Page 25 of Liam (The Valeur Billionaires #4)

Chapter Fourteen

LIAM

I step off the elevator at LumiVera, straightening my tie in a futile attempt to look put together.

My mind is still reeling from the family meeting last night, the weight of our secrets pressing down on me like a physical force.

How am I supposed to lead a company when my entire world has been turned upside down?

I round the corner of the hallway. Aleria is hunched over her desk, her fingers flying across the keyboard with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb. At the sound of my approach, she startles, her elbow knocking over a precarious stack of papers.

“Dr. James,” I say, plastering on what I hope is a normal smile but must look more like a grimace. “You’re here early.”

Aleria’s head snaps up, her eyes wide. “Hmm. Yes.” She scrambles to her feet. “Your message last night asked me to be here early. ”

My stomach drops. The message. Oh God. Fragments of my drunken rambling float back through my hangover haze. Something about her eyes... and Jake... and being beautiful… Did I actually send it? Oh my God.

“Message?” I try for casual, but my voice cracks.

“The one about the emergency meeting?” Her cheeks flush pink. “It was rather cryptic.”

“Ah. That.” I clear my throat, tugging at my suddenly too-tight collar. “Of course. The meeting. We need to prepare the presentation.”

She nods, not meeting my eyes. “The presentation. Yes.”

As she pulls up the slides, I catch her biting her lip—that habit I definitely didn’t notice or mention in my text.

I force my gaze to my notes, but the words blur before my eyes.

The scent of her perfume wafts over me—subtle, floral, intoxicating.

It takes every ounce of willpower not to lean closer, to breathe her in.

“Dr. James,” I say, desperate to break the tension, “I think that should be 3.14159, not 3.14195.”

“Oh! You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m a bit distracted today.”

She leans over to correct the slide, and I glimpse her breasts as her blouse shifts. My mouth goes dry, and I have to physically stop myself from reaching out to trace the delicate line of it.

Drunk me was right about one thing—I am completely, utterly screwed.

A strand of hair falls across her face. I reach out to tuck it behind her ear. We both freeze.

For a moment, neither of us moves. I’m acutely aware of how close we are, of the warmth of her skin under my fingertips. Her eyes widen, pupils dilating .

Shit. “Aleria…”

She jerks back, nearly toppling her chair. “I... I think I left some important data in the lab,” she blurts out, already halfway to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

As the door slams shut, the sound reverberates through the room, pronouncing judgment on my utter lack of professionalism. I slump back in my chair, running both hands through my hair, gripping it as if I could physically pull some sense into my head.

What am I doing?

The question echoes in my mind, a relentless loop of self-recrimination. I’m Liam Valeur, for God’s sake. CEO. The man who can negotiate multi-billion dollar deals without breaking a sweat. And here I am, coming undone over a simple touch.

I straighten up, adjusting my tie and smoothing my hair. I’ll be the picture of professional composure. I have to be. Her hasty exit made it clear she’s not interested, and I need to respect that.

Aleria returns, her cheeks flushed. She takes her seat beside me, smoothing her lab coat.

“Dr. James,” I say, my voice deliberately neutral, “I think we should refine this presentation. Something seems not quite right.”

Aleria looks surprised. “Oh? I thought you were satisfied with it.”

“It’s good,” I assure her, “but it could be great. Shall we?”

We focus on the screen, but I’m too aware of her presence beside me. I catch myself stealing glances at the way she bites her lip in concentration.

“You know,” she says, fiddling with a pen like it’s some complex scientific instrument, “I’m the first in my family to go into academia. My parents run an auto shop.”

“Really?” I lean in, interested and grateful for the distraction from my own thoughts. “That must have been quite a transition.”

She laughs, a sound that does funny things to my insides. “Yeah, they never understood my fascination with physics. To them, if you can’t fix it with a wrench, it’s not worth knowing.”

I smile despite the turmoil inside me. “And here you are, fixing things with your mind.”

“Exactly.” Her eyes light up, and for a moment, I forget about family secrets and looming disasters. “Although sometimes I think it’d be easier to realign a carburetor than to get these quantum states to behave.”

“Do you enjoy it?” I ask, desperate to keep this moment of normalcy going, to stay in this bubble where the outside world can’t touch us. “Working here in the lab, I mean.”

Her whole face transforms as she answers. “I love it. It’s where I feel most alive, most myself. Like I’m not just observing the universe, but actually touching it, you know?”

I nod, captivated by her passion.

She pauses, her eyes focusing on a point just above my eye. “How did you get this?” she asks softly, reaching out to touch the scar on my eyebrow.

Her fingers are warm against my skin, and I have to suppress a shiver. The gentle touch is so at odds with the violence that’s been occupying my thoughts since last night. “A souvenir from my last reckless night after graduation.

I stepped into a bar fight, trying to play hero, and caught the wrong end of a broken bottle.

It took all of my father's influence to keep it out of the papers. That night taught me the true cost of impulsive actions and the weight of the Valeur name. It was when I finally grew up and embraced my responsibilities.”

