LOGINPOV: Selene Castellano
The prep session started at nine AM sharp.
Selene sat in Diana’s conference room, coffee growing cold in front of her, while the attorney ran through potential questions with the efficiency of someone who’d done this a thousand times.
“They’ll start with the background,” Diana said, flipping through her notes. “Easy stuff. Name, occupation, how you met Avalon. Then they’ll move to the timeline. When you reconnected, what was discussed, when you agreed to marry.”
“And that’s where it gets complicated,” Selene said.
“That’s where you tell the truth simply. You reconnected because of Nene’s will. You discussed the requirements. You agreed to marry for multiple reasons—the money for Maya’s treatment, honoring Nene’s wishes, and unresolved feelings for Avalon.”
“That sounds calculated when you say it like that.”
“It sounds honest. Which is better than calculated.” Diana fixed her with a steady gaze. “Selene, here’s what you need to understand. Sullivan is going to try to make you look like either a gold digger or a liar. Your job is to be neither. Your job is to be human.”
“How?”
“By not hiding your motivations. Yes, you needed money. Yes, the will created an opportunity. Yes, you had feelings for Avalon that never went away. All of those things can be true simultaneously. The key is owning all of it.”
Avalon, sitting beside Selene, spoke up. “What about the miscarriage? How detailed will they get?”
Diana’s expression softened slightly. “Detailed. I’m sorry, but they will. They’ll ask when Selene found out she was pregnant, what she did, who she told. They’ll ask about Catherine’s threats. They’ll ask why she didn’t tell you, Avalon, and whether she considered telling you later.”
Selene felt her throat tighten. “And I just—tell them everything?”
“Everything relevant. You don’t need to describe medical details unless they specifically ask. But yes, you tell them about the pregnancy test, about Catherine showing up, about the threats, about the miscarriage. And you tell them why you made the choices you made.”
“Even though those choices hurt Avalon?”
“Especially because those choices hurt Avalon. Because that’s the context Sullivan will try to use against you. He’ll paint you as someone who makes selfish decisions without considering consequences. You need to show that’s not true—that you made impossible choices in impossible circumstances and you’ve carried the weight of them ever since.”
They ran through questions for another hour. Diana playing Sullivan, Selene answering, Avalon listening and occasionally interjecting when something didn’t sound right.
“What’s your current relationship with Avalon Pierce?”
“We’re married. We’re building a life together. We’re in therapy working through our past.”
“Do you love him?”
“Yes.”
“When did you fall in love with him?”
“I fell in love with him in college. I never really fell out of it, even when I left. I just buried it.”
“Does he love you?”
This was the one that made Selene hesitate every time.
“He’s working on it. He’s been honest that he’s not there yet, but he’s trying. And I respect that honesty.”
Diana nodded approvingly. “Good. Don’t oversell it. Don’t claim something you can’t prove. Just be honest about where you both are.”
They broke for lunch—sandwiches delivered to the conference room, eaten mechanically while Diana reviewed the timeline one more time.
“The money is the hardest part,” she said, pulling up the bank records. “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, transferred three days before your wedding. Sullivan is going to hammer this. He’ll imply—or outright state—that Avalon bought your agreement to marry.”
“He helped with Maya’s treatment,” Selene said. “That’s not buying me.”
“From Sullivan’s perspective, the effect is the same. You needed money, Avalon provided it, you married him. Cause and effect.”
“But it wasn’t that simple.”
“I know. So explain the complexity. Avalon offered to help with Maya’s healthcare before you’d agreed to marry him. You initially refused. He had to convince you to accept. Those details matter.”
Selene nodded, trying to memorize the sequence.
By three PM, her head was swimming with responses and counter-responses, with phrases that sounded good and phrases that would be used against her.
Diana finally closed her notes. “I think we’re ready. Selene, you’ve done this well. Just remember—tomorrow, no one in that room knows you except Sullivan, and he’s been paid to think the worst. Your job is to show them who you actually are. Not perfect. Not calculating. Just human.”
