* FREEBIES * Chapter 145 : I want Ava. And I want her now!

Dear Gentle Readers, 

Let’s play a game of guessing which character said the quote on the chapter title... Comment who you think say "I want Ava. And I want her now!" before you read this chapter...

E.C. 

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Josh's bloodshot eyes locked onto the car speeding ahead of him, his grip on the steering wheel tight enough to turn his knuckles white. Fury coiled inside him like a viper, ready to strike. He wanted nothing more than to crash into her, to force her to a stop—to make Ava his, no matter the cost.

But Ava was faster. It was as if she could anticipate his every move, her driving precise, calculated. He floored the gas pedal, ignoring the blaring sirens that suddenly erupted behind him. Police patrol cars closed in, their flashing red and blue lights reflecting off his windshield, but Josh was beyond caring. He wouldn't let them stop him—not before he got Ava.

The problem was, she had already slipped through his fingers.

Le Châteauesque Manor had strict speed restrictions, and as soon as Ava reached the gated entrance, the security guards recognized her car and lifted the barrier without hesitation. She disappeared inside, leaving Josh trapped on the outside.

The second he tried to follow, a barricade of police cars cut off his path. Officers surrounded his vehicle, barking commands, their hands hovering over their weapons. Josh slammed his fists against the steering wheel, a guttural growl escaping his throat. His furious gaze never left the entrance of Le Châteauesque Manor.

Ava had escaped.

---

When Araminta’s phone rang, she snatched it up, expecting news about Kenny. She had already informed the police about his sudden disappearance, and worry gnawed at her stomach. But the voice on the other end didn’t mention Kenny.

Instead, they wanted her to come down to the station and collect Josh.

Her brows furrowed. What had that idiot done now?

When she arrived at the police station, she found Josh in a state of barely contained rage, his body tense as he snapped at the officers. His face was red, his eyes wild.

Araminta hurriedly paid the bail and ushered him outside, shoving him into the car. But the moment she settled into the driver’s seat, he turned on her with venom.

“This is all your fault for messing around with Kenny,” he spat. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this damn situation!”

A flicker of shame crossed Araminta’s face, but she quickly buried it.

“Josh, listen to me,” she said, forcing her voice into something close to reason. “If your father wakes up and asks Cornelius Vanderbilt for help, both Kenny and I will be thrown in jail. Kenny’s already missing, and I’m thinking of selling my shares to get some cash. We need to leave New York City—”

Josh’s fist lashed out, slamming into the car window. The glass shattered in an instant, sending shards raining down onto the seat.

Araminta shrieked, her hands flying to the wheel.

Josh’s breathing was ragged, his fists trembling.

“Shut up,” he growled. “I don’t give a damn about the Morales family’s money. I want Ava. And I want her now.”

Araminta’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel, knuckles paling. She had never seen him this unhinged before, his obsession twisting into something monstrous.

“Josh…” she murmured cautiously, but he didn’t even spare her a glance.

Realizing that reasoning with him was futile, she fell silent. But her unease only grew. James could wake up at any moment, and when he did, all hell would break loose.

---

Meanwhile, back at Le Châteauesque Manor, Ava’s hands were still trembling around the steering wheel. The close call with Josh had shaken her more than she cared to admit.

This had to end.

She knew Josh well enough to understand that as long as he was still free, she’d never be safe—not here, not anywhere. Sitting back and waiting for him to make the next move wasn’t an option.

Taking a steadying breath, she changed into dark, nondescript clothing, pulling a cap low over her forehead and securing a mask over her face. She glanced at herself in the mirror. Even Rachel wouldn’t recognize her now.

As the sky darkened, she slipped out, accompanied by two of Mr. Vanderbilt Sr.’s most trusted drivers. One of them, according to Aunt Torres, was a professional at evasion—he could shake off a dozen cars without breaking a sweat.

Ava had him take her car as a decoy while she rode in the second vehicle. If Josh was going to come after her, she’d make sure he walked straight into her trap.

She sent him a message.

Ava: Where are you? I’ll come find you. Let’s talk.

Josh’s response was immediate, as expected. He sent an address—an abandoned bar on the outskirts of the city, a place known for its lack of surveillance.

A smirk curled at the corner of Ava’s lips. His intentions were obvious.

Ava: I heard the Morales family is in trouble. I need to ask you something.

Josh sneered at his screen. “That dumb bitch actually dared to meet me.”

Without hesitation, he jumped into his car and drove to the location, his excitement thrumming through his veins.

The moment he arrived, he headed straight for the innermost private room. He had everything ready—ropes, whips, candles, and a selection of drugs. The second Ava walked through that door, she was his. He’d break her, make her regret ever defying him. And once he was done, he’d sell her off.

The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine.

When Ava arrived at the bar, she didn’t go inside. Instead, she took out a small pair of scissors and methodically punctured two of Josh’s tires. He wouldn’t be making a quick escape tonight.

Then, slipping back into the waiting car, she had her driver position the vehicle directly at the entrance. There was no way Josh was leaving this place without her say-so.

Finally, she sent the last message.

Ava: I’m here.

