Papers scattered.

The room went deadly silent.

Tyler groaned, spitting blood onto the pristine floor as he slowly pushed himself up, rubbing his jaw.

“Damn, Blake,” he muttered, still smirking through the pain. “You’ve still got that fire.”

Liam stood over him, chest heaving, his fists clenched and ready to strike again.

“Stay away from my wife!” he roared, his voice reverberating through the glass walls.

Tyler’s tongue grazed his split lip as he slowly got to his feet, still maintaining that infuriating calm.

“So, you’ve found out, huh?” he said, brushing dust off his designer suit. “Didn’t expect anything less from you.”

Liam’s breathing was harsh, every muscle in...