The silence in the penthouse was heavy.
After the chaos Lena stirred with the lawsuit, after the flashes of cameras and the taste of betrayal still hanging in the air, Ava needed a moment to breathe. To feel. To remind herself she wasn't alone in this mess.
She stood on the balcony, wind teasing her robe, her thoughts spinning. Behind her, Jace stepped out, his shirt sleeves rolled up, hair tousled, expression softer than usual.
"You should be resting," he said gently.
She didn't turn. "I can't. Everything feels like it's falling apart."
He moved closer. "No. Everything's just starting to fall into place."
Ava turned then, her eyes meeting his.
"You still believe that?"
Jace reached for her hand. "I believe in us."
His words cracked something inside her. She let him pull her closer until her body pressed against his chest, their breaths syncing in the moonlit silence.
He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek, letting his fingers linger there.
"I hate seeing you hurt," he murmured.
"Then don't leave," she whispered. "Not now. Not tonight."
He didn't.
Their lips met slowly, tentatively. A question. A promise. And when she leaned in deeper, he answered with a hunger that had been simmering for too long.
Jace kissed her like she was the air he needed to breathe. His hands slid up her back, pulling her in, grounding them both. Ava melted into him, her hands gripping the back of his neck, holding him like she was afraid the moment would disappear.
The kiss deepened—hot, urgent. She gasped as he lifted her in his arms, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. He carried her inside, past the soft lights and into the bedroom, lips never leaving hers.
He laid her down with reverence, like she was made of light and glass. The robe slipped from her shoulders, and his breath caught at the sight of her.
"You're beautiful," he said, voice hoarse with emotion.
She pulled him down to her. "Then show me."
His mouth traced a path down her neck, slow and reverent, igniting fires across her skin. Every kiss, every touch was deliberate. Like he was memorizing her, worshipping her. She arched into him, her breath catching with every graze of his lips.
His hands slid over her waist, thumbs brushing the curve of her hips. Her skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve alive under his touch. Her fingers dug into his back as he trailed kisses down her collarbone, her chest, each one slower than the last, like he was savoring her reactions.
He whispered her name like a prayer. Ava trembled beneath him—not from fear, but anticipation.
"I want all of you," she whispered. "Every part you've hidden. Every piece you're afraid to give."
"You already have me," he said, pressing a kiss just above her heart. "All of me."
Their clothes became a distant memory, scattered on the floor like forgotten armor. His fingers traced down the length of her body, slow and patient, setting her on fire with each pass. Her breath hitched as he reached the dip of her waist, trailing soft kisses downward. Her fingers tangled in his hair as he worshiped her with his mouth, his tongue drawing out sounds from her lips she never knew she could make.
She arched, gasping his name, hands grasping at the sheets. He watched her unravel, his eyes never leaving hers. And when he finally entered her, it was with a slowness that made her cry out from the intensity—not of pain, but of how deeply she felt him.
Their rhythm built—slow at first, like a melody only they knew. Then faster, desperate, aching. Ava clung to him as they moved together, heart and soul meeting where skin touched.
Each thrust was a confession.
Each gasp a declaration.
Each whisper of each other's name a vow.
"Look at me," he said, cupping her cheek.
She opened her eyes and saw everything—the man, the pain, the love, the need.
"I'm yours," she whispered. "Even if this ends… even if we break… right now, I'm yours."
"It's never ending," he said. "We're real. You and me."
Their bodies shook as pleasure took over. Ava cried out, clinging to him as waves crashed through her, and Jace held her like a man drowning in her.
And in that moment, everything else disappeared.
There was no lawsuit. No media. No contracts.
Just the echo of their breathing, the heat of their skin, and the feel of two broken hearts mending as one.
Later, they lay tangled together, her leg draped over his, his fingers tracing slow circles on her back.
"Promise me we'll survive this," she said, voice raw.
"We already are."
She looked up. "Then don't let go."
"I never will."
She buried her face in his neck, breathing him in.
Outside, the wind picked up. But inside, they had never been more grounded.