Josh grinned, rolling his shoulders as he got to his feet. He strode out of the private room, fully expecting to see her standing there, helpless.

Sure enough, Ava’s car was parked right at the entrance.

His blood boiled with anticipation.

Tonight, he would make her his. 

Just as Josh neared, another message popped up on his screen.

Ava: [I'm worried this place isn't safe. Let's go somewhere else, not far from here.]

Almost on cue, the car in front of him slowly began to pull away. It moved deliberately, as if waiting for him to follow.

Josh’s pulse quickened. He couldn't let this opportunity slip away. He climbed into his car, feeling a twisted sense of triumph. But as he started the engine, the dashboard lit up with a tire pressure warning.

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. Something was wrong.

Logically, he should have stopped to check. But ahead, the car carrying Ava—or so he thought—kept rolling forward, luring him in. The temptation was too much to resist. Changing a tire meant wasting precious time. Dragging her down with him, however? That was worth the risk.

What Josh didn’t know was that Ava was nowhere near that car. The only person inside was a seasoned driver, a man hired specifically for this task. Ava hadn’t done anything as reckless as cutting the brake lines—that would be too dangerous. Instead, she had only punctured the tires, leaving Josh with a choice.

Yet, in his blind pursuit, he threw caution aside.

As expected, the driver ahead noticed Josh taking the bait. Without hesitation, he veered onto the highway.

The road Josh had chosen for the meeting was already secluded, but now they were heading toward a more treacherous path—a winding mountain road notorious for late-night street races.

Ava had deliberately mentioned it earlier, offhandedly bringing up how Josh had once loved the thrill of racing there. It had been a calculated remark, planting the seed in the driver’s mind.

And the driver understood the message loud and clear.

With smooth precision, he guided the car into the narrow curves, drifting effortlessly through a series of hairpin turns.

Behind him, Josh’s eyes darkened with manic determination. He barely blinked as he pressed the accelerator, thrilled by the fact that they were getting further and further away from the city. The remoteness of the road sent a sick wave of excitement through him.

Soon, she would have nowhere to run.

He imagined her car finally stopping, her helpless expression, her breathless pleas. He could almost hear it now—her begging, her fear.

Josh clenched the steering wheel, a twisted grin creeping onto his face. Arrogant bitch. You won’t escape me tonight.

But then—

The car jerked.

It swerved wildly as he yanked the wheel, trying to regain control. His gut lurched as the vehicle fishtailed violently, tires screeching against the asphalt.

A split second later, metal met rock.

The impact was deafening.

Glass shattered, the car crumpled, and Josh’s body was thrown forward with brutal force. As the vehicle lurched toward the cliff’s edge, sheer terror shot through him.

He was going to die.

With the last ounce of his strength, he lunged for the door and hurled himself out—just before the car tipped over the edge and plunged into the darkness below.

The fall was long. The explosion even longer.

Josh hit the ground hard. Agony shot through his legs—both were broken. His vision blurred, pain consuming him entirely. And then—blackness.

---

Inside the lead car, the driver glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed the absence of headlights behind him. His expression remained impassive as he smoothly changed course, taking an alternate route back.

He pulled out his phone and dialed.

“It’s done,” he reported.

On the other end of the line, Ava sat in the dim interior of her own car. At his words, her grip on the steering wheel tightened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her throat felt suddenly dry.

“…Okay. Got it.”

This was the first time she had orchestrated something like this. And yet, she felt no guilt.

Josh had become a parasite, feeding off his own hate, refusing to let go. He had already poisoned too much of her life. She had given him a chance—more than one. He was the one who had chosen revenge.

He had no one to blame but himself.

---

As the two cars neared Le Châteauesque Manor, Ava hesitated. If Alexander was there, she wasn’t in the mood to deal with him. Making a split-second decision, she switched back to her own vehicle and turned toward the Upper West Side instead.

It was already past nine. Her phone screen lit up, showing a missed call from Alexander. She had been too preoccupied with Josh to notice it earlier.

She dialed back, but before she could even say a word—

He hung up.

Ava stared at the screen, her brow furrowing.

Really?

Of all the things Alexander could be, petty wasn’t usually one of them. But tonight? He was acting ridiculous.

---------

Alexander was at Le Châteauesque Manor that evening, an imposing estate of modern elegance and old-world grandeur. The chandeliers cast a warm glow over the marbled floors, their light reflecting off the polished mahogany furniture.

When he returned home, Aunt Torres was surprised. It was one thing for him to call earlier to check on a dog, but to come back so early just to personally retrieve its leash? That was unprecedented. She watched him with curious eyes as he picked up Rex's leash and made a call—only for it to go unanswered.

His jaw tightened, his face darkening visibly before he tossed the leash aside with a sharp flick of his wrist.

Aunt Torres hesitated before cautiously asking, “Aren’t you going to return the dog?”

"No." His voice was clipped, his mood unreadable as he strode toward the staircase. “The owner doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.”

Aunt Torres sighed inwardly. Of course, Ava wasn’t in a hurry. After all, she knew exactly where Rex was.

