CHAPTER 5

AVA

I sat in the cold stiff chair of the school office, staring at the papers in front of me. My fingers trembled slightly as I reached for the pen, my mind struggling to focus. Mr. Rawlings, the school director, sat across from me, his polite smile not quite reaching his eyes. I could tell he wanted to ask questions. His gaze kept darting from the stack of papers to me—more specifically, to the oversized jacket I was wearing and the dark glasses hiding my swollen face.

I didn’t have the strength to explain, and even if I did, where would I start? There was no way I could tell him what had happened.

He cleared his throat and handed me the transfer documents. “Miss Carter, these are the forms to transfer your brother to another school. You just need to sign here.”

I swallowed hard, took the pen, and quickly scribbled my name where he pointed. My hand shook, but I forced myself to get through it. My throat was tight, and my chest heavy with a mix of anxiety and exhaustion.

Mr. Rawlings watched me closely, and I knew what he was thinking. I could feel his eyes trying to figure out why I was dressed like this—why I looked like I was hiding something. He was right. I was.

I signed the last page and handed the papers back to him. “Thanks,” I muttered, keeping my voice steady.

He looked at me for a long moment before speaking. “Your brother has been a wonderful student here. We’ll miss him. I hope everything is alright with the transfer.”

I forced a tight smile, trying to look calm. “Yeah, we just need... a fresh start.”

He nodded, but I could tell he didn’t believe me. His eyes softened, and for a second, I thought he might ask something more personal. But instead, he just sighed and signed the papers. “I’ve finalized everything. I hope your brother finds success at his new school.”

“Thanks,” I said again, standing up quickly. I didn’t want to stay any longer than I had to.

Mr. Rawlings got up too, extending his hand. I shook it briefly, my grip weak. “Take care of yourself,” he added, his voice quiet but concerned.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from falling apart in front of him. I could still feel his eyes on me as I turned toward the door, clutching the transfer papers against my chest like they could shield me from everything I was trying to escape.

As I stepped outside the school building, the morning sunlight hit my face, momentarily blinding me. My head was still spinning, my heart racing as I tried to steady my breath. Molly was waiting for me just outside the gates, her arms crossed and a look of concern written all over her face. I was so grateful to have her by my side. With David at her house with her brother was enough to put my pounding heart at ease.

The moment she saw me, she uncrossed her arms and walked toward me. Without a word, she took my hand, her touch gentle but firm, guiding me out of the school grounds. We walked together in silence, the weight of everything I was leaving behind pressing heavily on my shoulders.

Once we were past the school gates, Molly stopped and turned to face me, her eyes scanning my face, probably searching for any sign that I was okay. "Are you sure you'll be alright? Going alone to your workplace?" she asked softly, her voice full of concern.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I'll be fine," I said, though my voice sounded more confident than I felt. "I need to get everything done today before I leave."

Molly studied me for a moment, her lips pressed into a thin line. She didn’t look convinced, but she nodded anyway. "Alright then. If you need anything, just call me, okay?"

"Okay," I whispered, my voice barely audible. Before she could say anything else, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, hugging her tightly. For a second, I felt safe in her embrace, like I could let go of all the fear and pain swirling inside me.

"Take care of yourself, Ava," she said softly into my ear, squeezing me gently before pulling away. "I’ll head back home now. Be careful."

I nodded again, offering her a small, grateful smile before I turned and headed toward the waiting taxi. As soon as I got in, I gave the driver directions to my workplace, then leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes for a brief moment. My mind was racing, but I tried to shut it all out. I just needed to get through this day.

The taxi ride felt both too short and too long at the same time. By the time we arrived at the hotel, my hands were clammy, and my stomach was in knots. I paid the driver, grabbed my bag, and hopped out of the taxi.

Without wasting any time, I walked straight into the hotel lobby. I pulled the resignation letter out of my bag, holding it tightly as I made my way to the office. My heart pounded in my chest as I approached the manager’s door, my mind racing with thoughts of how this would go.

But I didn’t stop to dwell on it.

I slipped the letter under the door, exhaling a huge sigh of relief when I didn’t run into any of my coworkers. The last thing I needed was questions or conversations I wasn’t ready to have. Seeing anyone right now would’ve made this even harder.

As I stepped out of the hotel, ready to leave, I heard a familiar male voice call my name, halting me in my tracks. My heart skipped a beat, and I turned slowly. There he was, dressed in his usual black suit—Mr. Colton's man. His eyes locked on mine, and despite the layers of clothing and the thick scarf and glasses I wore to conceal myself, he knew exactly who I was.

"Miss Ava," he said, stepping forward and opening the car door for me, "Mr. Colton wants to see you."

Without hesitation, I walked toward the car and slipped into the backseat. There was no point in resisting. As soon as I was settled, he got in the driver’s seat and pulled away from the curb. The silence between us was thick, but I couldn't help but glance at him from the corner of my eye, wondering how he had recognized me despite my efforts to stay hidden.

