Chapter 156: Chapter 156 Ghost I

Liam didn’t spare a single thought for what he’d done to Daryl just hours ago. Not the shattered fingers. Not the blood-curdling scream. Not even the mutilated body he’d left for the world to find. That Chapter was over, buried in the night like a bad dream. His mind had moved on.

Instead, all his focus was now locked on one simple, deadly message that had popped up on his screen not long after sunrise:

“Get your ass over here!!!” – Lilith

That was it.

No explanation.

No emojis. No punctuation except for those three exclamation points, like gunshots at the end of a sentence.

He sighed quietly in the backseat of the cab, watching the city pass by. The streets were mostly quiet, with only early risers, joggers, and scattered delivery trucks giving the illusion of normalcy. But Liam’s mind wasn’t calm.

His heart wasn’t racing, but it wasn’t still either. He kept turning the possibilities over in his head like poker chips.

Was she going to talk about last night?

Their bodies intertwined.

Their breathless moans.

The look in her eyes as she gave herself to him for the first time.

The memory sparked something primal in him again, and he subtly shifted in his seat, clearing his throat.

Or maybe she regretted it?

That thought cut deeper than he liked. The sex had been incredible—not just physically, but emotionally. He wasn’t sure what it meant for either of them, but if she wanted to pretend it didn’t happen, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle that.

The cab pulled up outside the sleek, luxurious building Lilith called home. Liam stepped out, tossing a few bills to the driver without waiting for change. He adjusted his jacket and walked toward the entrance, his reflection faint in the black-glass doors.

Inside, the air smelled faintly of cinnamon and leather. The elevator greeted him with a soft chime as he stepped inside and hit the floor number.

As the elevator ascended, his mind kept racing.

Maybe she’s angry.

Maybe she feels exposed.

Maybe she just wants round two.

He smirked a little at that last thought, but it vanished as quickly as it came. He couldn’t afford to get cocky with Lilith. She wasn’t just any woman. She was his boss, his commander, the leader of the Black Lotus. A woman with beauty sharp enough to wound and power deep enough to drown a city.

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open with a soft hiss.

Liam walked down the hallway and stopped in front of her apartment door. He knocked once.

He was about to knock again when her voice echoed from inside, smooth and confident:

“Open.”

Click.

Liam blinked as the door unlocked with a soft mechanical sound and slowly opened inward on its own.

“What the hell…” he muttered under his breath. Since when did she get voice-activated doors?

It definitely wasn’t like that yesterday. He had a clear memory of manually opening and closing it.

He stepped in cautiously, eyeing the sleek panel on the wall near the frame. It must’ve been a new feature, either recently installed or just activated. Of course she’d have something like this.

The place smelled like lilac and dark wine, just like her. He followed the scent toward the open space ahead.

Lilith was behind her polished bar counter, her back slightly arched as she reached up toward the top shelf—stacked with expensive wine, rare whiskey bottles, and crystal decanters.

Her long, golden-blonde hair flowed down her back in soft waves, loose and slightly tousled, like she hadn’t yet brushed it. She was in her signature silky purple nightgown again, the fabric clinging to her body with almost no effort. It revealed far more than it hid.

“Morning,” Liam said casually, trying not to stare too hard. “Isn’t it a little early to start drinking?”

Lilith clicked her tongue, not bothering to look at him. “I’m not drinking, idiot. I’m trying to grab something on the shelf.”

He walked around the counter and looked up—spotting a small object on the top shelf.

With ease, he reached up and grabbed it: a simple metal nail cutter.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “If you knew it’d be hard to get down, why’d you put it up there in the first place?”

She turned slightly, resting her arm on the counter. “Because the last time I put it there, both my hands were working fine.”

Liam glanced at her right arm. The bandages were gone. The sling too. But the way she cradled it slightly when she moved told him everything—she was still hurting. It wasn’t fully healed yet.

He gave her a small smile. “You shouldn’t push it.”

“Cut my nails,” she said flatly, turning her back to him again and placing her hand on the counter.

He didn’t argue.

He walked behind her and picked up the cutter. As he carefully trimmed each nail, his eyes inevitably wandered. Her nightgown ended just at the top of her thighs. And beneath the soft, clinging fabric, her ass curved out like a dream sculpted in silk—firm, smooth, and perfectly shaped.

Slim thick.

It was the only way to describe her.

She wasn’t overly curvy like Ann, but every inch of her was flawless, toned and seductive in a way that made it hard to breathe.

He cleared his throat to distract himself. “So… why’d you call me?”

Lilith paused, her hand frozen in place.

Her voice dropped, low and sharp. “Stop clipping for a second.”

Liam did.

She turned her head slightly, eyes piercing into him like daggers.

“We need to talk.”

Just like that, the casual atmosphere vanished.

