whole exchange with Keiza, and the three of them headed out into the evening together.

-

For a moment, standing there watching Darren rib him about the passenger seat comment, Liam considered actually telling him. About Sara. About the break-in, the choking, the folder full of evidence she’d left behind with that cryptic little "go for his throat" note. About the fact that Arthur clearly had his hands in something far deeper than a wrongful termination.

The words were right there, sitting on his tongue.

But he swallowed them back down.

This wasn’t something to unload on Darren in the middle of a driveway, not with Keiza standing right there, not when Darren had his own life to manage — Keiza, the fights, whatever was still simmering with Drake in the background. Liam’s mess with Arthur and Sara was layered, tangled, the kind of thing that needed careful handling, not a rushed explanation before they piled into a car. It could wait. It would have to wait.

"You good?" Darren asked, catching the brief pause in Liam’s expression. "You zoned out for a second."

"Yeah, I’m good," Liam said, shaking it off. "Just thinking about the building."

"Mhm." Darren clearly didn’t buy it, but he let it go, tugging Liam by the sleeve instead. "Come on, quit standing there like you’re having a moment. We got somewhere to be."

Rachel, notably, didn’t even cross Darren’s mind. Whatever brief hallway exchange had happened that morning had already evaporated completely from his memory — she simply wasn’t significant enough to hold space there, not with Liam’s building on the horizon.

Liam checked the time as they walked toward the car — a little past 2 PM. Plenty of daylight left, which was good, because he still needed to figure out how to actually get that Louis Vuitton bag into Mrs. Harriet’s hands before the rebate window closed on him. He had no real sense of whether there was a hard deadline between purchase and delivery, and he wasn’t eager to test that theory with two hundred thousand dollars on the line.

"I’ll sort it after the building. Plenty of time."

They reached the car, and Liam gestured toward the passenger seat with mock formality. "Alright, princess, hop in."

Darren shot him a look. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Liam smirked, walking around to the driver’s side. "Passenger princess. Sitting there looking pretty while I drive you around."

"Bro." Darren stood by the door, utterly offended. "I will walk. I will genuinely walk to this building before I let you call me that."

Keiza, already settling into the back seat, burst out laughing. "Oh my god, it fits though."

"Don’t encourage him," Darren said, pointing at her before reluctantly climbing into the front seat.

"I’m just saying," Keiza continued, clearly enjoying herself, "you did put your visor down to check your hair before we left the apartment."

"That’s called basic grooming, Keiza, that’s not the same thing—"

"Princess behavior," Liam cut in, starting the car.

"I hate both of you," Darren muttered, crossing his arms and staring out the window while Keiza kept giggling behind him.

Liam grinned, pulling out of the driveway, genuinely enjoying the easy chaos of it all. This was the kind of thing he needed more of — simple, uncomplicated moments with people who had no idea about systems or rebates or ex-girlfriends breaking into apartments. Just Darren being dramatic, Keiza laughing at him, and the three of them heading toward something that actually felt like progress.

"For the record," Darren said after a moment, still facing the window, "when we get there, I’m walking in first. Reclaiming my dignity."

"Sure thing, princess."

"I swear to god, Liam—"

Keiza’s laughter only grew louder as they pulled onto the main road, the building — and whatever else waited for Liam beyond it — getting closer with every mile.

-

Gerald Finch had made sure everything was in order ahead of Liam’s arrival — the last of the leftover furniture cleared out per Liam’s instructions, the lobby swept and presentable, the elevators tested and running smoothly. Satisfied with the state of things, he’d left Priya to handle the actual welcome, trusting her to manage the transition smoothly while he moved on to his next deal.

Priya didn’t mind at all. If anything, she was looking forward to it.

She stood near the entrance, tablet in hand, going over the building’s paperwork one final time, though her mind wasn’t really on the documents anymore. It was on Liam.

A twenty-five-year-old buying a commercial building outright, in cash, with zero hesitation — that wasn’t normal client behavior, and Priya had been in real estate long enough to recognize a whale when she saw one. Whatever Liam was into, whatever had made this kind of money possible for someone his age, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that men like this didn’t stay one-time clients. They expanded, renovated, acquired more property, needed people they trusted to handle the logistics.

"And I could be that person."

She smoothed the front of her blazer, already mentally rehearsing how she’d position herself — helpful, competent, indispensable. If she played this right, Liam wouldn’t just be a closed sale. He could be a career.

That’s when she spotted him, walking up the street with two others trailing behind, laughing about something between themselves.

Priya straightened her posture immediately, plastering on her most polished smile, and stepped forward to greet him.