She smiles, her hand lingering. “So, you're telling me you got that scar playing white knight in a bar fight? How convenient. Did you leave out the part where you rescued a kitten from a burning building on your way home?”

She pauses, studying the scar more closely. “Still, it's not a terrible look on you. Makes you seem almost human.”

“Almost human, you say? Careful, Dr. James. That sounded dangerously close to a compliment. We wouldn't want anyone thinking you actually find me attractive now, would we?” I murmur, aware of how close we are.

The heat radiating from Aleria’s body seems to penetrate my suit, warming my skin underneath.

Her fingers linger on my eyebrow, the touch feather-light but electrifying.

The urge to lean into her touch is almost overwhelming.

It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing that one step will change everything.

Our eyes meet, and the air between us crackles with unspoken desire. Aleria’s pupils dilate, her breath catching. My gaze drops to her lips, noticing how she parts them ever so slightly, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet them.

Time seems to slow, each heartbeat stretching into eternity. Blood rushes in my ears, drowning out everything else. The scent of her perfume envelops me, a heady mixture that makes my head spin.

I lean in, and Aleria mirrors the movement. The distance between us shrinks, the air growing thick with tension. Her hand slides down from my eyebrow to cup my cheek .

Every rational thought in my head screams at me to stop, to remember who we are and where we are. But in this moment, with Aleria so close, the thundering of my heart and the magnetic pull between us drown those thoughts out.

Just as I’m about to throw caution to the wind and kiss her, the door bursts open.

We jump apart, and I curse the laws of physics that didn’t see fit to open a wormhole and swallow us up.

“Oh, Mr. Valeur,” the employee says, oblivious to the moment they’ve just shattered. “I didn’t realize you were here already.”

“Just going over some details with Dr. James,” I say. My heart races, a mix of adrenaline from the almost-kiss and panic at nearly letting my guard down.

Aleria busies herself with the computer, her cheeks flushed. I clear my throat, searching for something—anything—to say.

“We should, uh, finish this later.”

“Right. Later. Good idea,” Aleria responds, still not meeting my eyes.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of meetings and paperwork, but my mind keeps drifting between two points. The almost-kiss with Aleria and the devastating family meeting. The contrast between the two is jarring.

As the office empties for the night, I linger at Aleria’s desk, torn between the desire to be near her and the knowledge that I should keep my distance.

She looks up, meeting my gaze. Her eyes are a swirling mixture of emotions. Confusion, longing, and something that looks like fear. It mirrors the chaos I feel.

“About earlier…” I’m not sure what I’m going to say. Ap ologize? Ask her to forget it happened? Beg her to let me kiss her properly this time?

“It’s fine,” Aleria says, cutting me off, her words tumbling out in a rush. “We got caught up in the moment. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

There’s a pang in my chest at her dismissal, sharper than I expected. “Right,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Just a moment.”

But as she stands to gather her things, her hand brushes against mine. We both freeze, the simple touch electric. For a heartbeat, neither of us moves. How easy it would be to pull her close, to damn the consequences and lose myself in her.

“Liam, I...” Aleria breaks the silence, her voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?”

She steps back, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I should go. Jake’s waiting for me. We have plans.”

The mention of Jake’s name is like a bucket of cold water. I straighten, slipping on my professional mask as if it’s armor. “Of course. Don’t let me keep you.”

Aleria hesitates for a moment, looking like she wants to say more. Instead, she simply nods and hurries out.

I watch her go. Part of me wants to call her back to finish what we started. To tell her everything—about my family, about my feelings for her, about how terrified I am of the future.

But the rational part of my brain, the part that got me through law school and built a tech empire, knows it’s better this way.

I’m the key investor in her project. I have a responsibility to maintain professional boundaries.

And with everything going on with my family, dragging Aleria into that mess would be selfish and dangerous.

I slump into my chair, the weight of the day crashing down on me. How did everything get so complicated? A week ago, my biggest concern was a presentation. Now, I’m juggling family secrets, potential criminal investigations, and feelings for an employee I can’t act on.

I pull out my phone, staring at the text I sent to Aleria.

What was I thinking? I sound crazy, needy. Not at all like the confident CEO I’m supposed to be.

I toss the phone aside and lean back, staring at the ceiling. My father, the man whose moral code I’ve built my life around, is a murderer. Our family’s empire, every line of code and legal precedent we’ve established, could come crashing down faster than a poorly secured blockchain.

And Aleria... God, Aleria. The one person who makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay is off on a date with someone else. Someone uncomplicated.

A bitter laugh escapes me. If this were a legal case, I’d know exactly what to do. Build a defense, find loopholes, protect my client at all costs. But this? This is uncharted territory.

There’s no precedent for how to handle your father’s decades-old crime while simultaneously pining for a woman who’s not only off-limits but clearly not interested. No amount of coding or legal maneuvering can fix this.

I have absolutely no idea what to do.