Page 54 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

Liam didn’t meet my eyes.

And that was… it.

Someone was going to die for pounding on my apartment door at nine in the morning.

I groaned, facedown in my pillow, body screaming in protest. The shoot had gone on until three in the morning because Yash kept flubbing his lines. Take after take after take, and I had to stand there, pretending to be in love with him while wanting to throttle him.

After we had wrapped up, he looked at my engagement ring and laughed. “Looks a bit cheap, doesn’t it? I would have gotten you something better.”

“This is my grandma’s ring, you jerk,” I snapped back before I could stop myself. “Liam knows me better than you ever did in our entire relationship.”

The words had hung in the air as I left him gaping at me. Because I had never talked to him like that until then.

And now someone was still knocking, and I was going to commit murder.

I stumbled out of bed, wearing my banana-print pajama pants and a thin tank top, my hair wrapped in a silk bonnet.

I yanked open the door.

Liam stood there, looking annoyingly handsome in sunglasses and a fitted t-shirt that showed off his arms. He pushed past me without waiting for an invitation.

“Cute pajamas.”

“What the hell are you⁠—”

He whistled, already prowling through my apartment, picking up my teacup collection and examining the vintage convertible keys I kept on a hook but never used.

“Liam! What are you doing here?”

He turned, grinning. “Did you read the contract?”

I blinked, brain still foggy from exhaustion. “Yes?”

“Did you sign it?”

“Yes, but what’s that got to do with you⁠—”

“Good,” he said, kissing my forehead and then bent down. “I’m legally kidnapping you.”

Before I could process the words, he lifted me over his shoulder in one smooth move.

“LIAM! PUT ME DOWN!”

He didn’t. He just walked toward the door, my body bouncing with each step, his hand firm on the back of my thighs.

“This is an assault! This is—ugh, put me DOWN! NOW!”

He started down the stairs since the elevator had broken again, and I smacked his back repeatedly. All I was met with was strong, solid muscle, and he didn’t even budge once.

Fuck him and his fuck-ass swimmer build!

“I’m calling the police!”

“And tell them what? That your fiancé picked you up?”

I pinched his ass. Hard.

He stopped and finally, he was going to put me down⁠—