Lahat ng Kabanata ng under his control : Kabanata 21 - Kabanata 30

Ava’s POVI woke to the smell of espresso, something cinnamon-adjacent burning in the kitchen, and Liam Carter singing badly to a Frank Sinatra record like he had lost a bet with the universe.It was glorious.I rolled over and stretched, my body still humming from the whirlwind of last night’s midnight amusement park escapade and flower shop chaos. It felt surreal, almost like a fever dream—except the glitter from the cotton candy was still stuck in my hair and my hoodie smelled vaguely of Ferris wheel grease and cheap perfume.The door creaked open.Liam stood in the doorway holding a tray: two mugs, something resembling toast, and a bowl of fruit that looked far too curated to be natural.He was shirtless. Hair is a mess. Grinning like a man who knew he’d won something.“Morning, queen of chaos,” he said.“Morning, king of delusion,” I replied, sitting up.He set the tray down and kissed my temple.“I attempted breakfast,” he announced proudly. “Minimal casualties this time. The to

Ava’s POVLiam Carter’s idea of a small engagement dinner was, apparently, a rooftop soirée catered by a five-star chef, with fairy lights, live jazz, and place cards written in calligraphy so ornate I wasn’t sure if I’d been invited or knighted.Jenna showed up with a folder labeled “Operation Wedding Domination”, while Morgan immediately began critiquing the wine like a snob possessed.“This rosé has notes of betrayal,” she declared, swirling her glass.“It’s literally pink grape juice,” I said.“Exactly,” she replied gravely.Liam hadn’t left my side all evening, his fingers brushing mine every chance he got. He was relaxed tonight. Happy. And dare I say it—giddy. I’d never seen him like this. It was almost alarming.“This might be your final transformation,” I teased. “From corporate villain to romantic marshmallow.”“I’m still terrifying,” he said.“You’re wearing a boutonnière made of lavender.”“Which smells amazing, and I regret nothing.”I leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You

Liam’s POV I’ve faced down boardrooms of billionaires. Been in rooms where silence was sharper than a knife. I’ve been betrayed by men who once called me brother and rebuilt my empire from ash. But I have never felt fear like this. The kind that doesn’t scream—it whispers. Curls around your spine. Sinks its claws into the back of your throat. Because Ava is missing. And I don’t know where the hell she is. Twelve hours earlier, she kissed me goodbye. It was early morning, her hair in a messy bun, wearing my old T-shirt and sipping black coffee like she was preparing for war. “I’m going to confront Eliot,” she said. I’d paused mid-buttoning my shirt. “Absolutely not.” “I need answers,” she said. “Face-to-face. I want him to see that I’m not afraid of him.” “He’s not just a man, Ava. He’s a weapon. Victoria’s weapon. He manipulated you, forged documents under your name—he won’t just admit it over croissants and espresso.” “I’m not expecting a confession. I’m expecting to wat

LIAM’S POV The storm had been brewing for days. We just didn’t realize how fast it would break. The moment we received the coordinates—an abandoned shipping yard on the far edge of the city—Morgan pulled the security footage. Edward King’s convoy had been using the facility for weeks. Three unmarked black trucks, guards rotated on 12-hour shifts, drones overhead. Classic. Too classic. “This is a trap,” I muttered, scanning the layout Morgan displayed on the war table. She nodded. “But it’s our trap now.” Ava stood beside me, silent but steel-spined. She hadn’t flinched since the threat came in—the rooftop photo of her from that hidden angle. Whoever sent it wanted fear. Instead, they went to war. “We go tonight,” Ava said. I turned to her. “You stay here.” She raised a brow. “No. I walk in with you.” “Ava—” “No. This ends tonight.” By 1:22 a.m., we arrived in silence. Four vehicles. Tactical vests. Comms. No sirens. No lights. The yard was vast, cold, and soaked in s

The night was heavy against the glass walls of my office. Uneven trails rained, almost deliberately how it blurred the city's light. For hours, I was sitting here with the jacket, the tie loose, the shirt sleeve rolled back, yet the desk remained disorganized with the papers that I did not read, the deals I did not sign, the numbers that I did not process. Whatever I have touched, it reminds me of it. Ava Her absence had become a second skin, something I had taken to sleep. Or what was passed for it. Every night, her voice would soften, sharp, disregard my dreams. Then I woke up in silence, and the silence was louder than anything. I should have been used to grief till now. My life was a long rehearsal for my father, betrayal, and endless war against men who wore power like another face. But losing the good had made something different outside me. It was not just sorrow. It was guilty, a poisonous type that questioned every decision I made that took us here. And ye