Page 33 of Because I Liked A Boy (Because I Liked A Boy Trilogy #1)

I woke before the alarm, the room grey with London morning and the ache in my cheek pulsing with my heartbeat. For a moment I didn’t remember why then Penny’s whisper crashed back in.

He locked me in my room… I’m scared.

I lay there until the ceiling blurred, then swung my legs out of bed and stood. No shaking. Not today.

The flat was already awake. Liam sat at the kitchen island in his shirt sleeves, tie loose, laptop open, two phones face-down like he didn’t trust them. He looked up the second he heard me.

“Morning,” he said, voice even. His eyes went to my cheek, flickered, then away. “Coffee?”

I nodded. He slid a mug over and a cold compress after it without comment. The quiet between us wasn’t empty it was packed tight with everything we weren’t letting spill.

“We go in at eight,” he said, glancing at his watch. “Doors open at seven for press. You don’t want the carpet. We want the room.”

I wrapped my fingers around the mug until the heat bit. “How bad is the guest list?”

“Every board he wants to impress. Politicians. Editors. The Cartwrights.” He met my eyes. “And your father.”

A laugh caught in my throat and broke. “Naturally.”

He shut the laptop. “We’ll do this clean, Bella. In. To Penny. Out.” A beat. “On my arm. Head high.”

I took that into the bathroom with me like a prayer.

I did my own makeup, foundation heavy enough to mute the bruise, liner sharp enough to feel like a weapon.

I pinned my hair back in a way that showed my throat because fear likes to live there and I was done giving it space.

The dress slid over my hips like a sheathe; the slit found my thigh and made a promise.

The gold bracelet Liam had chosen clicked softly against my wrist. When I tried the zipper, it stuck halfway and my breath snagged with it.

A knock. “Can I—?”

I opened the door. He took in the dress in one flick of his gaze, then looked away like it was dangerous to stare. His hands were steady when he found the zipper and dragged it up, careful not to touch more skin than he had to. I felt every degree of restraint like heat.

“Arm,” he said quietly when I turned. I gave it. He fastened the bracelet, the brush of his knuckles a spark that died as soon as it was born.

“You look…” He swallowed the rest and defaulted to practical. “You’ll pass.”

“Pass?” My mouth tilted. “I plan to burn.”

He huffed half a laugh that never quite made it. “Then let’s go start a fire.”

The car ride was mostly street lights and silence. He drove like he worked—focused, economical, no sudden moves unless he meant them. I kept my palms flat on my knees so he wouldn’t see them shake.

Mayfair rose around us like polished teeth.

Outside the hotel, a row of black cars fed into a spill of sequins and tuxedos.

Security stood in that expensive way: hands clasped, eyes doing the work.

Beyond them, I caught the flare of cameras against a press wall—ASHBOURNE–CARTWRIGHT in gold serif, like a threat dressed as a blessing.

Liam parked underground and brought me up through a service lift that smelled like steel and lemon. At the mezzanine, he reached for my hand. Not soft strategic.

“Stay close,” he murmured. “We belong here.”

His badge got us through the first checkpoint. His name on the list got us through the second. At the third, the man with the earpiece looked too long at my face and Liam’s grip tightened.

“Carter,” the man said. His gaze skimmed me again, professional, curious. “Plus one.”

Liam’s voice didn’t blink. “Colleague.” He nodded me forward, his body between mine and the man’s doubt. “We’re late.”

We weren’t, but we moved like we were, and the rope parted.

The ballroom hit like a flood. Light everywhere, chandeliers dripping crystal, candles set in glass like captured stars.

A string quartet made money sound like music.

Waiters moved in clean geometry, silver flashing, champagne rising and falling like tide.

The air smelled of roses and expensive intent.

I felt the room notice me. Not the way I used to, girl in the wrong dress, the wrong life but the way a spark notices a pool of vodka. Potential. Trouble. It spread fast, quiet as gossip.

Liam angled us along the edge, past a table smothered in white flowers, past men whose laughs were too loud.

He moved like he knew every exit and, maybe he did.

His body was a wall where I needed it to be, a shield without making it obvious.

My father would have approved of the choreography and hated that it wasn’t his.

And then I saw her.

Across the room, on a dais trimmed with roses, Penelope stood beside a boy in a midnight tux too handsome in that waxy, good-breeding way, a polite smile nailed to his mouth. Theo Cartwright. Eighteen. Future. Deal.

