LOGINAva's Pov
“We need to leave right now!” Helen rushed in with a nervous expression and I needed no soothsayer to tell what was going on. I adjusted the hoodie over my head as Helen led me out of the ward and towards the exit at the west wing because it was obvious the reporters were waiting at the main entrance. We made it out of the west wing exit without being recognized by another but I came to a halt when I caught sight of a familiar scene. Right at the main entrance was Jerome and Autumn with his hands wrapped securely around her waist while the reporters bombarded them with questions. They seemed to be enjoying the spotlight while ruining my life in the process. The reporters seemed to be sympathizing with them while Autumn acted like the wh I clenched my fist angrily while Helen shook her head slowly passing on a message which meant I couldn't do anything to blow my cover. I glanced at them one more time as I felt my chest tightened in pain before turning around and quietly followed Helen to her but unbeknownst to me Autumn had spotted me with Helen and had given out Helen's address to the reporters. Helen drove me to her condominium which was at the heart of the city and only when we arrived safely did I heave a sigh of relief. “Are you hungry? Is there something you would like to eat? I can prepare whatever dish you want..” Helen tried to lighten the mood but I just couldn't bring myself to stop thinking about what I'd just witnessed. “It's fine, Helen, you don't have to do anything.” I muttered mindlessly. “You have to eat something for the sake of the baby.” Helen looked at me with a gaze of concern and at the mention of the child I felt a sharp pain in my heart. When she didn't get a response from me, Helen left for the kitchen while sat down there staring mindlessly at my screen. My company was facing a major backlash and the investors were threatening to pull out the investment if the problem wasn't taken care of immediately. Helen returned shortly with a bowl of Noodles and placed it on the mini dining table in her apartment and walked towards me. “I don't know what you might like but I figured this should be better.” She mumbled as she took my cell phone away from me and I'd no choice but to eat. I ate with shaky hands as hot tears clouded my vision. “I don't deserve any of this, you know?” I finally spoke while Helen handed me a napkin. “No one deserves to be treated that way.” Helen comforted me and I laughed in self mockery. My hands trembled and I'd to drop the cutlery. “It hurts so much right now and all I want to do is run away and leave everything behind and forget it ever happened.” I scoffed and pushed the bowl aside gently. Helen moved closer to me and pulled me into a gentle hug. “I promise everything is going to be fine okay? We're going to figure out a way out of this.” Helen coaxed me as she stroked my back gently and I burst into sobs. “It's okay to cry….let it all out.” She whispered as she kept stroking my back gently till I finally calmed down. “Contact my lawyers and have them send the divorce documents to Jerome..” I finally spoke as I pulled away from her and wiped my eyes immediately. I guess it was finally time to let go and Helen drove me to the airport and was going to follow me all the way till I'd boarded the plane but as soon as we got out of the car when we immediately surrounded my flashes, I almost passed out. “Is it true you cut your wrist to gain your ex husband's attention?” I was stunned and so was Helen.. “I don't -” “There's speculation that Mr Parker broke up with you a long time ago but you've refused to give up so you slit your wrist to divert attention away from the fact that Miss Autumn lost her baby.” Another reporter pressed while the fleshing kept coming. I couldn't utter a single word as I stood there with trembling hands. These were lies that were fabricated by Autumn to stop me from leaving the country. The reporters were so brutal with their questions, barely giving me any chance to defend myself. “Get away from her!” Helen swung her bag at them violently, only then did they back away and that gave me a chance to run away since I couldn't get in the car. “One more question Mrs Ava!” A female reporter half yelled but it felt like my entire world was moving so fast and if I didn't get out of there I was going to end up in the hospital again. “You go, I'll hold them off!” Helen said and I made a run from it. I ran into the streets completely unaware of where I was heading while trying to keep a clear head but I'd barely made it anywhere when a black maybach pulled up in front of me and