Chapter 23 — “Sabotage”

The conference room emptied in whispers and stiff backs.

No one looked at me.

Not really.

Not like before.

The silence left behind wasn’t quiet. It was shattered.

Glass silence. Blade silence.

Mark touched my shoulder like he didn’t know what else to do, and I didn’t pull away. I just sat there, staring at the screen long after it had gone black.

My name was on it.

My words. My signature.

My betrayal.

Except it wasn’t mine.

I stood slowly. My legs didn’t want to hold me, but I made them. One foot in front of the other. That’s what I’d always done, even when it burned, even when the whole world told me to fold.

I barely made it to the hallway bathroom before the sob hit.

I locked the door and collapsed against the sink, my breath a mess of sharp exhales and blurry noise. My reflection looked like a stranger, with wet eyes, pale skin, and mascara smudged like guilt.

I wanted to scream.

At him.

At myself.

At the silence, he left behind.

Tell me you didn’t send those emails.

I did. I told you. I told you I didn’t.

And you walked away anyway.

I clenched the edge of the sink and squeezed my eyes shut. My pulse was thudding in my ears, and then…

A memory broke through.

FLASHBACK 

I was eighteen.

Lily was ten.

Our mother was dead.

The living room still smelled like grief and stale perfume. I was on the floor, back against the couch, arms wrapped tight around my baby sister while the world fell apart.

She had asked me: “Are we going to be okay?”

And I’d lied.

I’d said, “Of course we are.”

Because that’s what big sisters do.

Even when they have nothing left to give.

Even when they’re scared out of their minds.

I held her that night, rocking her slowly while the lights flickered from the storm. Our mother’s favourite song was still playing faintly in the background, looping like a ghost.

I remember thinking: No one’s coming to save us.

So I did what I always did.

I became the armour.

Back in the present, I opened my eyes and stared at the reflection of a girl who never got to stop being the armour.

I didn’t cry again.

By the time I left the building, the city lights had started to flicker on, but it all felt distant. My phone buzzed twice in my bag. Naomi, probably. Mark. I ignored it.

The house was quiet when I returned.

Too quiet.

Damian wasn’t there. Or if he was, he was hiding behind another locked door.

Good.

I didn’t want to see him.

Not when I still tasted the betrayal in the back of my throat.

Not when I knew he hadn’t believed me, not even for a second.

I went to the guest room. The one I never used unless I needed to disappear. I opened the desk drawer slowly and pulled out the contract.

The marriage contract.

Crisp. Weighty. Legal.

I’d read it before. Not all at once, but enough to know the traps buried deep. Enough to remember Section 14B: Breach of Contract: the part I’d tried to forget.

If I left before the one-year mark, I owed Kingsley Corp a fortune.

It wasn’t new. Just crueler now, with everything collapsing around me. And he’d let me sign it anyway.

I didn’t know if I wanted to scream or laugh or tear the pages in half.

I can’t even leave him without going broke.

My fingers were trembling when the phone rang.

Unknown Number.

I stared at it.

It rang again.

Something in me knew before I even answered.

I picked up.

“Hello?”

A pause.

Then a voice like silk over venom.

“You don’t belong in his world, Ava.”

I froze.

“Helena.”

She laughed, low, cruel. “You sound surprised.”

“I’m not.”

“No,” she said softly. “You’re just tired. Tired of pretending you fit? Tired of waiting for him to see you. Tired of all that Kingsley money sitting behind a door you’ll never get the key to.”

My stomach curled.

“What do you want?”

“I already have what I want,” she said. “This is a favour. A warning, if you like.”

My grip tightened on the phone. “Say it.”

She didn’t rush.

She savoured it.

“Want proof you don’t belong in his world?”

“Check your email.”

Click.

The call ended.

And for the first time in my life, I was truly afraid of what came next.