Penny’s dress was a pale thing that did nothing for the blood in her face. She looked like she was trying to be invisible while trapped under a spotlight, fingers white around the clutch she didn’t want. Her hair had been scraped into submission; her eyes were the only rebellion left.

They found me.

The world tightened to a pinpoint. For a second she didn’t believe what she was looking at—then her lips parted on a breath I felt across the room. Terror. Relief. Hope so sharp it hurt.

“Isabella,” Liam said low, a warning in the shape of my name.

“I see her,” I answered, and the calm that slid through me was colder than fear. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.

Penny’s mouth formed one word I’d promised her and myself until it turned to bone.

Promise?

I nodded once. Promise.

I felt the temperature drop before I saw him. The crowd shifted, a ripple that meant a shark had arrived. And then my father was there at the far end of the dais—black tux, ash-grey smile, eyes already cutting through bodies to find the problem he’d scented in his house.

His gaze landed on me like a slap.

The quartet played on. The room held its breath.

I kept walking.

“Isabella.” His voice cracked like a whip, snapping the air in two. The quartet stumbled but kept playing, strings trembling under the weight of his glare. “You dare show your face here? After everything?”

Dozens of heads turned. Jewel-bright women clutched their glasses tighter; men leaned forward, greedy for the spectacle.

The Cartwright boy stiffened beside Penny, his chin tilting up like he’d been trained for this.

Penny’s hands shook against her clutch, the pale silk darkening where her palms sweated through.

I stepped forward, each heel striking the marble like a challenge. “This isn’t your stage. And she isn’t your property.”

Gasps rippled through the ballroom like a wave against stone.

My father’s smile spread slow, ash-grey and rotten. “Still dramatic. Still ungrateful. You shame me every time you open your mouth.” His gaze sliced to Penny like a knife. “And you would drag your sister down with you? Pathetic.”

My throat burned, but I forced the words past it. “You’re the pathetic one. Parading your underage daughter as a bargaining chip. A deal sealed with roses and champagne.” My eyes swept the room, meeting curious stares. “Do you all see it now? This isn’t family. It’s slavery in silk.”

The murmur that followed wasn’t polite it was sharp, ugly, hungry. People whispered behind hands, their eyes darting between me and the dais.

Penny’s breath stuttered. Her lips parted, the tiniest rebellion. “I don’t want this.”

The ballroom seemed to tilt on its axis. The quartet faltered into silence.

My father’s head snapped toward her, smile vanishing into something skeletal. His voice was a hiss wrapped in velvet. “Not. One. Word.”

But it was too late. The words lived in the air now, a spark in a room soaked with vodka.

I took another step, my pulse hammering like war drums. “She doesn’t want this. She said it. And I’m taking her out of here.”

His mask cracked, and beneath it was something I knew too well pure, ruthless malice. “You think you can undo me with theatrics? You’ve always been weak, Isabella. Always reaching for power you’ll never hold. You’ll end like your mother did silent, forgotten, beneath my boot.”

The world narrowed. I didn’t breathe. Neither did Penny.

“Guards.” His voice was calm now, deadlier than the shout. “Remove her.”

Black-suited men stepped forward from the walls, wolves in tailored armour. Liam’s hand brushed mine light, grounding, dangerous. His voice was a blade at my ear. “Say the word, Bella.”

Chandeliers burned above us, hot enough to blind. Penny’s eyes locked on mine, wide and glassy. Promise?

And I gave it. With all the venom I had left.

“Try and stop me.”

The first guard lunged.

Liam moved faster. His body slammed into mine, arm braced as he shoved me behind him, his voice low and savage. “Now.”

I didn’t hesitate. My heels bit marble as I tore toward the dais.

Penny stumbled forward like she’d been waiting for this moment all her life, her clutch hitting the floor with a dull crack.

The Cartwright boy reached for her wrist trained reflex, not kindness but I ripped her free with a strength I didn’t know I had.

“Run,” I hissed.

Chaos cracked open. Gasps turned to shouts, waiters scattering as guards surged. A glass tower of champagne toppled, exploding into shards and fizz. The quartet’s bows screeched against strings, discordant, panicked.

My father’s roar cut through it all. “Do not let them leave!”

Liam was already there, ploughing through men twice his size, his fist snapping one’s head back with a sickening crack.

He grabbed my arm with his free hand, yanking me and Penny through the crush of sequins and silk.

Someone screamed as we shoved past; someone else cursed as champagne soaked their suit. None of it mattered.

We hit the side doors hard enough to make them shudder. A guard blocked the threshold, gun at his hip—but Liam didn’t slow. His shoulder drove into the man’s chest, sending him sprawling into the wall. The gun clattered uselessly across the floor.