After Diana left to prepare for another case, Selene and Avalon sat alone in the conference room.
“You’re going to be great tomorrow,” Avalon said.
“How can you know that?”
“Because I’ve seen you be great in impossible situations. The board meeting. The press conference. Dinner with my mother. You show up even when you’re terrified. That’s what tomorrow requires.”
Selene leaned her head on his shoulder. “I keep thinking about what Margaret said. That I love you in a terrifying way. She’s right. This whole thing terrifies me.”
“What the whole thing?”
“This, us. The fact that I’m putting myself through a legal deposition to defend a marriage that started as a contract. The fact that I’m fighting this hard for something that might not work out.”
“Why are you fighting this hard?”
She lifted her head, looked at him. “Because it’s already working out, maybe not perfectly. Maybe not the way either of us planned. But we’re here. Together. Trying. That’s worth fighting for.”
Avalon cupped her face gently. “Tomorrow, when Sullivan asks if this marriage is real, I want you to think about this moment. Right now. Us sitting in a conference room after six hours of deposition prep, exhausted and scared, and still choosing to be here. That’s real. That’s what you tell them.”
“What if it’s not enough?”
“Then we try harder. But Selene—” his thumb traced her cheekbone, “—I think it will be enough. I think we will be enough.”
She wanted to believe him.
Tomorrow would test that belief.
That night, Selene couldn’t sleep.
She lay in bed running through potential questions, her answers, the ways Sullivan might twist her words. Beside her, Avalon’s breathing was steady but not quite relaxed. He was awake too.
“Tell me something good,” she said into the darkness. “Something that has nothing to do with tomorrow.”
He was quiet for a moment. “Maya texted me earlier. Said her latest scans look even better. Dr. Chen thinks she might be completely clear within a month.”
Warmth flooded through Selene. “She told you that? Not me?”
“She said she wanted me to know that the money I spent is working. That she’s grateful.”
“You saved her life.”
“We saved her life. You kept her alive for ten years before I showed up. I just helped with the final push.”
Selene rolled toward him, close enough to see his face in the dim light from the window.
“Thank you. For that. For everything.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do. Because you didn’t have to help. You could have just met the will’s requirements and kept your distance. But you didn’t. You showed up. For Maya, for me, for us. That matters.”
Avalon pulled her closer, and she settled against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
“Tomorrow’s going to be hard,” he said quietly. “Sullivan’s going to push every button he can find. But you’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone.”
“Promise you’ll be there? After?”
“Promise. Diana’s office. I’ll be watching the feed, and the second it’s over, I’ll be there.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
They lay together in the dark, gathering strength for what came next.
Tomorrow, Selene would sit across from Sullivan and defend her choices, her marriage, her love.
Tonight, she’d hold tight to the man those choices had brought back into her life.
And pray it was enough.
