Chapter 2

Chapter 2: His Prey

I was in Paris for Fashion Week. I only showed up on the first day and slipped away for all the rest—because that was never the real reason I came.

It was him. Leon.

I followed him to a quiet little café, nearly empty that time of day. He didn’t notice me come in; his whole focus was on his laptop. He didn’t even glance up to thank the waiter when his second coffee arrived.

I sat off to the side, pretending to scroll through my phone, and secretly snapped a photo of him. Who wouldn’t want to capture this sight?

Those days‑old stubble and messy, unkempt hair only sharpened his rough, striking features. He looked absolutely devastating. The shadow of a beard he’d clearly neglected for days only added to that dangerous, untamed air—making him seem all the more mature, all the more impossible to resist.

Truly, he was a walking red flag.

I wondered how many other women had fallen into his trap before me. If something happened between us, I knew I would never be the last.

I set my coffee cup down gently, and my gaze drifted back to him. My heart slammed against my ribs the moment our eyes met. It felt as if he’d seen me all along—just waiting for me to notice him back.

In that instant, I felt exactly like prey spotted by a predator.

He saw right through me. It was as if he could read every thought running through my head.

Instead of looking away, I narrowed my eyes at him, throwing him a sharp, annoyed look.

I caught the twitch of his brow—clearly not expecting that reaction. It had been months since that night in the elevator. Nothing ever came after it. I hadn’t expected him to seek me out again, not with how busy he’d been with work.

I’d gotten used to just watching him from afar. A chance encounter like this was rare enough. I never thought he’d even glance my way.

Our staring contest didn’t last long—my assistant arrived. I lifted an eyebrow at her, already irritated.

“Miss Avar,” she panted, out of breath.

“It’s Ava,” I corrected coldly.

She took a deep breath and stood her ground. “Miss Avar Sloan, there’s been a family emergency. I’ve already booked your flight. You need to pack—on Sir Smith’s orders.”

I glanced down at my phone. If it was truly an emergency, why hadn’t anyone called me directly?

Even without knowing the full story, I stood up as Katana gathered my things. Before I walked out, I looked back at Leon. His eyes were still fixed on me.

I frowned at him and ignored the intensity in his gaze. It looked as if he wanted to come over… yet something held him back. It was so unlike him.

He was the one who approached me first last time—why couldn’t he do the same now? We were practically the only customers in the café. It was the perfect chance. Why was he keeping his distance?

My mind swirled with questions, but I pushed them all aside the moment I got home.

Grandma Anastasia was dead.

And honestly? Good riddance!

No more toxic in this house. She was the one who brought nothing but trouble—flying into rages for no reason, turning her own family’s lives upside down. She’d made Grandpa Eli and everyone else miserable, secure in the belief that her position made her untouchable. She never wanted anyone to be happy. She wanted everyone to suffer right along with her.

Except for Tyler. He was always her favorite grandchild. No wonder he’d turned out so much like her—always chasing attention, always needing to be the center of everything.

She’d had her share of men back in her youth. It was no secret, and no wonder Grandpa Eli had sought comfort elsewhere. I couldn’t blame him. I’d heard her scream cruel, cutting words at him so many times—all because she couldn’t give him a child of their own. But when she fell ill with cancer years ago, Grandpa learned the truth: he had a child with woman he only loved all along.

Every lie she’d built up crumbled. And even sick as she was, she’d threatened to have his other family killed if he ever tried to reach them.

I’d never seen Grandpa Eli so broken, so lost. I’d gone straight to him and wrapped him in the tightest embrace I could give. To me, he was more of a grandfather than he ever was. He’d never held back his care or attention—not like her.

I never understood why she never had a soft spot for me. So I never had one for her either. She acted as if she were made of gold—when she was nothing close to it, even born into all that wealth. And no, I didn’t grieve her. I felt nothing but relief.

Geandpa Eli told me he planned to bring his second family home. I had no problem with that—wherever he found happiness, that was where I would stand by him.

I scoffed when I saw Tyler putting on a show of grief. It was Grandma Anastasia's funeral, yet no one wept for her—only her circle of friends. Grandpa and my mother watched the ceremony with empty faces. Aunt Cecile barely looked up from her phone.

It seemed disrespectful, but none of it was out of place. She’d never given them a mother’s love—so why should they give her a daughter’s grief? Like me, they would always choose Grandpa, the man who’d been there for them, over the woman who’d only ever hurt them.

When it was my turn to lay a white rose on her casket, I bit down on the petals in irritation and spat them onto her gold‑plated coffin.

Hmph! She deserved to be wrapped in a plain sheet and buried in the ground like everyone else!

I tossed the stem at her grave, knowing full well every eye was on me. I heard gasps from her friends, but I didn’t care.

