Chapter 10: Can I coax you?

“Did you do that on purpose?” she asked, her tone cautious.

“What do you mean, on purpose?” The wheels of his chair creaked as he moved a little closer.

“Liam…” Amelia shifted her gaze, then casually tossed the folded tissue into a trash bin with precision. “You heard what they said, right?”

Liam nodded. “I did.”

But the look in his eyes wasn’t what she’d expected. No anger. Just a calm she couldn’t understand.

That calmness—that acceptance—made something coil inside her, tight and cold. It wasn’t pity. It was something stranger, more visceral. He was nothing like her when it came to this kind of humiliation.

She thought of the legs hidden beneath that blanket, of him bracing against her car, trying to stand earlier. The emotion rising in her chest made it hard to breathe.

“If you’re uncomfortable,” she said, voice low, “then go home. Rest. Where’s your car? I’ll take you.”

She started to move behind him, but Liam stopped her. “Are you mad at me?”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked that today.

Amelia crouched in front of him. Their perspective shifted. She looked up at him now.

“No,” she said, “I’m not angry.”

“You are.” His voice was soft. “Maybe not right this second, but you were angry just now. Right?”

“…Yeah.” Amelia didn’t deny it. “So what if I was? What would you do about it?”

Liam leaned forward slightly in his chair. His face was close now. “Then… can I coax you?”

Amelia raised an eyebrow at him. Her lips curved. “I thought you said you were uncomfortable again.”

The golden-orange light from the nearby lantern cast a glow between them. It softened their edges, painting them in warmth.

They held each other’s gaze under that quiet light, the world around them fading. No more whispers, no more insults—just the thrum of blood and breath, something alive and unspoken pulsing in the silence between them.

......

After dropping Liam off at his car, Amelia returned to the private room.

It was still noisy inside. Charles had drunk too much and could barely stand, his body swaying like a tree in the wind. He had an arm thrown around Maverick, using him for balance.

Maverick was the only one sober—he hadn’t touched a drop all night.

Amelia leaned against the doorway, arms folded across her chest, watching the chaos with a faint smile tugging at her lips.

Some of the people inside had grown up with her. Others had bled beside her on the battlefield. It was laughter and brotherhood.

And yet, all she could see in her mind was the silhouette of a man in a wheelchair, rolling quietly into the night.

In one day, after two contacts, Amelia knew that he was not what he appeared to be. He was able to come back despite so many people's obstruction, and it was not just because of her identity as Amelia's fiancé.

She also didn't believe that General Colton, who had once made great achievements in the war, really raised a junior who could only sit in a wheelchair and wait to be manipulated and laughed at.

Her thoughts had drifted again. Some things were like a fuse—once sparked, they set off a chain reaction. No matter how much the Langley family had changed, she couldn't afford to let her guard down.

“Captain,” Maverick called out. He was the only one still sober.

Pulled from her thoughts, Amelia sighed and walked over. “I’ll handle it.”

She reached out to grab Charles, who had latched onto Maverick with both hands and feet like a sloth. But as soon as her fingers brushed his sleeve, she paused. Then, without a word, she stepped back and pulled out her phone.

Maverick frowned. “Captain?”

“Smile,” Amelia said.

Though clearly confused, Maverick followed the order. He flashed a stiff, half-hearted grin.

In contrast, Charles—despite being three sheets to the wind—instantly straightened up the second the camera was pointed his way. He flashed a full smile and even threw up a hand sign.

“You were born for this shit,” Amelia muttered with a helpless chuckle as she snapped several photos in a row before finally pocketing her phone and stepping in to help.

As she lifted him, Charles caught a whiff of her familiar scent. His eyes fluttered open just a crack, and the next second, he was wrapping both arms tightly around her neck, giggling like a fool right next to her ear.

“I knew you took a sneaky pic of me. Heh... what, were you mesmerized by my stunning good looks?”

With one arm braced around his waist to keep them both balanced, Amelia deadpanned, “Yes. Your overwhelming beauty nearly blinded me. Happy now?”

Still half-coaxing, she waved her free hand at Maverick, signaling him to gather the others and get moving.

One by one, the drunken group staggered out, laughing and stumbling their way to the exit.

......

Outside the restaurant, Amelia immediately spotted the McLaren—and the man leaning against it.

Still half-carrying Charles, who was snorting into her ear, she murmured, “Tyson’s here.”

The laughing stopped.

Charles straightened up, his entire posture shifting. He stared silently at the man now walking toward them.

“Charles. Come home with me.” Tyson’s voice was steady as he reached out his hand. His tone, and the way he looked at Charles, made it clear to everyone watching: This Omega is mine.

The Alpha’s dominance and possessiveness weren’t masked at all. His pheromones spread like a current, thick in the air.