Jerome got out of the car. “You're coming with me.” He whispered as he got out of the car and I dashed towards another direction when I saw him but he caught me before I couldn't even make a run for it. “Let me go!” I yelled but he picked me off the ground and threw me on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walked back to his car without a word and threw me on the passenger seat violently, I groaned in pain as I wrapped my arms around my tummy securely. Jerome would go any length to get what he wants even if it means hurting someone and that was exactly what he was doing. He fastened the seat belt around me with a warning glare before getting in the car and turned on the ignition before driving off. I couldn't struggle any more due to pain in my waist. “Why are you doing this to me, huh? Haven't you done enough damage already?” I mumbled weakly as my face turned pale white. “Stop talking.” He groaned as he stepped on the acceleration and the car speed began increasing rapidly. Jerome broke all speed limits as he drove rather faster. I had to hold onto something for my dear life. I felt dizzy and nauseous while he drove.. “Slow down please, you're going to get us killed.” I muttered while trying to be as audible as possible but he simply wasn't paying attention as he stepped on the acceleration. Just when I thought I was going to empty my guts in the car, it finally pulled to a stop in front of a familiar villa but that was the least of my worries as I unlocked the door and bent over and began retching so hard, letting out everything in my system. Jerome came over to where I was and stroked my back gently. I wanted to push his hand away but unfortunately I was too weak to put up a fight so I just let him do whatever he wanted. “Here.” He handed me a bottle of water which I accepted without a word and drank from it and only then did I feel better. “Come on, let's go inside.” He placed his hand on my waist and began leading me towards the entrance and of course I knew where we were. This was supposed to be our matrimonial home but unfortunately Jerome suddenly changed his mind about moving. Turns out he'd other plans with my step sister. I suddenly pushed his hands off my body when I remembered what he'd done. “Why did you bring me here?” I asked with a cold expression but that couldn't hide how weak I look at the moment. “You look pale..” He frowned slightly as he moved closer but I took a step back instinctively. “You haven't answered my question.” I glared at him but that didn't stop him from coming closer. “You can yell at me all you want but right now your health is a priority and I would sincerely appreciate it if you go upstairs and rest.” Right now he wasn't the cold and emotionless Jerome I knew, he was genuinely concerned and I could see worry written all over him. without another word I quietly made my way upstairs to a room which I believed was mine. I shut the door behind me and looked around the room which was to my preference. I remember telling Jerome I wanted a walking-in-closet made out of glass and lights but I didn't think he paid attention to anything I said that day. I took off my jacket and quietly crawled into the bed and stayed there with my arms wrapped around my stomach loosely. I almost lost my mind when I heard a loud banging on the door. “Are you messing with me!?”JEROME’S POV SIX MONTHS LATER The boardroom of Parker Enterprises was quiet. It wasn’t the terrified silence of the past, where men held their breath afraid to wake the beast. It was a respectful silence. A focused silence. I stood at the head of the mahogany table; the same table Thomas had caressed like a lover, the same table where the coup had taken place. I looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the Los Angeles skyline. The smog had cleared. The city looked clean, sharp, and full of potential. “The quarterly figures are in, Mr. Parker,” Adrian said, breaking the silence. He was standing to my right, looking sharper than ever in a new suit. No longer just a bodyguard, he was now the Chief of Operations. “We’ve recovered eighty percent of the liquidity lost during the… restructuring.” Restructuring. That was the polite word for the week I burned my father’s empire to the ground. “And the charitable trust?” I asked, turning to face the board. The new board. You
