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|| Ava' POV ||
The fact that my life was far from perfect was a fact I had to live with and of course make myself embrace ever since I was a young girl.
I had a father who gambled away everything he touched…and a brother who treated me like something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe…and a condition that made the whole world see me as less than human.
I had long stopped expecting things to go smoothly. Until I met and fell in love with Xander three years ago. He had been the one person who just made it enough to keep going regardless of what the whole world thought of me.
Never in a million years did I think or imagine that a day would come where I would watch my entire life as I knew it fall apart before my very own eyes.
But that was what was happening now….that was what I was seeing as I looked at Xander from across the table at the restaurant he had chosen for our Valentine's Day dinner.
The candles between us flickered. Couples at nearby tables laughed and fed each other dessert. And Xander sat there with an expression so cold it made the air around us feel like January, staring somewhere just past my shoulder like he could not bring himself to look directly at me.
He had just broken up with me.
On Valentine's Day.
I counted twenty full seconds in my head, waiting for him to crack. Waiting for him to laugh and say it was a joke, some strange prank that I would eventually forgive him for because he would spend the rest of the evening making it up to me. But the twenty seconds passed. Then thirty. And the coldness on his face never shifted.
His words rang over and over in my head: "I want to break up with you."
I raised my hands and signed, Xander, what do you mean? You cannot be serious.
His jaw tightened. "See? That. That right there is exactly my point." He gestured toward my hands with barely concealed irritation. "This is fucking embarrassing, Ava. Don't you get it? Going out with someone like you — all the hand waving, people staring like we are some kind of circus act. I cannot keep doing this. This is not the life I want."
His words landed in the center of my chest, sharp like they were a dagger digging through my skin.
How could he say that to me? This was Xander — the same man who had held my face in his hands two Christmases ago and told me that my silence was the most peaceful thing he had ever known.
The same man who had learned to sign basic phrases just so I would never feel left out of a conversation when we were together.
He had vowed, with his whole chest and both eyes open, to love every part of me. And I had believed him, because he was the only person in my life — after my mother died — who had ever made me feel like my muteness was not a defect to be ashamed of. He had made me feel seen in a way that no one else ever had, not even close.
Now he sounded exactly like my father. Exactly like my brother.
I signed again, slower this time, because I needed him to understand what he was doing. Xander, what is happening right now? Talk to me. Whatever this is, we can work through it.
"I am done with the theatrics!" His voice rose sharply enough that the couple at the next table glanced over. He did not seem to care. "Can you not get it through your head? Or does being mute mean you are stupid too? I said I am done, Ava. Done with you. All of this. I cannot fucking take this anymore so there is nothing to work through. You…embarrass me and I am tired of pretending that things are forever going to be a ray of sunshine between us."
Pretending?
Before I could raise my hands to sign something else, he stood up quickly, pushed his chair back hard enough that it scraped against the floor, and walked out of the restaurant without once looking back at me.
I sat there and stared at the space where he had been.
My vision blurred at the edges, but I refused to let the tears fall. Not here.
I breathed in slowly through my nose and out through my mouth, pressing my hands flat against my thighs under the table, anchoring myself to the present. I was not going to fall apart in public. I was not.
I stood up on legs that were not entirely steady, gathered my coat and my bag, and walked out.
By the time I got to our house four blocks away, the willpower I had been using to hold myself together was already near its finishing point and all I wanted was to head straight to my room, lock myself up and cry it all out…because my chest was so heavy that it hurt.
I pushed the front door open — and stopped.
My brother, Daniel, was standing in the middle of the sitting room with three police officers. His eyes were puffy and red, like he had been crying for a while.
Oh God, what had he done this time?
Or perhaps my father had gotten himself into another problem with his gambling and debts.
He looked up the moment I stepped in, and his face immediately contorted in anger when he saw me.
"Where the hell have you been?" he snapped.
"I was on a date with Xander." I signed, stepping further into the room. "What is going on here? Where is dad?"
One of the officers stepped forward with a sad expression that made my heart leap. "Miss Ava," he said quietly, "we are very sorry. Your father was found in his office a few hours ago. We have reason to believe he took his own life."