Charles winced. “Seriously? Use pheromones to pressure me?”

Tyson stepped closer. Charles instinctively stepped back.

“You’re drunk,” Tyson said simply.

“I am drunk,” Charles admitted. “Which is why I’m going home with Amelia.”

“She doesn’t seem all that interested in taking care of you,” Tyson replied, eyes narrowing slightly.

And as if on cue, a sleek black car pulled up near the sidewalk. It rolled to a stop, and the back door swung open—slow and smooth.

Inside sat a man.

Knox and the others immediately tensed up. Their eyes darted between the car and their captain.

“Who is that?” Victoria asked, voice low, puzzled.

James raised a brow and reached out to flick her on the neck. “If I’m not mistaken, that’s our captain’s fiancé.”

Victoria’s eyes widened as she leaned forward for a better look. “But… he doesn’t look anything like the rumors said.”

According to gossip, Liam was a cripple—frail, weak, pathetic.

But sitting there now, even in the dim light of night, he looked nothing like that. Sure, he was seated, but everything else about him—the line of his jaw, the sharpness in his gaze, the aura he carried—screamed strength.

“People really do talk shit,” Victoria muttered.

James ruffled her hair with a grin. “Next time, stop following Knox around for those stupid rumors.”

Victoria protested with a furious shake of her head. Beside her, Knox—equally exasperated—shook his head too.

Charles also saw the man sitting in the car. He grabbed onto his friend’s arm and pouted, “Are you going to abandon me now?”

Amelia raised a brow. “Are you sure you don’t want to go with Tyson?”

“No.” Charles tightened his grip on her arm. “I want to sleep with you tonight.”

The second those words left his mouth, every head nearby turned in unison—except for Maverick, who immediately looked down, pretending he didn’t hear a thing.

Knox’s inner gossip demon practically burst into flames. His eyes lit up. “I just got back, and already I’m witnessing drama like this? Totally worth it!”

“This is it, right? A classic love triangle?” Victoria looked up at her teammates and asked eagerly, “I got it right this time, didn’t I? Right, James?”

James didn’t answer. Instead, he rubbed her head again, like he was petting a confused puppy.

“Maverick,” Amelia called.

The man who’d been trying to blend into the shadows like wallpaper flinched, then slowly walked over. “Captain?”

Amelia gently pushed Charles toward him. “Take him to the car. I’ll join you in a minute.”

Maverick eyed the drunken man now standing too close in front of him and instinctively took half a step back.

“You take another step back and see what happens,” Charles warned, his tone threatening—but his eyes were soft, almost flirtatious.

Maverick couldn’t meet his gaze. He looked away, still trying to pull back.

But Charles gripped the front of his well-worn jacket and closed the gap between them.

Rising slightly onto his toes, Charles leaned closer as if to whisper something—then swayed.

“Careful!” Maverick reacted instantly, steadying him with a hand at his lower back just before Charles toppled backward.

Charles used the moment to lean in even more, pressing himself into Maverick’s chest. “Why are you so damn tall?” he murmured, clearly drunk now, his eyes fluttering shut.

Feeling Maverick inch away again, Charles half-opened one eye and muttered lazily, “If you move one more step, I’ll tear your clothes off. Just like last time.”

“Charles!” Maverick hissed, his voice low and sharp.

Charles only smirked, his eyes glistening with mischief. “What, no more pretending?”

“What the hell are you trying to do?”

“Take me away from here,” Charles replied casually. Then he added, with a crooked grin, “Or I’ll tell everyone that you’re—”

He didn’t get to finish.

Maverick wrapped an arm tightly around his waist and started walking him toward the jeep.

“Charles!” Tyson shouted, stepping forward.

Amelia moved between them in a flash, blocking Tyson’s path. “Don’t. You’ll just push him further away.”

“But—”

“You’re still the same,” Amelia said, patting his shoulder lightly, her tone no longer stern. “Are you going to treat me like a threat now too?”

Her words were half-joking, but Tyson’s face had darkened.

His expression twisted through several emotions in just a few seconds—anger, restraint. He smiled tightly at her. “Fine. I’ll pick him up in the morning.”

Amelia didn’t answer. “You can come. But the choice is his.”

“He’ll come with me,” Tyson said, full of conviction.

Then, without another word, he glanced once more at the jeep before turning and walking away.

Amelia watched him go, letting out a slow breath. She had no idea if what she did tonight was the right thing.

A gust of wind blew past, sharp and cool, sobering her slightly.

She turned to the others—who were very clearly eavesdropping, half-hiding behind a parked car, heads all sticking out.

“Seen enough?” she called.

They jolted upright like guilty students caught cheating.

“Captain, we didn’t see anything! Didn’t hear a thing either!” Knox blurted out.

“Good,” Amelia said. “Let’s go home.”