All Chapters of DANGEROUS LIAISONS: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

FORT’S POVThere was something weighing heavily on my chest—an anger that felt more like a simmering rage than just simple annoyance. I hated being ignored. It wasn’t the kind of cold dislike that stung; it was the complete erasure of my presence that set my teeth on edge. As the clock ticked toward noon, my mood spiraled deeper into a foul state that would have sent warning signals to anyone within arm's reach. But, looking around the conference room, I could tell that not a soul dared to comment on my demeanor, and honestly, they were wise not to. With a tight jaw, I stared down at my phone for what had to be the tenth time in less than twenty minutes. Not a single notification lit up the screen. No messages. No missed calls. Just an empty void where I had expected to see at least some acknowledgment from Elon. Ridiculous, really. Last night, it had felt as if he’d melted into my embrace, a captivating warmth that made sense of everything. But now, the morning had cast a differen

ELON’S POV“It wasn’t intentional.”Mia repeated the phrase like a mantra, her voice tinged with desperation, as if the more she said it, the lighter the weight of the catastrophe might become. Unfortunately, real life didn’t work that way; slogans offered no solace in the face of consequences.I stood rigidly at the foot of the bed, my gaze fixed on her, attempting to conjure up the depths of patience required to navigate the storm created by her easily avoidable blunder. It was proving to be an uphill battle.From the doorway, Laila leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, exuding an air of calm that was completely at odds with the grave turmoil threatening to engulf Mia’s career.“Intentional or not,” she remarked dryly, her voice dripping with sardonic clarity, “the result is still the same.”Mia shot her a glare so sharp it could cut glass.“You are not helping,” she hissed through clenched teeth.“No,” Laila replied nonchalantly. “That would be Elon.”I let out a resigne

ELON's POVWithout thinking, I picked it up.Actually, maybe.The absurdity of it nearly made me laugh.In the span of ten minutes, my evening had somehow managed to implode and improve simultaneously.Remarkable.Dimitri noticed the shift in my expression.He frowned slightly. “Bad time?”I looked up at him, phone still in hand.“You have no idea.”ELON’S POVBy the time I arrived, the building was nearly empty.The receptionist downstairs had barely looked up as I crossed the lobby, and the elevator ride to Fort’s floor was so quiet it felt almost theatrical.Too serene.It was enough to make me reconsider why I had agreed to come at all.The answer, annoyingly, was simple.Because he had asked.Not demanded.Not summoned.He only asked.That distinction mattered more than I wanted it to.When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out into the dimly lit executive corridor and headed toward his office.His door was partially open.I knocked lightly against the frame before stepping i

DIMITRI’S POVI woke up before my alarm, which was already a bad sign.There are mornings when your body moves before your mind catches up, when routine carries you through the motions even though something inside you refuses to settle. That was how I felt as I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone like it might explain itself.It didn’t.No reply.Just silence where Laila should have been.I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face. The worst part wasn’t that she hadn’t responded. It was what I had expected her to be. That alone annoyed me more than I wanted to admit.I got ready for work in silence, my thoughts refusing to stay in one place. Every time I tried to focus on something practical—my schedule, the meetings ahead—my mind slid back to the message I had sent her the night before.Concise. Controlled. Safe enough to deny meaning.Except nothing about Laila ever stayed safe for long.By the time I arrived at the office, I already felt behind on a race I hadn’t agr

ELON’S POVHe was doing it again.That impossibly calm expression rested on his face like a mask, unyielding and serene. His voice, smooth and controlled, danced off the walls of my living room as he stood there, perfectly poised, as if every word had been meticulously measured, filtered, and approved for release. It was infuriating.Not because he was wrong. That was the crux of the issue.He was usually right—sharp and insightful in ways that cut deeper than I'd like to admit. Somehow, that only exacerbated the situation, sharpening my irritation.I folded my arms tighter across my chest, a futile defense against the urge to push him back out my front door and slam it shut. “You don’t get to do this,” I said, my voice laced with tension.Fort's expression didn't waver; his face was a granite mask. “Do what?” he asked, his tone flat, infuriatingly calm.I let out a humorless laugh that echoed in the stillness of the room—an echo of self-mockery. “That,” I said, gesturing at him wit