All Chapters of under his control : Chapter 111 - Chapter 120

Ava POV The cold liquid burned through my veins before I even realized Victoria had started the transfusion. My body arched off the metal table as if something inside me tried to escape. The machines surrounding me beeped wildly green and red lights flashing against my vision until they blurred into streaks of color. I couldn’t breathe. It felt like drowning from the inside out. Victoria stood beside me, calm, unshaken, her lips curling in satisfaction. “You should be proud, Ava,” she murmured, her voice smooth and terrifying. “You’re becoming what you were always meant to be. My legacy.” Her words echoed in my skull, but another sound fought to rise beneath it a heartbeat. Not mine. Louder. Steady. Familiar. Liam’s. It pulsed somewhere deep inside my memory, a rhythm I had known even when I hated him. I tried to move, but the restraints cut into my wrists. The pain intensified. My vision clouded. For a moment, I saw flashes of my father’s face, his tired eyes, his shaking hands

Smoke still curled through the corridors as we stumbled into what was left of the lower deck. My legs ached. My body trembled with every step, but I refused to stop. Liam’s arm was around my waist, dragging me forward through the haze. Behind us, the flames roared, consuming the empire Victoria built from blood and ruin. Then I heard it faint, broken. A cough. “Liam, wait.” He stopped, his chest heaving, eyes darting to me. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The sound came again, weaker this time. My heart clenched. It came from behind a pile of collapsed metal beams. We moved the debris together, grunting through the pain until the twisted metal gave way and there he was. Morgan. He was half-buried in the rubble, blood staining his clothes. His face was pale, eyes glassy, but when he saw us, he smiled faintly. “Took you long enough.” “Morgan ” I fell to my knees beside him, brushing the soot from his face. “You shouldn’t have ” “Shot her?” He laughed softly, a rasp more than

Ava pov The world outside the courthouse didn’t look like the one I used to know. Cameras flashed like lightning. People shouted my name, some with praise, others with venom. And all I could think about was how the truth had come at too high a price. Carter West’s empire had fallen, yet the ashes still clung to my skin. Every testimony I gave felt like reopening an old wound. I stood behind the wooden podium, my voice steady but my heart trembling. The judge’s eyes were heavy, the jury’s faces unreadable. When I said “My name is Ava Morgan, and I was one of their experiments,” the room went silent. It wasn’t easy to strip myself bare before the world to tell them about the injections, the surveillance, the manipulation, the fear. To admit that the company that built half the world’s technology had used human beings as its foundation. Liam sat in the back row, his face a blend of pride and pain. He hadn’t said much these past days. Maybe there were no words left for what we’d been

Ava pov The air in the apartment felt heavier that morning, like the walls were holding their breath. Every sound was louder than it should’ve been: the click of the clock, the soft rustle of curtains, the whisper of my own pulse in my ears. Liam hadn’t spoken to me since last night. The photos were still on the table, their edges curling where he’d gripped them too tight. I’d stared at them until my eyes burned, trying to make sense of something that didn’t belong to my memory. The night of the fire. The vault door. My hand with the keycard. It wasn’t possible. Except there I was. He’d gone for a walk before dawn, probably to clear his head or to wonder what else I hadn’t told him. When he came back, his hair was wet from the rain, his shirt clinging to his chest. He didn’t say anything. Just brushed past me and poured himself a drink. “Liam,” I said quietly. He didn’t look up. “How long were you going to hide it?” “I didn’t hide anything. I didn’t even know those pictures ex

Ava pov The sound of rain always comforted me once. It used to remind me of renewal, of second chances. But lately, it only felt like a warning: soft, relentless, and impossible to silence. That morning, when I woke, Liam was gone. The side of the bed still held his warmth, but his scent was fading. I tried calling him, but the line went straight to voicemail. It wasn’t unusual for him to vanish early meetings, contacts, a thousand invisible strings he never explained but something felt different this time. The air in the apartment was heavy, still humming with his restlessness. Something had shifted between us last night, even though we hadn’t said much. He’d kissed my forehead before bed, but his hands had trembled. I should have noticed more. I should have asked. I tried to distract myself by making tea, by breathing. By pretending I wasn’t afraid. But my body wouldn’t stop shaking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the pregnancy or the creeping unease that had taken r