Part 5: Her Safe Place

The world outside the dining room had dissolved into a meaningless blur for Avery. She was vaguely aware of Sarah’s arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, guiding her through the long, silent corridors of the Knight residence.

Every word from that venomous article echoed in her mind: psychological distress, abandoned her home, unfit. Oliver wasn't just divorcing her. He was methodically erasing her, painting her as a monster to a world that was all too ready to believe it.

“This way, Ave,” Sarah’s voice cut through the fog, gentle but firm. “This is the master guest suite. No one will bother you here. It’s the most secure room in the house.”

The room was less of a room and more of a private apartment. It was decorated in soft shades of cream and silver, with a large four-poster bed, a sitting area with a fireplace, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked a manicured private garden.

In the corner, one of the maids was already setting up a beautiful wooden crib for Adelia, who was still sleeping peacefully wrapped in small and warm blanket, blissfully unaware of the storm raging around her.

Avery sank onto the edge of the plush sofa, her body trembling uncontrollably. “He’s going to separate her from me, Sarah,” she whispered, the words raw with a terror so obvious it felt like a physical illness. “That’s what this is about. He’ll tell the court I’m crazy. He’ll use my exhaustion, my crying… he’ll twist everything.”

“He can try,” Sarah replied, sitting beside her and taking her cold hands. “But he won’t succeed. You are not alone in this. Did you see Ashton’s face? I haven’t seen him look that furious since a competitor tried to steal one of his company patents. Oliver Reed has just picked a fight with a sleeping lion, and he doesn’t even know it.”

Downstairs, Ashton was still in controlled rage. The moment the women were out of sight, he had his phone to his ear, his voice low and lethally calm.

“Daniel, it’s me,” he said, bypassing any pleasantries. “Cancel my entire schedule for the week. Yes, all of it. The merger talks can wait. I have a personal crisis that requires my full attention… No, my family is fine. This is for a friend.”

He paused, listening. “I need you to assemble a team, and I need them today. I want Harrison Finch on family law. I don’t care if he’s in the middle of another case, buy him out of it. For PR, I want Eleanor Vance. I need a full media strategy to counter a public slander campaign. And I want a team of the best private investigators you can find.”

Ashton took a breath. “I want every skeleton in Oliver Reed’s closet, and in his mother’s. I want to know everything. Financial indiscretions, past relationships, secret vices. Spare no expense. This is a serious operation. Get it done.”

He hung up without waiting for a reply, his knuckles white as he gripped the phone. This wasn't just about helping an old friend. It was about the sheer, galling injustice of it.

He remembered Oliver Reed from social circles—a man who projected an aura of slick, inherited confidence but whose eyes held a weak, cruel glint. He was a bully, using his power and influence to crush someone he perceived as weaker. And that someone was Avery.

The Avery he remembered—bright, kind, with a smile that could disarm armies—was being brutally destroyed by a coward. An old, deeply buried protective instinct flared to life within him, hot and undeniable.

He took a deep breath, composing himself before heading upstairs. When he entered the guest suite, he found Sarah trying to coax Avery into drinking some tea, with little success. Avery was just staring at Adelia’s crib, her face a mask of fear.

Ashton gestured for his sister to give them a moment. Sarah hesitated, then nodded and retreated to the far side of the room, standing guard.

Ashton pulled a chair from a nearby desk and sat opposite Avery, creating a space of intimacy in the large room. He didn't offer platitudes or empty comforts. He offered a plan.

“Avery,” he began, his voice steady and commanding, forcing her to meet his gaze. “What Oliver did is despicable, but it’s also a strategic move. Right now, he controls the narrative. We are going to take that control away from him. But to do that, I need three things from you.”

Avery blinked, her tear-filled eyes focusing on him. “T-three things? What are they, Ashton?” She finally asked.

“First,” Ashton said, holding up a finger. “You will not speak to anyone. Not the press—not yet, not mutual friends, and especially not Oliver or his mother. If they contact you, you do not respond. Everything, and I mean everything, goes through me or the legal team I’m assembling. Is that clear?”

She swallowed hard and gave a shaky nod.

“Second,” he continued, his gaze unwavering. “I need you to tell me everything. Not just about last night. I need to know the entire history. Every argument, every threat Rose made, every time Oliver made you feel small or dismissed your concerns. Every detail, no matter how insignificant you think it is, could be a weapon for us. We can’t fight what we don’t know.”

This was harder. Avery definitely hated memorizing and retelling every painful moments caused by Oliver and his mother.

“And third,” Ashton said, his voice softening slightly. “You need to trust me. I know you’ve been betrayed in the worst possible way, and trusting anyone right now feels impossible. But I swear to you, Avery, I will not let him win. My family’s resources, my company’s legal power, all of it is at your disposal. He started a war with a press release. We will end it.”

The room was silenced for a moment. Avery looked from Ashton’s determined face to the crib where her daughter was stirring, making soft, sleepy sounds. Her entire world was there.

The thought of Oliver’s cold, calculating family getting their hands on her was a nightmare she wouldn’t want to happen in real life. This wasn’t just about her reputation anymore. This was about Adelia’s safe future.

She took a deep, shuddering breath, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand. She looked Ashton directly in the eye, and for the first time, he saw a flicker of the resilient woman he once knew.

“Okay. Where do you want me to begin?” she asked, her voice still trembling, but now with resolve instead of just fear.

***