Chapter 9

Ava’s pov

I could lie and he would still believe it. His question was simple and giving him an answer won’t give me away.

Tell me one true thing about yourself.

I wanted to lie, wanted to brush it off but the way he was looking at me. The truth really mattered to him and I feel like giving him that this time.

“I hate pity,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

I felt exposed.

His brows drew together slightly, not in mockery or disbelief but in something else, curiosity. Maybe even understanding.

“Pity,” he repeated.

I nodded. “I can stand anger. I can stand indifference. But pity? It makes you small. Makes you feel like you’ve already lost before you’ve even had a chance to fight.”

I glanced at him, his eyes hadn’t softened — but something inside them shifted. The man everyone said was cold, ruthless, untouchable… he looked at me like he knew exactly what I meant.

“I understand,” he said quietly. “No one here would ever dare pity you.”

Heat crawled up my throat. He was too close. His words sounded like he was trying to assure me.

“I don’t need reassurance,” I said quickly.

“Good,” he replied. “Because I don’t give it.”

But the way his gaze lingered on me said otherwise. I decided to let it go and watched the event in front of me play out.

***

Morning light peeked through the heavy curtains. I blinked and yawned. I was feeling a bit weak and exhausted from last night, groaning as the memories of last night came flashing back.

The gala had been suffocating and I don’t think I could get used to it. The board members were sizing me up, investors trying to read me like a stock chart, and the women—oh, the women. All of them with their fake smiles asking me questions all through the night. Who I was. Where I came from. How long I had been married. So exhausting.

I shoved the thought away and stood up from my bed. You would have thought as a couple we would have been sharing a room together which I feared the most but I’m glad Liam never requested or pushed for it. I wouldn’t know if I could pretend any longer, if we shared a bedroom. He would be able to see everything I have tried hiding from him these past few days.

I padded barefoot to the desk across the room. My gaze locked on the drawer.

The USB. I had totally forgotten due to all the events that played out yesterday.

I’d shoved it in there yesterday, promising myself I’d find the right time to look at it. But there was no “right time” in this house.

I pulled it out and slid it into the side of my laptop. Folders filled the desktop—rows of labeled files, all neat and precise: Transactions. Holdings. Reports. Confidential.

My throat dried. I clicked open Transactions.

The spreadsheets were endless. Numbers cascading down the page, neat columns of dates, accounts, destinations. Figures so large they made my chest tighten. Amounts of money I have never seen before.

I kept scrolling and saw different business transactions with their respective projects. The amounts they gain and the amounts they pour into such projects but one caught my eye. Why? Because of all the projects I kept seeing, this one has never been mentioned on tabloids before which made it foreign to me.

Project Phoenix.

The first time, I thought it was nothing. The second time, I paused. By the fifth entry, my breath had quickened. Huge sums of money—millions at a time—were being funneled to Phoenix. Always Phoenix. Always marked “cleared.”

I whispered the name aloud. “Project Phoenix…”

It meant nothing to me. Which was exactly what unsettled me.

I thought of every headline I had seen with Liam’s face attached—his new tower breaking ground downtown, the charitable foundation that donated to hospitals, the high-profile acquisitions splashed across business pages. But Phoenix? Not once. Not a single whisper.

Why hide a project worth this much?

I leaned closer, scrolling faster. It wasn’t just one-off payments. The transfers were expanding in frequency and amount. Phoenix was taking a lot of money at a rate that felt… dangerous.

I chewed my lip, jotting the name down on a scrap of paper before tucking it inside a book. I’d find out what Phoenix was. I had to.

After going through everything for a while, I tore the USB free, slammed the laptop shut, and shoved everything back into the drawer.

I stared at the closed laptop, counting my thoughts when my phone buzzed against the desk. The sound startled me enough that I nearly dropped it. My stomach sank the moment I saw the name flashing across the screen.

Dad.

My throat tightened. I hadn’t spoken to him properly in weeks. Mostly because I couldn’t bear to, also because I didn’t know how to explain… this.

I swiped to answer, pressing the phone to my ear. “Hi, Dad.”

His voice was rough, urgent. “Ava. What the hell is going on?”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

“The news, Ava. The goddamn news.” His breathing was uneven, like he had been pacing. “I saw you. Married. To Liam Vance. When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

My chest tightened. I could picture him, standing in our kitchen back home, hands shaking as he ran them through his thinning hair, the hurt in his eyes.

“Dad, I—”

He cut me off, voice cracking with anger and disbelief. “How could you marry him? After what he did to us? To your mother? To the marina? That man destroyed everything we had, Ava. And you—” His words faltered. “You went and married him in secret? Like it was nothing?”

Each word hit me. I knew he felt betrayed. I shut my eyes, fighting the urge to blurt everything out. The yacht explosion, the amnesia, the forged marriage certificate. That this wasn’t real, that I wasn’t betraying him the way it looked.

But what would that do? Drag him into this mess, make him complicit in my lies?

I forced my voice to be softer. “Dad, listen to me. I know how it looks. But you have to trust me, okay? I’m not blind. I know what Liam did. I haven’t forgotten. I never will.”

Silence stretched on the other end. I gripped the phone tighter. “Please. Just trust me a little longer.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s him. How do you expect me to be calm knowing you are not in safe hands?”

“Dad please.” I begged. I didn’t know what else to say, I just hope he could understand me and let me do whatever.

He exhaled sharply, weariness heavy in the sound. “You had better know what you’re doing, Ava.”

“I do,” I whispered, even though the words stung like a lie.

When I hung up, my hands trembled. The truth pressed against my throat, desperate to get out, but I swallowed it down.

For now, Dad would have to believe in me. Even if I wasn’t sure I believed in myself.

A knock came in and I glanced towards the door.

“Mrs. Vance?” Mrs. Hart’s voice, soft but firm, seeped through the door.

“Yes?” I managed, too quickly.

“Breakfast is served. Mr. Vance is waiting for you.”

I swallowed hard, forcing a casual “I’ll be down in a minute.”

Her footsteps retreated, leaving me in silence again.

I pressed my fingers to the drawer where the USB hid, my pulse still racing.

Liam Vance might have fooled the world with his empire, his charm, his power. And no matter what it took, I was going to tear it open.

My dad just needs to be patient and everything will be fine. We will get back what was ours.