Ava stepped out of the car onto Easton's stone-paved driveway, the soft hum of traffic buzzing in the distance. The city looked the same—rushed, polished, indifferent—but she didn't feel like the same woman who had left it a few days ago.
She was steadier now.
More in control.
The quiet in Long Island had done something to her. Being away from the noise, away from the pressure, had reminded her that she wasn't built from trauma or resentment. She had power before the revenge. She still did.
The front doors opened before she reached them. Marla greeted her with a stack of folders and a tight smile.
"You've been missed," she said.
"Missed or whispered about?" Ava asked.
Marla gave a small shrug. "A little of both."
Figures.
Ava didn't bother with small talk. She headed straight to her office, dropped her bag on the couch, and scanned the room. Everything was as she left it. Unmoved. Untouched.
But she could already feel the tension gathering again like static in the air.
She had just sat down when her phone buzzed.
Julian.
"Made it back safe?"
"Just walked in."
"Good. We should talk later. No pressure."
She stared at the screen for a moment, thumbs hovering, then finally typed:
"Okay. Let me get through the day first."
She set the phone aside.
Then she took a deep breath.
She wasn't going to fall back into old patterns.
She was going to set the tone now.
Starting with the meeting she didn't want but needed to face.
The elevator to the Blackwood Holdings floor opened slowly, the metal doors parting like a curtain Ava wasn't ready to step through. But she walked in anyway.
Damien's assistant looked up, clearly startled to see her.
"Miss Sinclair."
"I don't have an appointment," Ava said. "But he'll see me."
The assistant hesitated only a second before picking up the phone. After a short exchange, she nodded.
"Go right in."
Ava opened the door without knocking.
Damien was at his desk, sleeves rolled up, collar undone, a half-drunk cup of coffee next to him.
He stood the second he saw her.
"You're back."
"You left a message."
"I wasn't expecting a response this fast."
"I wasn't expecting it to stay in my head for three days either."
He motioned toward the chair across from him. "Sit."
She didn't.
Instead, she crossed her arms and stared at him.
"Do you mean it?" she asked.
Damien blinked. "The message?"
"All of it."
He nodded slowly. "Every word."
She let the silence sit a moment.
Then said, "I believe you. But that doesn't mean I know what to do with it."
"I don't want you to do anything," he said. "Not yet."
Ava moved closer to the desk, finally lowering herself into the chair. "I need you to be honest with me."
"I've been trying."
"Try harder," she said. "Because the closer I get to the truth, the more I feel like someone's holding pieces back."
Damien leaned forward.
"What are you really asking?"
"Is there anything else I don't know? Anything that'll blindside me if I keep moving forward with you?"
He didn't speak for a long time.
Finally, he said, "There are things I haven't told you. Not because I want to lie—but because I haven't figured out how to protect you from them."
Ava exhaled sharply. "Stop saying you're trying to protect me."
His gaze darkened. "Fine. Then I'll tell you when you're ready to hear what you've spent ten years trying to avoid."
"What's that?"
"That your father wasn't just a man caught in a bad deal. He was part of one."
Ava's stomach dropped.
Damien stood now, walking to the window, the skyline behind him glowing faintly in the afternoon light.
"I'll tell you everything," he said. "But not here. Not now."
"Then when?"
He turned around. "When you're ready to stop protecting your version of him the way I tried to protect mine."
She stood, anger and pain tightening in her chest.
But she didn't storm out.
She just nodded once.
And left.
Back at Easton, Ava buried herself in reports. Numbers. Strategy. Work she used to love. But none of it stuck.
Her mind kept drifting—back to Damien's face, Julian's quiet hands, her father's photo on the wall in the Long Island house.
She needed air.
She stepped out into the hallway and took the back stairs down to the side entrance.
As she pushed the door open, a movement across the street caught her eye.
A man.
Standing near the corner. Tall, black coat, face partly hidden by a cap.
He turned the moment she looked at him and walked away.
Fast.
Too fast.
Ava frowned.
There were thousands of people in the city. But something about his timing felt… wrong.
She made a mental note and returned inside.
That night, she sat in her apartment with a glass of wine and her journal on her lap, flipping through headlines and old email drafts she never sent.
Then her phone rang.
Julian.
She let it ring twice before answering.
"Hey."
"I know it's late," he said. "But can I come up?"
She paused.
Then: "Yeah. I'm home."
He brought coffee.
Not flowers.
Not wine.
Just something warm.
He sat across from her on the couch like it was second nature.
They didn't speak for a few minutes.
Then Julian said, "You okay?"
"Getting there."
He nodded.
"I heard about your visit to Blackwood today."
Ava arched a brow. "From who?"
"I still have friends in the building."
"Spying on me now?"
"No," he said. "Worried about you."
She set the coffee down.
Then looked at him carefully.
"I saw someone today. Across from Easton. Watching the building. He left the second I noticed."
Julian stiffened slightly. "Do you think it was random?"
"I don't know," she said. "But I don't want it to be nothing."
Julian's jaw clenched. "You want me to find out?"
"Not yet," she said. "I just wanted to say it out loud."
He nodded, eyes soft. "Then I'll stay quiet. For now."
They sat in silence again.
This time it felt heavier.
Not uncomfortable. But filled with something unspoken.
She finally said, "I missed having you near."
Julian looked at her.
"You still can."
"I know."
She leaned back into the cushions, her heart calmer now.
No decisions tonight.
But for now?
She wasn't alone.