We drove through the city, the streets gradually changing as we left the familiar areas behind and headed into the more affluent part of town. My breath caught as we passed rows of stunning villas, each one more extravagant than the last. The sight left me in awe, the grandeur of these homes making me feel even smaller and more out of place.

Finally, we pulled up in front of one particular villa. It was breathtaking—modern, sleek, with perfect landscaping and pristine white walls. My heart raced as I wondered if this could be Mr. Colton’s house. The driver stepped out and opened the door for me, gesturing for me to follow.

He led me inside the villa, and I barely had a chance to take in the lavish interior before we reached the living room. My steps faltered when I saw a woman standing there, her posture tense like she'd been waiting impatiently for me.

"She's here," the driver announced before stepping aside.

At that moment, Mr. Colton emerged from somewhere deeper in the house, holding a glass of black coffee. He was still wearing the same clothes he had on yesterday, his shirt slightly rumpled but his demeanour as sharp as ever. He didn’t acknowledge me right away, his eyes on the woman who was now walking toward me.

The woman’s face softened as she approached. She was beautiful—tall, elegant, and graceful, with a kind smile. She extended her hand toward me, her touch soft as cotton. "I’m so glad to meet you," she said, her voice warm. "Colton told me all about you. I couldn’t wait another second to meet you in person."

I glanced over at Mr. Colton, who was leaning against the wall, casually sipping his coffee, watching us intently. His eyes seemed to bore into me, and I suddenly felt incredibly exposed, despite the layers of clothing I wore.

"Take off the glasses and the scarf," Mr. Colton ordered, his voice low but firm.

I shook my head slightly, my heart pounding. "I’m comfortable this way."

His eyes narrowed, and his tone hardened. "Take them off."

I hesitated, instinctively gripping the edge of my scarf. I wasn’t ready to reveal the marks of last night, the bruises that still stung my skin. Not here. Not in front of them.

Before I could respond, the woman—who I assumed was his wife—turned to him, her voice gentle. "Let her be, Colton. She said she’s comfortable like that."

But Mr. Colton’s expression remained cold. "I want them off," he insisted, his eyes flicking between me and the woman. "That’s why that girl ran off. You being soft with her."

His words cut through the air, sharp and heavy. He turned back to me, his gaze unyielding. "Don’t make me repeat myself. Do as I said."

With trembling hands, I slowly reached up and removed the dark glasses, and then the scarf, letting it fall around my neck. The room seemed to hold its breath as I stood there, vulnerable and exposed.

The woman gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "Oh, good Lord... What happened to you?" She immediately turned to her husband, her voice trembling with accusation. "Did you do this to her?"

Mr. Colton’s expression didn’t change. He raised an eyebrow, his tone calm but biting. "Did she tell you I did that to her face? Is that how you think of your brother?"

Oh, they’re brother and sister.

The realization hit me like a wave. This woman—the one standing in front of me with a worried look on her face—was Mr. Colton’s sister. She was the one I would be carrying the child for. It all made sense now, but the tension in the room remained thick, and I couldn’t afford to dwell on it for too long.

"Oh, Lord, Colton," she said, turning to him with concern. "I don’t think she’ll be able to do it. I’m worried about her condition."

Before the words could settle, I quickly interjected, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. "I will do it. I’m perfectly fine."

Mr. Colton placed his coffee on the glass table in front of him, the soft clink of the cup breaking the silence. He leaned back, studying me with a look of mild indifference. "Well then, we’ll see about that after you get examined at the hospital."

His sister—this woman I was now bound to in a way I hadn’t fully comprehended until this moment—nodded and looked at me with a soft, almost maternal gaze. "Yes, about that," she said gently. "Let’s head to the hospital for the examination. Then we’ll see from the tests." She turned to leave, adding, "I’ll grab my purse."

As she left the room, I turned to Mr. Colton, who now sat on a pristine white leather couch, looking unusually tired. His sharpness from earlier seemed to fade, leaving behind a weariness I hadn’t noticed before.

"Did you get in a fight with your boyfriend last night?" he asked, his tone almost casual, but his eyes were keen, searching for something beneath my guarded exterior.

I clenched my jaw. "I don’t have a boyfriend," I replied, my voice flat but defensive.

Mr. Colton shot me a look, one that said he wasn’t buying it.

I hesitated, then sighed. "Well... it was my ex. He always—" I stopped mid-sentence as the woman reappeared, her purse in hand.

"Let’s go," she said, cutting off any further explanation.

I was grateful for the interruption. I grabbed my scarf and quickly wrapped it back around my neck, pulling it tight to conceal the bruises and the shame that came with them. Without a word, I followed her out of the villa.

Mr. Colton stayed behind, watching us leave with a quiet intensity. There was no turning back now.