Page 45 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Isla

I wish I could tell you I practiced that little speech I made to the camera, but I hadn’t.

When I heard from Karina what Liam had done for me, it was like a veil was lifted.

That knot of doubt that I hadn’t even realized I carried under my breastbone simply dissolved.

I knew what I had to do. If he’d gone to such lengths to make me feel safe, if he felt so much for me, it was only right I share with him the one secret that stood between us.

I hadn’t planned on doing it so publicly. Not until that moment when I walked up to him, looked into his eyes, and knew it was best I get it all out in one go. So he’d know what I am. So he’d understand the reason we couldn’t be together anymore.

I pulled up the camera app on the phone, turned on the selfie mode, said my bit, and removed my wig.

I typed up a short post in which I mentioned I have alopecia.

Yeah, I’m courageous, but not enough to say it aloud.

Yet. But at least, I said it in writing.

And maybe it was a tad dramatic to whip off the wig like that, but there was no easy way to do it, was there?

Now, the wig hangs from my fingers. I place it on the table, then pull off my wig cap so my bald head is visible to everyone.

On-screen, Liam’s face is frozen in shock. He seems incapable of action. So, I take the phone from him and upload the video to my social media feed. There are no other words in this post. I think it’s quite self-explanatory.

Then, I slide the phone into my handbag, along with my wig and my wig cap. When I glance at him over my shoulder, the expression on his face is somewhere between surprise and anger. He hates how I look. He hates me for what I hid from him. I expected as much.

I walk out from behind the desk and head to the exit. I reach for the door and begin to pull it open when footsteps sound behind me.

The next moment, he’s there. He slams the door shut, turns, and leans against it. "Where do you think you’re going?"

His voice is controlled. I don’t dare raise my gaze, so all I can see of him is his chest and shoulders. The muscles of which are bunched and stretch the jacket of his suit.

"Let me go."

"No."

"I… I said what I came to say. I’m ready to leave."

"I’m not ready for you to leave."

A cloud of anger spools off of him and slams into my chest. It’s visceral in its intensity. The air between us is thick with emotions… with annoyance… with exasperation… and with rage.

A ball of sensation takes up residence in my throat. It feels like a heavy weight is pressing down on my chest. I try to breathe, but my lungs burn. I’m not going to break down. Not now. Not after I’ve come this far. I need to get out of here with my dignity—whatever’s left of it—intact.

"Liam, please," I whisper.

"You don’t get to tell me what to do; not after that stunt you pulled."

"I know, it’s a surprise—"

"A surprise?" He seems to have trouble forming the words. "You think what you did was a surprise?"

I swallow. "I know it’s not something you were expecting."

"You know nothing." His voice is so hard, I wince.

"I know I should have told you about my… condition."

"You think?"

"It took me a while to come to terms with it, you know. I've been coming to grips with it for the past five years. I knew I needed to come out and show my true self to the world, but I couldn’t do it. And after everything you’ve done for me, I decided I owed you."

"So you decided you were going to publicly bare yourself?"

"Seemed like the best way to do it."

"And you didn’t think you should share it with me first?"

I hesitate. I still haven’t looked up at him, but I can see the pulse beating at his throat.

"I thought it best to do it all in one go. Like pulling off a bandage, you know?"

“Do you have any idea what you put me through? I thought you were going to announce we were splitting up. Instead of being upfront with me, your hurt me, but more importantly, you hurt yourself." His voice is low.

"It was going to happen." I raise a shoulder.

"I would have done anything to protect you from it. I can’t bear to see anyone hurt you, Isla. Not even you."

I swing my gaze up to his face. He’s watching me carefully, an expression I can’t fathom on his face.

"Do you see me, Liam?" I point to my bald head. "This is who I am."

"I know who you are, LadyBird," he says gently.

I blink. This is not making any sense. He should be upset with me for hiding this from him. He should be angry that the woman he married is less than perfect. That the possible mother of his child is someone who lives with this condition.

"No, I mean do you really see me?"

"I’ve seen only you from the moment I set eyes on you."

I search his features. Those gray eyes of his are the clearest I’ve ever seen them, like the surface of a lagoon where the water is so still you can see all the way to the depths below.