That was for making Grandpa Eli’s life a living hell!

I sat back down beside him as if I’d done nothing at all. Once the service ended, we left before the rest of the guests. I wanted to go with Grandpa wherever he was going, but he asked me to go home and rest first.

I did. A few days later, Grandpa returned—with his second family in tow. I was shocked to see Rose walking beside an older woman. She looked just as surprised, but Tyler was absolutely stunned. He’d been cursing himself nonstop ever since he learned Rose was our cousin. No wonder—he’d been drawn to her right away. He’d even gotten into a fight with Saint just to get her attention, never knowing they were already family by law.

Even though they shared no blood, Grandpa introduced Rose as part of our immediate family. We learned her mother was recovering in a rehabilitation center. My mother had a hard time accepting it at first—she’d almost caused a scene—until Aunt Cecile reminded her who she was talking about. My mother apologized immediately.

I wasted no time warming up to Rose. She was wary at first, but we soon found our way to each other—especially when I saw how kind her grandmother was. No wonder Rose had grown up so confident and hardworking. Even in the mansion, they both helped out in the kitchen, cleaning up without being asked.

Not long after, Rose decided to move abroad. Grandpa Eli trusted her and Tyler to finish their studies and work in Japan—he had a construction firm there, and my father oversaw its operations.

I’d heard news about Saint and Maky, but Rose refused to listen. She threw herself into her studies and side jobs instead. Even in Japan, she was busy—buying goods her friends and neighbors in the Philippines ordered, sending them over with my father or me whenever they traveled, and letting Grandma Neri handle the deliveries and payments so nothing got missed.

She was so resourceful—something I could never be. I found myself envying her. I wanted that kind of life too—one that actually meant something. Not just living to produce another heir to walk the same empty path I’d been given. I had everything money could buy… yet I felt no joy.

None at all.

“Why don’t you go over there?” Rose asked suddenly, coming up beside me.

We were at an art exhibit showcasing works by young artists and artists with disabilities. I’d practically had to drag her along—just so no one would guess my only real reason for being there was him.

I let out a long, sharp breath. “Isn’t chasing him everywhere he goes pathetic enough? Do I have to throw myself at him too?”

She laughed softly and sat down next to me. “How will he ever know how you feel if you never try?”

I looked back at Leon, laughing with his friends. For now, no woman clung to his side—but I knew that would change as the night wore on.

“I already had him once,” I snapped back. “You were there, remember?”

“How was I supposed to know you two never picked up where you left off?” she shot back. “And anyway—why chase him? He’s the kind who takes whatever’s served to him.”

I laughed bitterly. She was right. That was exactly who Leon was. But the way he’d looked at me back in Paris… there was something more there.

Men were predators by nature. If they truly wanted you, they would do anything to have you. And with him? I knew he would play with me until he grew bored. And when he was done… he would leave me broken.

“Just like your Saint, then?” I teased back.

Rose scoffed. “He’s just like Leon,” she said flatly.

“Maybe,” I grinned, “maybe not.”

I wanted to tell her about the broken engagement, about the accident that had nearly taken his life—but I kept my mouth shut.

When I looked back at Leon, I felt as if I were melting right where I stood. He was watching me the same way he had in Paris—like a predator eyeing his prey.

I glanced behind me, thinking he was looking at someone else—but there was only the bartender there. When I looked back, he was smirking.

I lifted an eyebrow at him. Don’t look at me like that if you’re never going to come over.

“Of all the men you could choose… why him?” Rose asked out of nowhere.

I rolled my eyes. “Because he’s the one I can’t have. I was born with no say in anything. Everything was handed to me before I even asked. And Leon… he’s the kind of thrill I crave. Maybe because he doesn’t see me the way everyone else does. Everyone else knows I’m already promised to someone. They want what’s meant for me, but they know it’s already been decided. Daddy’s already locked it all down—even if I don’t know who he is. Maybe it’s one of them… or maybe none of them at all.”

“Thank God I wasn’t born rich,” she said quietly.

I frowned at her. “You’re Grandpa’s heir. You are rich.”

“I don’t want it,” she said firmly, finishing her drink in one go. “I didn’t earn it.”

“Whether you want it or not, it’s yours,” I told her. “Just like me. You have no choice but to accept it.”

“But what if Leon wants you?” she asked, steering the conversation somewhere else. She nodded toward him, and I couldn’t stop myself from looking back. He was still watching. “He’s been staring at you this whole time,” she whispered.

I laughed dryly and rolled my eyes again. “He’s not looking at me—”

“Are you saying he’s interested in the bartender?” Rose cut me off sharply. “Of course he’s looking at you! I’ve noticed it this whole time.”

I couldn’t bring myself to believe it.

Why?

Why would he be looking at me?