“Go!” Liam bellowed.

The night air slapped me cold as we burst into the alley, Penny sobbing against my arm, her shoes skidding on stone. I hauled her up, adrenaline turning me into iron. Liam was right behind us, blood streaked at his collar, his tie long gone.

A black car screeched into view. Liam’s. He slammed the fob, doors unlocking with a sharp click. He wrenched the back door open and all but shoved Penny inside.

“In!” he barked.

I climbed in after her, my breath ragged, heart a drum against bone. Penny clutched me, fingers clawing into my arm like she’d never let go again.

Liam slammed his door, engine roaring to life just as more guards spilled into the alley, shouts cutting across the night. Tires screamed against wet stone as he wrenched us into the street, the car fishtailing before gripping hard.

In the rear-view, men scattered after us, one lifting a phone to his ear, another pointing furiously. My father’s figure stood framed in the ballroom doorway, black against the light, his smile sharp enough to cut.

Penny sobbed into my shoulder. Liam’s knuckles were white on the wheel.

And me? I stared into the dark ahead, my promise burning hotter than the fear.

We were out for now.

The car devoured the city in violent bursts, headlights smearing across wet glass, horns ripping the night open. Liam drove like a man possessed, every turn sharp, deliberate, threading us through streets that blurred into a smear of neon and stone.

Beside me, Penny clung tight, her sobs hot against my neck, her nails carving crescents into my skin. I wrapped both arms around her, my body still vibrating with the violence of escape.

And then I saw it. A pair of headlights behind us. Too bright. Too close. Wrong.

“Liam…” My voice barely scraped out.

“I see them.” His jaw was locked, his knuckles bone-white on the wheel. He slammed the accelerator, the car leaping forward like it wanted to break free of the road. Tires screamed, horns blared, but the lights didn’t fall back. They stuck. Closer. Hungrier.

Penny whimpered, curling against me tighter. “Bella…”

“Shh.” I smoothed her hair with a hand that shook anyway. “I’ve got you.”

The speed built until I couldn’t breathe, my body slammed back into the seat, my chest caged in terror. Street lights strobes too fast, too bright, turning everything into snapshots: Liam’s hands clenched at ten and two. The sweat at his temple. Penny’s tear-streaked face pressed into me.

“Hold on!” Liam barked. He wrenched the wheel, the car fishtailing, tires shrieking against wet asphalt. For one heartbeat, hope surged we’d lost them. But then the lights surged again. Closer. Blinding.

That’s when I felt it. The car jolted beneath us, the pedal sinking wrong under Liam’s foot. His curse ripped raw from his throat. “Brakes aren’t responding.”

My blood iced over. Not again.

Memory detonated inside me Nathan’s scream, the shattering glass, the smell of smoke. The silence after.

“Liam—” My voice cracked, broken. “Not like this. Please, not again.”

He fought the wheel, fury carved into every line of him. “I won’t let it happen!”

But the city didn’t care.

The car hurtled faster, engine howling, tires barely gripping the slick road. Ahead, traffic lights bled red through the rain. Behind, the headlights stayed locked on us, merciless.

“Why aren’t they backing off?” I choked, panic shredding my voice.

“They don’t want to,” Liam snapped, voice guttural with rage. “They want us broken.”

The engine screamed louder, the world tipping into madness. The mirror flashed, and for one sick second the headlights weren’t headlights at all they were Nathan’s eyes. Wide. Terrified. Begging me to save him.

My chest caved in, suffocating. “No,” I whispered, the word clawing free. “No, not again.”

Penny screamed as the car jolted, the seatbelt cutting hard into us, rubber burning thick in my throat. My nails dug into her back, anchoring her to me, as if my arms alone could fight inevitability.

The brakes gave another crunch, useless, mocking. Liam’s face was a ghost in the dash light, pale, furious, terrified. “Hold on!” he roared, like volume alone could change physics.

Red lights ahead flared brighter. Traffic blurred into obstacles, metal, glass, lives that had no idea they were about to be collateral.

The headlights behind surged, snarling closer. The hunter ready to strike.

“Bella!” Penny’s scream split the air, sharp enough to tear me in half.

I kissed her hair, clinging as the promise ripped from my throat like blood. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Metal shrieked. Tires split. Glass exploded.

The world spun sideways—light, dark, light—everything ripping apart at once.

For a heartbeat, I heard Nathan’s scream again, layered with Penny’s, tangled with my own. History folding over itself.

And then nothing.

Black.