Ava's POVPriya spread three folders across the conference table, each one thicker than it had any right to be for what amounted, in the end, to a dead end wearing a legal binder's clothing."Meridian Holdings dissolved eighteen months before Daniel's collapse became public," she said, flipping to a tabbed page. "The registered agent — the same lawyer we found on three other shell entities during last year's forensic audit — filed the dissolution personally. No successor entity named. No forwarding address for the principals."‘So it's a dead end.’"Not entirely dead. The mail-forwarding address currently using that suite number, the one your investor calls route through — it's a legitimate corporate services firm, been operating there for two years. They took over the lease after Meridian vacated. On paper, there's no direct line connecting the two." Priya closed the folder, frustration written plainly across her face, the specific frustration of a lawyer who preferred clean answers
Adrian's POVI fired an intern's draft back to him three separate times over a formatting inconsistency that would have taken me thirty seconds to fix myself, and only realized how disproportionate my reaction had been when Grady quietly closed my office door on his way out, the kind of gesture that meant — everyone on this floor currently thinks you're impossible to work with today.He wasn't wrong. It had been impossible for four days running, ever since a sheet of paper with two names on it had gone into my desk drawer and stayed there, unresolved, sitting like a live wire I kept circling without ever once touching.I threw myself at the Hendricks close instead, at three other deals that didn't strictly need my direct attention, at a due diligence file from the Chicago team that I read cover to cover twice purely because reading it meant I didn't have to think about anything else. Work had always been the one place my discipline never failed me. It failed me considerably less well
Ryan's POVI texted her at five. Dinner. My treat, no reason. Say yes.Ava: No fever, no crisis, no forgotten granola bar to guilt me with?Correct. Just dinner.Ava: Bold of you.I contain multitudes.Ava: Come at seven. Nora goes down around seven-thirty, so you'll get maybe twenty minutes of chaos before it's just us.I showed up at six-fifty with a bag from the Italian place near my building instead of the usual Thai, figured the evening deserved a change of routine to match the change in occasion, and Ava opened the door in leggings and an oversized sweater, hair loose around her shoulders in a way I rarely saw outside her own apartment, feet bare against the hardwood."You look like you're about to run a board meeting," I said.‘I'm not.’ She stepped back to let me in, and something about the easy way she did it — no hesitation, no calculation, just an open door — landed heavier in my chest than it probably should have for something so small. ‘That's the whole point of tonight,
Ava's POVNora was down for the night, Marta gone home an hour ago, and I sat on my own couch with a glass of wine I'd poured and mostly forgotten about, the Meridian Holdings discovery still turning over in my head like a stone I couldn't stop worrying with my thumb.I picked up my phone twice to call Sophie, to run the shell-company thread one more time before I let myself sleep on it, and put it down both times, because Sophie had already gone home to her own life, and this particular itch didn't actually need solving tonight. It needed something else. I sat with that realization a moment before I let myself admit what the something else was.I called Ryan.He answered on the second ring, no urgency in his voice, which told me he hadn't assumed a crisis the way he usually did lately when my name came up on his screen after nine at night. "Hey. Everything okay?":Everything's fine. I typed, since a video call felt like too much and a voice call meant Sophie's voice standing in for m
Adrian's POVPatterson called on a Thursday, mid-afternoon, while I was standing in the study reading the same clause in the Hendricks amendment I'd read four times already that week without once absorbing it."Mr. Cole. Sorry it took as long as it did." Her voice carried the particular relief of someone finally closing a loose thread they'd been chewing on for days. "I found the name. It wasn't in the formal visitor log — I told you it wouldn't be — but one of our night staff kept a personal notebook back then, informal sign-ins for anyone who came through after hours without a scheduled appointment. Old habit of hers, thankfully. She still had it.""And.""Felicity Marsh." She said it plainly, no weight attached on her end, a name that meant nothing to her beyond a line in an old notebook. "Came through asking almost the exact same questions you did. About a year ago, based on the date next to the entry."I said nothing for a moment, turning the name over, waiting for recognition to
Vivian's POVI'd pulled the fifteen thousand out in three separate withdrawals over four days, small enough that no single transaction should have flagged anything, and still I'd checked Adrian's shared calendar obsessively the whole week, half-certain he'd somehow already noticed and was simply choosing when to ask.He hadn't asked. That should have relieved me more than it did.Felicity's contact wanted to meet in person this time — no more phone calls, no more careful half-answers traded across a wine bar table. A parking garage on the east side of downtown, level three, an hour after the offices around it had emptied out for the night. I'd dressed down for it, deliberately, nothing that would catch a stranger's eye, and still felt exposed walking across that concrete deck in low heels that echoed louder than I wanted them to.He was already there when I arrived — not Felicity, someone else, a man in his forties with the kind of forgettable face that told me he'd built a career out
{Ava's POV}I stared at the message I had just sent and listened to my heart pound.Mr. Harold Bennett had been my father's closest friend and business partner for nearly two decades — the kind of man who had been a fixture at our dinner table when my mother was still alive, who had always spoken to
{Ava's POV}I watched Adrian step out of the room to take his call and felt my shoulders sink under the weight of something I was too tired to name. The nerve of him — walking in here with that blank, impenetrable expression, as though I was the one who had done something wrong. As though I was the
{Ryan's POV}I was still thinking about it an hour after it happened.I had watched a lot of people handle difficult moments in professional settings over the past few years — had sat across boardroom tables from men twice my age crumbling under pressure, had watched people with far more experience
Ava’s POV~~~"I hate you to the bone, do you know that?"His voice hit me before I even had a chance to fully process what was happening. I had been standing by the living room entrance when Adrian came in, and I had made the mistake — the same mistake I made every single day — of hoping that today







