"Yes, yes, I'd send the private jet to you right now." David Cardwell's deep voice cracked mid-sentence as he clutched the receiver so tightly his knuckles whitened. A single drop of sweat rolled down his temple despite the room's arctic air conditioning.
She had reached out. His granddaughter had reached out. The photograph on his desk of Eleanor as a teenager, all sunshine smiles and windswept hair, seemed to glow in the afternoon light. When the investigator had first delivered the news that Eleanor had survived the accident and even had a child, David's chest had swelled with a hope he hadn't felt in decades. But that hope withered when the next words came: Eleanor herself was already gone, buried in a cemetery across the country without him ever knowing. His precious baby. Gone. Not even a chance to brush his fingers against her cheek one last time or whisper goodbye. But she had left something behind. Someone. Ava. David's hand trembled as he pressed the receiver closer, drinking in every syllable of his granddaughter's voice. The calendar on his desk was marked with red X's...26 days since he'd discovered her existence, 26 nights of staring at his ceiling, imagining her face. "Oh, you want a car instead?" He closed his eyes as something sharp twisted in his chest. "I see, you went to visit your mother's grave first." He pushed himself up from his leather chair and wandered to the floor-to-ceiling window. Sixty stories below, the city sprawled like a circuit board, tiny cars crawling between glass towers that he in his lifetime of boardrooms and acquisitions had helped build. "I'll arrange everything and send a driver there immediately." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "Welcome home, Ava and... thank you." The line went dead with a soft click. David turned around to meet forty pairs of eyes fixed on him in stunned silence. The boardroom table stretched before him like a glossy runway, lined with the power players of Cardwell Group, presidents of subsidiaries, affiliate directors, shareholders with seven-figure portfolios. The quarterly strategy meeting had screeched to a halt the moment his private line rang and he'd lunged for it with uncharacteristic urgency. Their expressions ranged from barely concealed irritation to naked curiosity. David Cardwell, the man who once negotiated a hostile takeover while having a kidney stone removed, now fumbling with his phone like a teenager. As if guided by an invisible current, their gazes shifted to the man seated at David's right hand. Marcus Winters occupied his chair with the easy grace of someone born to authority, though everyone knew he hadn't been born to it at all. His golden hair caught the light from the windows, and behind elegant wire-rimmed glasses, his green eyes calculated, assessed, planned. The adopted son. The heir apparent. The CEO of Cardwell Corporation. "Is the Young Miss finally coming home?" Marcus asked, his soft voice slicing through the silence like a blade. The whispers erupted like a swarm of locusts. "Young Miss? Who is this Young Miss?" A balding board member leaned toward his colleague, coffee breath mingling with expensive cologne. "Could the Chairman have adopted a daughter?" Another voice puzzled from the far end of the table, where the newest board members sat farthest from power. David's face, normally etched with the stern lines of leadership, cracked into a smile that made him look twenty years younger. "Yes, that is correct. She is finally coming home." "Congratulations, Chairman." Marcus rose slightly from his chair, inclining his head in a bow. For just a heartbeat, something flickered across his features, a shadow, a memory, gone before it could be named. 'Eleanor... it seems this is how you return' "Congratulations, Chairman!" The chorus swelled from around the table, words of goodwill floating above calculations almost visible behind their eyes. Share prices. Succession plans. New alliances. David raised one hand, commanding silence as effortlessly as he had for four decades. "Thank you all." His gaze traveled the length of the table, cataloging each face, each reaction, storing it away for future reference. The faint smile remained plastered on his face, betraying nothing. 'Greedy wolves', he thought, before turning to his Chief Advisor standing statue-like at his side. "Henry, prepare a car to pick up the Young Miss at this location." He slid a piece of paper with an address across the polished wood. To Marcus, he nodded once. "I'll excuse myself now. I trust you can handle the rest of the meeting on your own." "Please leave it to me." Marcus dipped his head again, a perfect display of deference. "Welcoming the Miss is of utmost importance." As David strode from the boardroom, Italian leather shoes silent against the plush carpet, the muscles in his jaw tightened. In his mind, he replayed Ava's voice...the slight catch in her throat, the muffled sniff she'd tried to hide. Someone had hurt her. Someone had made his granddaughter cry. His hand closed into a fist at his side, thumbnail biting into his palm. The Cardwell hounds would be released, and whoever had dared harm the princess better pray they were never found. Because David Cardwell