Chapter 58: Birthday Rush
Liam’s POV
Two days had passed since the board meeting, and the knot of tension in my shoulders had only tightened. Sleep eluded me, leaving me staring at the ceiling of my bedroom until the early hours, mind churning with strategies and countermoves. When I finally did drift off, my dreams were filled with faceless accusers and crumbling empires.
The insistent buzz of my phone dragged me back to consciousness. I reached for it blindly, squinting at the screen. A calendar notification glowed back at me: "BIRTHDAY - 40 YEARS."
I stared at it for a long moment before dismissing it with an aggressive swipe. My birthday. The reminder felt almost mocking—what exactly was I supposed to celebrate? Another year of watching everything I’d built teeter on the brink of collapse? The fact that at Fourty, my marriage was in shambles, my best friend wouldn’t speak to me, and my position at my own company hung by a thread?
Happy fucking birthday to me.
I tossed the phone aside and dragged myself out of bed. The house felt cavernous and empty without Diane, though I’d never admit that to anyone, least of all myself. Her absence had left a void that seemed to follow me from room to room, a persistent reminder of failure.
Under the shower’s scalding spray, I mentally rehearsed the day ahead. Three client calls, a marketing presentation to review, and a strategy session with the development team. Routine tasks that once energized me now felt like weights dragging me down. But I couldn’t afford to show weakness, not with Guerrero’s warning still ringing in my ears.
"Focus on the company, or we’ll be forced to reconsider leadership."
I dressed with care, selecting a navy Armani suit that Diane had once said brought out my eyes. The thought came unbidden, and I pushed it away with a flash of irritation. I didn’t need her approval. I didn’t need anyone’s.
The house staff had left a small breakfast spread in the kitchen—avocado toast, fresh fruit, and a cappuccino. No birthday acknowledgment, which was exactly as I preferred it. My housekeeper, knew better than to make a fuss. Unlike the office staff, who insisted on celebrating every milestone with nauseating enthusiasm, complete with sheet cake from the grocery store and off-key singing in the conference room.
My lip curled at the thought. With any luck, they’d forgotten this year. The last thing I needed was to stand there with a plastic smile while they gawked at me like some zoo animal.