Liam stood behind her, still holding the cutter, heart now beating a little heavier.

Something was coming.

Something serious.

And he had a feeling it had nothing to do with sex.

Liam waited.

Lilith stood there, her back still half-turned to him, the purple silk of her nightgown catching the soft light pouring in from the wide balcony window. She hadn’t moved much since her cold words: We need to talk.

Her fingers rested idly on the counter now, her nails neatly trimmed thanks to him, but the tension between them had shifted from teasing and seductive to something heavier.

And yet… she still hadn’t said anything.

Liam tilted his head slightly, watching her closely. “So?” he asked.

Lilith slowly turned her body until she faced him fully. Her expression was unreadable—eyes narrowed ever so slightly, lips parted as though she were still tasting the words before letting them out.

“Where were you last night?” she finally asked.

That made Liam furrow his brows. So it is about last night… Was she about to bring up Daryl? Had someone seen something? Had she somehow seen what he’d done?

But before he could even open his mouth to respond, she continued.

“There was an attack on the Crimson Hand,” she said coolly. “During the night.”

Liam blinked.

That… wasn’t what he expected.

She wasn’t accusing—she was investigating.

She just wanted to know.

“Oh,” Liam muttered, leaning back a little. He let out a breath. “You thought I did it?”

Lilith raised an elegant brow at him, arms folding beneath her chest. “Did you?”

Liam gave a soft chuckle and shook his head. “No. Wasn’t me. I was busy with something else.”

She studied him for a moment, eyes scanning his face like a human lie detector. Then she gave a single nod. “Yeah… I figured.”

“Then why ask?”

“I needed to be sure,” she replied simply, turning and pouring herself a glass of water. “Because whoever did this… wasn’t normal.”

Liam’s curiosity piqued. He stepped around the counter to join her on the other side. “What happened?”

Lilith took a long sip, then set the glass down. “Someone infiltrated one of the Crimson Hand’s primary bases. Not a lab. Not a warehouse. Their actual headquarters.”

Liam’s brows furrowed deeper. Wait—

She glanced at him, her tone flat but laced with intrigue. “They killed nine of their members. Brutally. And then vanished without a trace.”

Liam blinked, stunned. “Wait… nine?”

Lilith nodded.

“Damn…” he muttered under his breath. “That’s insane. Did they catch the guy?”

“That’s the crazy part,” she said, folding her arms again. “No. They don’t even know who did it. There are no cameras, no evidence, and no survivors willing to talk. The whole place is locked down. But it’s confirmed—the person walked in… and walked out.”

Liam leaned back against the counter, arms crossed now. His expression had hardened. Something didn’t feel right.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he muttered. “I’ve been in their brothels. Their drug dens. Hell, even a couple guarded warehouses. But this? Their base? No one just walks in and walks out after killing nine people. That’s not possible.”

Lilith nodded slowly. “I thought the same thing.”

Her voice dropped a little lower. “That’s why I’ve called our guy.”

Liam turned to look at her. “Our guy?”

“Our mole inside the Crimson Hand. He was nearby during the attack. He’s been keeping his head down, but I’ve summoned him. He should be here within the hour.”

Liam gave a small nod, his mind still trying to piece things together. Who could’ve pulled off something like that? And why now?.

Lilith’s eyes were focused elsewhere now, her thoughts drifting to things she hadn’t said out loud. Liam could tell.

She hadn’t brought up their night together at all.

Not a word.

Not even a glance to suggest it had happened.

And that silence spoke louder than anything.

He sighed quietly, finishing the last nail on her left hand. They were side by side now—Lilith leaning slightly against the counter, Liam seated on the tall stool beside her, his arm brushing hers lightly. The silence stretched on.

Then, without thinking too hard about it—

Smack!

Lilith gasped audibly as the sharp sound of skin-on-silk echoed through the room. Her eyes snapped wide open, the sting of his hand on her perfect ass still fresh as her head whipped toward him.

She stared at him with disbelief.

Her lips parted.

But no words came out.

Just a glare that said: What the hell was that for?!

Liam, however, didn’t flinch.

In fact, he grinned.

That damned, cocky grin that made her heart twitch and her blood boil at the same time.

She was about to speak—whether to insult him, scold him, or slap him back, even she didn’t know—but Liam stood up in one smooth movement and pulled her by the waist, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat.

Their bodies pressed together. Her curves met his lean, muscular frame with perfect friction.

His voice dropped to a low murmur against her ear, rich and warm and impossibly confident.

“So… you’re not gonna talk about yesterday?”

Lilith’s breath hitched, just slightly.

Her hands were on his chest now, either to push him away—or hold him close.

Even she didn’t know which.

And as the warmth of his body seeped into her skin, as her eyes met those deep blue ones that made her heart stutter.

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