had built an empire on the bones of those who crossed him and for Ava, he would burn that empire to the ground if necessary. *** The Cardwell estate loomed in the distance, a massive mansion of red brick, white columns surrounded by meticulously tended gardens. "We have arrived Miss" The driver who had introduced himself as Thomas said glancing at her through the rearview mirror. "Cardwell Manor" Ava stared at the imposing structure, her throat suddenly dry, in her entire life she had never imagined herself belonging to a place like this. The McQueen estate had been grand but not as grand as this and it definitely wasn't hers. Her home. With her family. Her mother had raised her modestly, working two jobs to provide a comfortable but simple life. The contrast between that existence and the opulence before her was staggering. How had her mother abandoned all of these to live hand to mouth? And why? 'What exactly was she running from?' Ava's head was filled with clashing thoughts as she clenched her sweaty palms. As the car came to a stop at the front entrance, Ava noticed a small group of people waiting on the steps. And at the center stood a tall distinguished man with silver hair and intense eyes that even from a distance she recognized as similar to her own. David Cardwell. Her grandfather. The idea was still foreign to her. Before Thomas could come around to open her door, Ava took a deep breath and stepped out herself, clutching her small handbag and smoothed her sweaty palms on her skirt before taking a step towards the mansion. One foot after another, Toward the stranger whose blood ran through her veins. Toward a future that loomed before her, terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure.The front door slammed with enough force to rattle the crystal vase on the entryway table. A petal detached from one of the dying roses Ava had arranged three days ago and floated to the marble floor. Ethan brushed past Victoria and Phoebe who stood stunned in the living room and charged upstairs ignoring his mother's attempt to stop him. His leather shoes pounded the curved staircase, each step heavier than the last, until he reached the second floor. The bedroom door, Ava's bedroom door, banged against the wall. The framed wedding photo on the nightstand wobbled, then fell face down with a soft thud. He picked it up to stare at the radiantly smiling face of the woman, happy as she took a vow to love him forever. The same Ava who had just walked out of his life without a backward glance, divorce papers signed with a practiced flourish, her signature as elegant and composed as she had appeared throughout the proceedings. He dropped the framed photo with a slam back on the tab
"Welcome home, Ava," David called, his voice carrying across the driveway. He descended the steps with surprising agility for a man in his seventies, making his way directly to her. Up close, the resemblance was undeniable. They shared the same high cheekbones, the same determined set of the jaw. Most strikingly, they had identical eyes, a beautiful shade of green with flecks of gold. "Mr. Cardwell," she began, extending her hand formally, her nervousness showing in her voice. "David, please. Or Grandfather, if you're comfortable with that." He ignored her outstretched hand and instead pulled her into a gentle embrace. "You look so much like Eleanor," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. When he released her, Ava saw moisture in his eyes. He composed himself quickly, gesturing to the people waiting on the steps. "Allow me to introduce some of the household staff. This is Mrs.
"Yes, yes, I'd send the private jet to you right now." David Cardwell's deep voice cracked mid-sentence as he clutched the receiver so tightly his knuckles whitened. A single drop of sweat rolled down his temple despite the room's arctic air conditioning.She had reached out.His granddaughter had reached out.The photograph on his desk of Eleanor as a teenager, all sunshine smiles and windswept hair, seemed to glow in the afternoon light. When the investigator had first delivered the news that Eleanor had survived the accident and even had a child, David's chest had swelled with a hope he hadn't felt in decades. But that hope withered when the next words came: Eleanor herself was already gone, buried in a cemetery across the country without him ever knowing.His precious baby. Gone. Not even a chance to brush his fingers against her cheek one last time or whisper goodbye.But she had left something behind. Someone. Ava.David's hand trembled as he pressed the receiver closer, drink