JEROME’S POV The distance between us was thirty feet. Thirty feet of snow-covered ground, stained with soot and ash. At one end stood Thomas Parker; the man who gave me life. At the other stood Ava; the woman who gave my life meaning and holding our newborn son. And in between them was the invisible line of a bullet’s trajectory. Thomas held the revolver steady. The barrel was black, a void against the white snow. It wasn’t pointed at me. It was pointed directly at the bundle in Ava’s arms. “Put it down, Jerome,” Thomas repeated, his voice pleasant, almost conversational. “Don’t make me damage the merchandise.” “He’s not merchandise,” I said, my voice vibrating in my chest. “He’s a child. He’s your grandson.” “He is a reset button,” Thomas corrected. He took a slow step forward, the snow crunching under his expensive Italian loafers. “You failed, Jerome. You let emotions corrupt the business. But him? He’s a blank slate. I can raise him. I can teach him the right way. No dist
AVA MAXWELL’S POV The flashlight from Jerome’s phone was propped up on a dusty shelf of canning jars, casting long, shivering shadows against the earthen walls of the storm cellar. Above us, the roar of the fire was a dull, constant thunder. I could hear the beams of the cabin groaning as they warped under the heat, the heavy thump of debris falling onto the trapdoor that sealed us in. It felt like we were in a grave. But inside the grave, life was fighting to get out. “Jerome,” I gasped, the pain tearing through my lower back like a serrated knife. “It’s coming again! I can’t stop it!” Jerome was kneeling between my legs. He had stripped off his t-shirt and rolled it into a pillow for my head. His bare chest was streaked with soot and sweat, the bruises on his ribs dark and angry in the harsh light. He looked terrified. The man who could face down a boardroom of sharks, the man who could disarm a mercenary with a knife looked utterly, helplessly terrified. But his
JEROME’S POV Ammo Count: 13 rounds. The math was simple. Three targets. Thirteen bullets. One pregnant wife. I was crouching behind the overturned oak table, the wood splintering as bullets thudded into it. The air in the cabin was thick with dust, smoke, and the sharp, metallic tang of gunpowder. Pop. Pop. Two more shots from the yard. They were suppressing me, keeping my head down so they could flank. I risked a glance. The first man I’d shot was crawling through the snow, leaving a black trail of blood. The other two were moving. One to the left, toward the kitchen window. One to the right, toward the bedroom. They were splitting my attention. And standing in the center of the clearing, just out of effective pistol range, was Thomas. He stood with his hands in the pockets of his long wool coat, watching the destruction of his son’s life like it was an opera. I felt a vibration in the floorboards. A scream. It wasn’t a scream of fear. I knew Ava’s fear. Thi
JEROME’S POV The fire crackled, spitting sparks against the iron grate. It was the only sound in the world. I stood in the center of the cabin’s main room, stripping off the orange jumpsuit. The fabric was stiff with sweat and grime, a second skin of shame I was desperate to shed. I kicked it into the corner, leaving me in just my boxers. The cold air hit my skin, biting at the bruises blooming across my ribs and the cuts on my knuckles. I didn't feel the cold. I felt the adrenaline vibrating in my marrow, a low-frequency hum that wouldn’t stop. “Jerome.” Ava’s voice was soft, coming from the doorway of the bedroom. I turned. She was holding a first aid kit we had found in the bathroom cabinet. In the firelight, she looked so beautiful. “Sit down,” she ordered gently. “Let me look at those ribs.” I wanted to argue. I wanted to patrol the perimeter again. I wanted to clean the gun. But looking at her eyes wide, dark, and filled with a terrifying amount of lov
AVA MAXWELL’S POV The city of Los Angeles blurred into a streak of neon lights and shadows outside the tinted windows of the SUV. We were moving fast—too fast for legal limits, but fast enough to outrun the sirens wailing in the distance behind us. I sat in the backseat, my body turned completely toward Jerome. My hands were roaming over him, frantic and possessive, checking for injuries. He was a mess. His orange jumpsuit was torn at the shoulder, stained with soot and sweat. His knuckles were split and bleeding. There was a darkening bruise on his cheekbone where the guard had slammed him, and he smelled of smoke and violence. But he was alive. He was here. “I’m okay, Ava,” he murmured, catching my hands to stop their frantic search. “I’m okay. Stop.” “You’re bleeding,” I whispered, staring at his hands. “It’s not my blood,” he said grimly. I shuddered, but I didn’t pull away. I gripped his hands tight, intertwining our fingers. The metal of his wedding band was co