POV: Selene CastellanoThey didn’t once talk about Edward Hale.No one said let’s not talk about it — it was simply understood, the way certain things between two people who’ve been through enough together become understood without negotiation. Avalon put his phone face down on the counter when they got home. Selene didn’t open her laptop. The legal pads stayed in the bag.By some quiet agreement, the night belonged to neither of them.He ordered food without asking what she wanted.Thai, it turned out. From somewhere three blocks away that clearly knew him — the order arrived in twelve minutes, which meant it had been placed before she’d finished taking off her shoes. Paper bags, lemongrass, something fried that smelled like the best decision anyone had made all day.“You ordered without asking me,” she said.“You would have said you weren’t hungry.”“I’m not hungry.”“And yet.” He put a container in front of her.She ate three spring rolls before she said anything else.They sat on
POV: Avalon PierceAvalon had been to Diana’s office more times than he could count.He knew Colton, the lobby security guard — thick-necked, eleven years on the desk, still asked after Nene like she might walk through the door one day. He knew which elevator ran slow, knew Diana kept good coffee in her bottom desk drawer because the office blend tasted like burnt ambition and she had standards about certain things even when, apparently, she had none about others.He thought he knew her.That was the thing sitting in his chest as the elevator climbed, not anger but the understanding that familiarity and knowing someone are not the same thing and never were.Beside him, Selene watched the floor numbers change.She hadn’t said much since the coffee shop, nor had he. Some things need the silence between words before they can become real enough to speak about.The doors opened.The receptionist looked up with a smile that flickered when she registered their faces. “Mr & Mrs Pierce………I don
POV: Selene CastellanoShe read the message four times.The person who really sent those files to TechCrunch about Elena? It wasn’t Richard, nor was it Marcus. You will have to dig deeper.Four times and it refused to make sense.Because it had to be one of them, that was the story she’d constructed — carefully, over weeks — the story that gave the cruelty a shape she could live with. Richard had Elena’s birth certificate. He’d admitted standing in that hospital corridor while she fell apart, watching from a careful distance like she was something to be studied. Marcus had the resources, the connections, the motivation and the complete absence of conscience required.One of them had done it, that story made sense except apparently it was wrong.“We don’t know if they’re telling the truth,” Avalon said. Carefully. The specific careful way he spoke when he was managing his own alarm. “This person could be—”“Then why Elena specifically?” Her voice came out flat. Strange to her own ears.
POV: Selene CastellanoThe words hung in the air like a threat.She has the numbers to force you out completely.Selene watched Avalon’s jaw tighten saw him processing it the way he processed everything difficult — going very still, very quiet, while something worked behind his eyes.“What vote exactly?” he asked. His voice was too controlled.“A vote of no confidence in your leadership.” The distorted voice had no texture, no emotion you could read. Just mechanically flattened words coming through a phone speaker. “She’s been working the board all week. Calling members individually. Having private lunches. Very discreet.”“What is she telling them?”“That you’re unstable. The shooting affected your judgment and Selene’s trauma is bleeding into your decision-making.” A pause. “She’s also using your own interview against you, the one where you said you were questioning whether the company was worth the cost.”Selene closed her eyes briefly….of course she was.They’d planted that story
POV: Avalon PierceAvalon had been staring at his laptop for so long that the screen had gone blurry.Twenty-three minutes had gone by. He knew because he’d checked his phone twice, hoping someone would call and give him an excuse to look away from the files spread across the screen like accusations. Bank transfers. Emails. Contracts. All was pointing to Patricia Wong, sent by someone who wouldn’t tell them their name.Beside him, Selene shifted on the couch and her breath hitched—that small sound she made when pain caught her off guard. She was getting better at hiding it but not good enough, at least not from him.“We can’t use this,” she said.He looked over. She had her hand pressed against her side again, fingers spread over the bandages under her shirt. It has been three weeks since the shooting and some days she still looks like a strong wind might knock her over.“What do you mean we can’t use it?”“Think about it. Anonymous evidence? No chain of custody? Any lawyer worth thei
POV: Selene CastellanoRecovery was harder than getting shot at least the bullet had been quick. One moment she was standing, next moment bleeding, then nothing.But recovery? Recovery was endlessly slow and frustrating.Two weeks of bed rest felt like two years.Selene sat propped against pillows in their bedroom, staring at her laptop, she was trying to work but failing to concentrate.Her abdomen ached. The pain medication made her foggy and every time she shifted position, she was reminded that someone had put a bullet in her and her father was that someone who had done. She still couldn’t process that. For eighteen years she was wondering where he was, hoping he was okay and busy making excuses for why he’d left.And the whole time, he’d been alive, planning, scheming and her.Maya appeared in the doorway with tea.“You’re supposed to be resting, not working.”“I am going insane doing nothing.”“You were shot three weeks ago doing nothing is your job.” Maya set down the tea as