# The Return Ava heard Ethan call out her name, but she didn't look back. Her heart clenched in pain as she walked toward the main gates, struggling to hold back tears. 'I must not cry! They are not worth it!' she thought to herself as she marched on. Ethan had sounded so distraught that she almost ran back into his arms, but she had had enough. She wasn't going back, not this time. Five years of broken promises and quiet disappointments had finally crystallized into resolve. She reached into her purse and took out her cell phone to hail a taxi. When it arrived, she boarded and took one last look at the place she had called home for five years, letting out a long sigh. The colonial-style house with its perfect lawn and manicured hedges had once represented everything she thought she wanted: stability, security, belonging. Now it felt like a beautiful prison she was finally escaping. "Take me to Oakwood Cemetery, please," she told the driver, her voice steadier than she expected
Victoria's nails dug crescents into her palm as Ethan's taillights winked out of sight. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth -she'd been biting the inside of her cheek without realizing. She forced her facial muscles into what she hoped resembled a smile as Phoebe held the car door open for her.The leather seat squeaked beneath her trembling body. Her gaze fixed on the spot where Ethan's car had disappeared, following Ava of all people. The same Ava she had claimed had tried to have her kidnapped. The same Ava who should be beneath contempt in his eyes.Three years ago flashed before her eyes. The fake rope burns on her wrists. The blindfold. Ethan bursting through the door, his face contorted with fury. Yet even then, even after hearing that Ava had orchestrated, he'd hesitated. "Grandfather wouldn't allow it," he'd said, when she'd suggested divorce.But Grandfather was cold in the ground now. What was Ethan's excuse?Ice crystallized in her veins. An image surfaced: Eth
The sun beat down hot and bright, clouds absent in the wide expanse of blue. 'Not quite the weather for a funeral' Ava thought, tugging at her black lace gloves and stared absentmindedly in front of her, she say primly, the bench hard under her as she listened to the priest. "We gather here today to celebrate the memory of our beloved brother, Kenneth Alvin McQueen" In the silence that reigned in the cathedral, the priest voice droned on, seeming to echo from off the high ceilings. Kenneth had died from complications on the final surgery for his cancer at seventy one years. Kenneth, the person who had pushed for her marriage to Ethan. Kenneth, the one person who had patted her back when she cried secretly. Kenneth, the one person whose gaze she didn't want to disappoint. Taking a deep breath, her heart aching but her eyes and mouth were surprisingly dry. She was seated by herself among the well wishers, while Victoria say with Ethan and the rest of the family in the pew res
Arriving at the McQueen mansion, Ava turned to look at the man beside her,he really looked like an angel."Did that person send you?" She asked removing her seatbelt "Convey my thanks to him" she opened the car door and stepped out without waiting for his answer."When will you return?" Dean asked, his words stopping her mid-stride."Soon" Ava replied, so softly it could have been the wind before continuing into the house.She could hear voices before she entered the living room."She's always been like this, pulling stunts to get cheap attention for herself, she should be locked away in a facility and stop embarrassing my son" Phoebe's peculiar shrill voice carried from the room.Ava walked in and saw Victoria sitting near Phoebe on a sofa,her hands cradling a teacup, her shoulders hunched, she had returned first without Ethan it seems."I don't think she did it on purpose" Victoria said weakly " The
Outside the hospital ward,people walked up and down the hallway.Ethan stood outside Ava's room, his arms crossed and his fingers tapping, a habit that showed he was agitated.He couldn't understand why he was so unsettled, besides he was sure, she had fallen into the pool on purpose.But seeing your wife, unconscious, soaked and in another man's arms will do something to any man.In Ethan's case, he was enraged.He had watched as his wife, pale and limp had been carried bridal style by another man.He turned away from staring at the door and frowned, his lips pressed together into a straight line, grinding his teeth as he stated at the man who had brought his wife to the hospital.Dean Winters.Adonis Dean as his peers called him for his angelic features.He was the son of the CEO of Cardwell group, A multinational conglomerate and one of the greatest tech specialist in Montreal City, And someone he had always been compared to.Ethan hated been compared to anyone, especially to someo
ETHAN STOOD TRANSFIXED to the spot was he tried to register the words he had just heard from the woman in front of him.She was small, her copper curls wrapped up completely in a bandage, her blue eyes was dark with rage, her face was pale and she looked like she fall over any minute.‘Motherf*cker? Divorce? Before that why does she look so bad?’ He had received the report of her accident and hearing her driver sound somewhat okay had assumed her injuries were so-so.He had wanted to go visit her, but Victoria had requested his help with setting up the exhibition and she looked so harried he had no choice but to stay behind and sort things out as this event was very important to him.When Ava’s driver had called again, Victoria had urged him to go.“Please leave, I can handle the remainder by myself, if the madam knew you didn’t go because of me…I’m afraid she…” Victoria trembled in fear, seeing her so scared, he had hardened his heart and decided to stay back.“Just take her to the h