Page 1 of Second Chance with the Enemy CEO
Prologue
Hazel – Five Years Ago
Icannot breathe.
The rain slaps my skin, but it is nothing compared to the ache in my chest, the way it feels like my heart is splintering with every drop that hits. My fingers are frozen as I clutch my phone - maybe it is the cold, or maybe it is just me trying to hold on to something, just anything.
I called him again.
“Pick up, Liam. Please, just pick up.”
My voice cracks as I whisper into the phone. I wipe my face, but it is pointless. My cheeks are already raw, burning red from the storm - or maybe from the slap, the humiliation still fresh from moments ago.
My heart thunders in my chest as I glance at the restaurant behind me, the memory of their words ringing louder than the rain.
“You are such a pathetic girl… You are no good for him…”
“Liam will see you for what you really are…, a worthless, unlovable person…, a gold-digger, and he’ll leave you.”
“They don’t know what they’re saying, Hazel,” I mutter to myself, wiping my face with the back of my sleeve. “Liam wouldn’t let them!” My throat closes at the memory of his mother’s icy words.
The sharp chill of the downpour bites through my coat, but I barely notice. My thumb hovers over the screen, hitting redial again. Voicemail. For the twentieth time.
“Liam!” I shout into the phone, my voice cracking under the weight of too much emotion. “Please…, just pick up. I need…” My words die in my throat, replaced by a sharp sob that I cannot hold back.
“He deserves better…,” his mum had said.
Better?Better?After five years, countless holidays spent proving myself, and every bit of love I poured into this family - this is what they think of me? His sisters did not bother to hide their sneers, either.
I run my free hand through my tangled, damp, auburn hair, tugging at the strands, already at my wit’s end.
He has to pick up the phone!
My hands grip the phone so tight I think it might crack.
I am about to dial again when I scroll through the contacts and stop. Matt. If anyone knows where Liam is, then it is Matt. I hit his name and begin to pace again, ignoring the puddles soaking through my sneakers.
“Hey, Haze, what’s up?”
The sound of his voice - casual, almost too casual - makes my stomach turn.
“Hey, um, have you seen Liam? Is he with you? I have been calling, and he’s not answering.” I hold my breath, hoping for something good, something that will settle this panic bubbling in my gut.
“Yeah, he’s here at The Rustic Roost,” he says, his tone clipped, sharp like he is in a rush.
“Okay, thanks…,” I say, my voice heavy, and I hang up before he can say anything more.
The Rustic Roost. The bar’s about twenty minutes from here. With the rain pouring down like this, there is no way I am getting a ride - especially not at this hour. I could wait for an Uber, but there is no guarantee that one will even come.
I wrap my arms around myself, the cold finally seeping into my skin. Every logical part of me screams to stop, to wait until morning. But logic does not matter when your heart is on the line.
The memory of his mother’s voice claws at me.You will never be good enough for him, Hazel.
They are wrong. They think that he will believe them.
What if he does?
He won’t. We have been together for five years. He loves me. Me!