---

Meanwhile, Ava hesitated, her phone in hand. Should she call again?

She couldn't figure out Alexander's temper, so instead, she called Aunt Torres.

"Aunt Torres, Alexander hasn’t been skimping on Rex’s food, has he?"

Would he be petty enough to starve her dog out of spite? Rex was mischievous and incredibly picky, a result of being spoiled since he was a puppy. The poor thing wouldn’t be able to handle such mistreatment.

Aunt Torres chuckled. "Don’t worry, dear. Tonight, he even had us feed Rex imported beef."

Ava was speechless. Imported beef? That stuff cost hundreds of dollars per pound! Even she hadn’t indulged Rex to that extent.

Realizing Rex was being treated better than ever, Ava exhaled in relief. At least that was one less thing to worry about tonight. With Josh’s situation finally settled, she could finally get a good night’s sleep.

---

Back at the manor, Alexander sat in his sleek, modern study, reviewing company documents. The room was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the glow of his laptop and the ambient city lights outside the vast window.

As the hours passed, his brows furrowed deeper. Not a single call.

By midnight, a storm had settled behind his cold gaze. She really wasn’t planning to call.

His fingers drummed impatiently against the glass table. His expression was unreadable, but there was a certain tension in his posture—a growing urge to sell Rex on the spot.

Eventually, with a heavy exhale, he shut his laptop. Time to wash up and call it a night.

***

The golden light of dawn spilled over Le Châteauesque Manor, casting long shadows across the estate.

Alexander picked up his phone and called Rita. "Come pick up Rex."

On the other end, Rita paused before responding, "So, you did see my messages. You found Rex pretty fast."

When she arrived at the manor, she stepped inside, eyeing Alexander with amusement. "By the way, why didn’t you return him yourself? Ava would probably be thrilled."

Standing in the grand foyer, Alexander adjusted the cuffs of his perfectly tailored suit. His expression remained cool, unreadable. “None of my business.”

Rita raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk. Slept with her, but now acting indifferent?

For someone who never entertained casual flings, Alexander certainly had a way of pretending he didn’t care.

Outside, he walked toward his luxury car, sleek and black, reflecting the morning light like polished obsidian.

"Can you give me a ride?" Rita asked, holding Rex. "I don’t want to leave him in the back of my car. If anything happens, I won’t be able to explain it to Ava."

Alexander shot her an impassive glance before shutting the car door. "I’m allergic to dog fur."

Rita rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You’ve been living with him.”

Instead of arguing, she tried a different angle. "If I return Rex myself, Ava will assume I found him. Should I mention that it was actually you?"

Alexander barely glanced her way. "No need." He rolled up the window, effectively ending the conversation.

Rita sighed, watching his car speed away. The man was impossible.

She made a quick call to Ava.

---

Ava had been cleaning when the phone rang. As soon as she heard Rita's voice, she rushed downstairs.

The moment Rex saw her, his tail wagged furiously, and he jumped up excitedly.

Holding him close, Ava smiled. "You little troublemaker."

Rita had a noon class and couldn’t stay long. As she got back into her car, she casually added, "Alexander found the dog, but he was busy, so he didn’t bring him himself. Don’t be sad, okay? Just try a little harder—sooner or later, he’ll start caring about you."

Ava blinked.

Try harder? Why should she try to make Alexander care?

She watched Rita drive off, completely confused.

As Ava brought Rex upstairs, she crossed paths with Bridgitte, who was on her way out.

The moment Bridgitte spotted the dog, she recoiled, her expression twisted in disgust. "Pets are so dirty. Keep its mouth shut. If it barks at night, I’ll definitely report it to property management."

Ava barely spared her a glance. Instead, her gaze flicked over Bridgitte’s outfit—head-to-toe designer labels, her fingers clutching an Hermès bag that was probably worth a small fortune.

Clearly, Raphael had been generous.

Noticing Ava’s glance, Bridgitte raised the bag higher, flaunting it. "Oh, this?" she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "It cost over $7,000."

Ava pursed her lips, unimpressed. Without a word, she turned and walked into her apartment, shutting the door behind her.

Bridgitte stood frozen in place, face flushing with anger.

Her attempt to stir up trouble between Ava and Victoria had clearly failed. But that didn't mean she was going to stop trying.

---

Still fuming from her encounter with Ava, Bridgitte arrived at Vanderbilt Group with renewed spite.

During lunch, she leaned in conspiratorially with a group of colleagues, voice dripping with malicious glee.

"Did you know that Mr. Vanderbilt’s designer was caught messing around with a villa owner? The wife found out and confronted her at the studio!"

"Really?" one of them gasped.

Bridgitte smirked. "Of course it’s true. Raphael told me, and he’s well-connected. Besides, how do you think she even got to be Alexander’s designer in the first place—"

Her words were cut off by a sharp, cold voice.

"Within half an hour, go get your resignation letter."

The room fell silent. Bridgitte’s breath hitched.

Slowly, she turned—only to see Alexander standing behind her, Jonathan at his side.

His gaze was ice-cold, his presence commanding.

Bridgitte’s mouth went dry. She had just made a very, very big mistake...