The formal brunch at the main Asher estate continued under a blanket of stilted conversation and Tanya Sharma's passive-aggressive remarks. Piya, still reeling from Liam's amended contract and his chilling whisper, managed to stand tall beside him, enduring the scrutiny of Adrian Asher, who clearly saw her as a temporary annoyance.
As Liam engaged in a dry corporate discussion with his father, Piya felt a sudden, gentle pressure on her arm. She turned to find a woman standing beside her—beautiful, silver-haired, with kind eyes that held none of the Asher coldness. She was dressed elegantly, but her expression was one of genuine, unassuming warmth.
"Hello, dear," the woman said, her voice soft and melodious. "You must be Piya. I'm Alia Asher—Liam's mother."
Piya felt a rush of surprise and relief. Liam's mother was nothing like the intimidating figures she'd met moments before.
"Mrs. Asher," Piya stammered, offering a shaky smile. "It's an honor."
Alia squeezed her hand lightly, her touch comforting. "Oh, please, call me Alia. And the honor is ours. Truly." She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "Forgive the… atmosphere. My husband is rather accustomed to having things his way. And Tanya is simply heartbroken, but she'll survive."
The casual, genuine acknowledgment of the tension instantly relaxed Piya. "It's... a lot to take in," Piya admitted honestly, feeling she could trust this woman immediately.
Alia smiled warmly. "I can imagine. My son is not known for making gentle choices. He's all storms and steel, isn't he? But Piya, let me tell you a secret: I have known Liam since the day he was born. He has always held his true feelings very close. If he has chosen you, there is a very deep, quiet reason for it, no matter what he pretends."
Alia gently guided Piya away from the main group toward a quiet sitting area decorated with soft, colorful textiles—a stark contrast to the severe marble of the rest of the house.
"Come, tell me about your home," Alia suggested. "Liam told my father about your simple, warm house. He hasn't stopped talking about the feeling of 'home' your family created."
Piya blinked, stunned. Liam had mentioned her house? To his grandfather? She found herself relaxing and describing her parents, the small garden, and the daily ritual of evening tea. Alia listened intently, nodding and smiling, her focus entirely on Piya.
"That's beautiful," Alia said when Piya finished. "You see, Liam grew up in places like this," she gestured around the cavernous room, "but they were always buildings, never homes. His life has been too controlled, too structured by his father's ambition. He needs softness, Piya. He needs that warmth you carry."
Alia reached across the small table and took both of Piya's hands in hers. "I want you to know something. I support this. Not because of the Asher legacy, but because I have watched my son for years, walled off and alone. You are the first person who has startled him out of his perfection. You bring something real. Don't let my husband or Tanya break that spirit. You are his wife now—you are family, and I will be there for you."
Piya's eyes welled up. In this cold, terrifying new reality, Alia Asher was the first ray of genuine kindness. "Thank you, Alia," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Their quiet moment was interrupted by the stern voice of Adrian Asher calling for his wife. Alia squeezed Piya's hands one last time.
"Go back to Liam now. Remember: hold your ground." She paused, her smile fading slightly, replaced by a look of serious concern. "And one more thing, dear. Be very cautious around Adrian. His true ambition is to merge our company with Tanya's family firm. He will try to make you fail, subtly. Don't give him an opening."
As Piya rose to rejoin Liam, she saw him watching her. He stood apart from the others, his expression unreadable, but his eyes were focused entirely on her interaction with his mother. When their eyes met, Liam gave the slightest, almost imperceptible nod—a rare gesture of acknowledgement, perhaps even gratitude, for the brief peace she had brought his mother.
When Piya reached his side, Liam immediately re-laced his fingers with hers, his grip tight and possessive. He presented her to the room once more, now less as an introduction and more as a silent, unwavering declaration of ownership.
"We must leave now," Liam announced to the group, his voice cutting short his father's tedious lecture. "Piya and I have plans to view the main marital suite this afternoon, as we will be moving in tonight."
Piya's heart hammered against her ribs. Moving in tonight. The shared room was no longer a theoretical contract clause; it was an immediate reality.
Tanya's face tightened into a furious mask. Adrian Asher merely scoffed. "Such haste, Liam. I hope your little bride understands the meaning of propriety."
"She will learn," Liam replied, his eyes dark, resting briefly on Piya's face. "She is a fast learner."
With that chilling promise, Liam led Piya out, leaving the stunned gathering behind. The contrast between his public declaration of 'viewing the suite' and the reality of their cold, business arrangement created an agonizing tension. Piya knew the walls of that marital suite would not just hold them; they would imprison them together.