Like fish darting below the surface, blue and green sparks streak through his irises.

His pupils expand and his nostrils flare. He desires me.

He still desires me, even after what I told him? Nope, it’s not possible. It’s my mind playing tricks on me. More likely, he despises me. His emotions haven’t caught up to his logical mind and what he’s seeing in front of him. Or perhaps, he’s just being polite. That’s all this is.

"Liam, I’m bald." I wince even as I hear myself. Turns out, even after my big reveal, I’m not used to saying the words aloud.

"And you’re even more beautiful than before."

"Don’t you want to know why I’m like this?"

"I already know."

I blink. "What did you say?"

"I told you I had you investigated before I asked you to marry me. I’ve known for a while that you have alopecia."

Of all the things he could have told me, this is the one thing I didn’t anticipate.

"You… you knew?" I grip the straps of my bag. "How did you—" I stiffen. “So, that’s what you meant when you told me that you knew everything about me, even whatever it was that I hadn’t told you?”

“That slipped through without my intending it to.” He looks between my eyes. “I wanted it to be you who told me about your condition. I wanted you to trust me enough to share your deepest secrets with me.”

“That’s why you told me about being taken and held prisoner when you were a teen?”

He hesitates. “No, that happened naturally. I felt I could trust you, and I wanted you to realize that you could trust me. Afterward, I hoped that opening up to you about my past would encourage you to do the same.”

“And all this time I was so stressed about how to share the details of my condition with you.”

He opens his mouth to answer, and I raise my hand. "No, don’t tell me. I should have known you’d find out about it. You probably found out about my visits to the doctor and the wig store.

When he doesn’t reply, I know I’m right.

"That’s such an invasion of my privacy."

"You knew what you were signing up for when you said you’d marry me."

He’s right. I knew I was going to have my personal life picked apart by the media.

I had to live with the fact that, not only did I have to tell Liam, but also, at any moment the media could find out about it, and that would be even worse.

It’s why I needed to control the narrative.

It’s why I wanted to take the initiative and share it with the world first.

But the fact that he knew it all along and he didn’t tell me? I can’t get my head around it. I swallow down the ball of emotion that seems to have taken up permanent residence in my throat.

"Damn, but you’re a fine actor, aren’t you? You didn’t even let slip once that you knew. Not a hint."

"That’s not true. I kept giving you openings to tell me. I told you you could trust me, that I’d protect you. I wanted you to share it with me of your own accord. And to be honest, it wasn’t a big deal to me. And I didn’t want you to think it was."

He reaches for me, and I step back. "Don’t. Don’t touch me, Liam."

"Isla, please give me a chance to explain."

"There’s nothing to explain. You look like that, and I look like this. I will not be pitied by you, or by anyone else. I will not have people compare the two of us and be found lacking."

"You could never be lacking in anything, baby. You’re the most courageous, most vital, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met."

"That’s not what I see when I look in the mirror."

"That’s what I see. Why can’t you allow yourself to see what I see? You are not your hair, Isla."

I laugh. I can’t help it. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve repeated those words to myself in the mirror. And remained unable to believe it. And here is this man, throwing it in my face, as if it’s a simple matter-of-fact realization.

"How would you know what I am or not?"

I fold my arms about my waist. "We barely know each other enough. Sure, the sex is great—more than great, actually, if I’m being honest. And your kinks are something that adds an unexpected spice to our relationship. But other than that, you don’t really know me."

"I know enough," he murmurs.

"I hid this from you."

"You were hiding it from yourself. I knew you were courageous enough to face what you are in the mirror. I had a sense that, perhaps one day, you’d want to go public with it, too. For yourself. To own who you are to the world."

"Stop—" I hold up my hand. "Don’t second guess me, Liam."

"Isla, baby, I’m trying to help."

"Well, don’t. This is something I’ve faced on my own so far. And maybe you were the trigger that convinced me it was time to come out to the world. But that’s where it stops. After this, surely, you don’t want to be with me."

"There’s no one else I can see myself with."

"I… I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. "What if I decide I don’t want to have any children, after all?"

"Then I accept it."

"It’ll endanger your chances of getting ownership of your company and your trust fund."

"I can do without it."