Leonel~~~The court goes into an uproar.People screaming in agreement or dissatisfaction about the ruling fill my ears, and the once organized court falls into mayhem.But I don't care. All I hear in my head over and over again is the word, “guilty.”The part of me that felt like I would rejoice in the presence of my father’s pain is nowhere to be found, and instead, when I turn to him, the little boy in me feels the urge to run up to him and apologise.Alexander’s eyes pop open, and I just know this moment is going to be plastered on every Channel 5 news station tonight. He looks so unlike himself, not the giant who raised me to be perfect, to be terrified.It's his turn to be afraid.The judge's gavel bangs down hard, but the barrage of voices only crescendos. “He didn't do anything wrong!” yells one woman, who immediately gets into a fight with the man beside her. Papers fly and a file hits the wall beside the judge's head, and that's when the clerk decides that enough is enou
Leonel ~~~ “I don't care how long it takes; find this Gillian Garrish and take that damn article down!” I bark at my phone. The PR person I contacted from The Billionaire Ballard is a man who had been cocky when he answered the phone, but whose voice withered the moment I said my name. Now, he shakily replies on the other end. “S-sir. While I understand your frustration at the way your fiancée was depicted, there’s nothing… there’s nothing I-I can do. The Billionaire Ballard stated that it was an opinion piece, and you can't exactly sue us for having an opinion.” Like hell I can't. I squeeze my steering wheel until my knuckles go white. I'll show the fucker what I can and can't do. “Listen.” I growl, and I swear I hear him yelp, “You seem to have forgotten who the hell I am. If I don't see that article taken down in less than 24 hours, I’ll knock your-” “Whoa, okay!” Oliver takes my phone from my hand, and it takes the full force of my self-control not to reach over and take
Ava ~~~ Leonel doesn’t call me. No calls or texts or secret men from his personnel spying outside my hotel room (at least not since the last time my security checked) I fiddle with my necklace and try to ignore the knawing in my heart. This is what I wanted, complete independence from his control. The distance will be good for us, and when it's done, I'm sure we’ll come back stronger. I mean... Not like I care. “Ava, sweetie.” Evie coos, snapping me out of my Leonel-centred thoughts. I mumble the most distracted noise I’ve ever made in my life, instantly cringing from the neediness of it. Evelyn and Oliver slowly turn to each other at the sound, and I have never wanted anything more than for the ground to open up and swallow me whole. Or better yet, to swallow them whole. At least if I'm still alive I wouldn't miss it when Leonel calls. Not like I care. As always, Oliver feels inspired to give a piece of his mind that no one asked for, “Ava, I am sacrificing p
Leonel ~~~ “Leonel Goddamn Sinclair!” Ava's voice bangs into my boardroom like a bomb. My hand tenses around the file I’m holding. Fucking perfect, time for me to face the bloody music. I’d come into my office to distract me from the hell I knew Ava would unleash the moment she got home, but also because - with the whole trial going on- I’ve barely tended to Axion tech. I guess a few hours after announcing I’m getting married in three weeks without your fiancée’s consent isn’t the best time to restart caring for a business. I stand, bracing myself. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad? The doors to the boardroom burst open with a clatter, revealing Ava’s tense form. “Leonel.” She breathes out, her face contorted, “You better have the best explanation in the entire world right now if you don’t want me to cut off your dick and feed it to the press!” I deflate. Okay… so it’s very bad. I run a rigid hand through my hair, “ Mi Valienta, you’re home.” And despite all the tens
Ava ~~~ There are many ways to tell a girl her father was possibly murdered by her ex. This was not one of those ways. I shake my head, eyes darting around the room to ignore the sinking feeling that has me in its grasp. “No…no… that doesn’t -“ “Shit.” Nicco curses, “I shouldn’t have said it like that but I mean, think it through, Ava.” “No, my father left me!” I snap at him, the noose around my neck tightening. “No, Ava. My father left me 6 times and this pattern you’re describing? Not the way abusive dads leave.” He drawls it out, like what he’s saying doesn’t shake my entire worldview; everything I know and everything I am. My anger bubbles, and the only person I can think about directing it at is him. What right did he have to call me here, to involve himself in my family’s shit? “Fuck you.” I spit before hastily grabbing my phone. I stand quickly, rushing for the door. But Nicco is just as fast, and I feel him yank me from behind, pulling me till I crash
Ava ~~~ To Nicco’s credit, he doesn’t take me to the middle of nowhere like I expected. The limo pulls up in a nice area of the city, one with large boulevards and blaring sunlight that makes it look like we’re in a Disney movie. It’s cute. It’s also not where I expected someone like him would live. When I walk up to the front door and knock, I half expect Cinderella to come twirling out of the house with a smile and some tea cakes. Instead, it creaks open just a crack, and unfamiliar faded brown eyes stare at me delightedly. “Can I help you?” The little old lady croaks. I freeze, not sure what to say. I’m not exactly the person you call to deal with elders, not with a knife in my pocket or the history I have. Right as I’m about to apologise and tell her this must be the wrong house, Nicco’s harassed voice calls from inside. “Mum, I told you to stay by the window and not open the door!” He sounds as frustrated as his rushing footsteps, likely hurrying to sav