All Chapters of For The Fifth Vow: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Sleep came in pieces that night.The St. James house held too much tension for rest to settle properly. Every creak sounded suspicious. Every car passing by felt like someone circling the block. Even the clock ticking in the hallway seemed louder, like it was keeping count of everyone’s heartbeat.Around midnight, Ava lay on the pull-out couch in the living room, staring at the ceiling fan spinning out an uneven rhythm. Ruth and Rory were in their bedroom. Theo was knocked out in an armchair, one shoe on, one shoe off. Mercedes and Bentley were on the other couch, their legs tangled, both pretending not to need the other’s presence. Abigail had gone home, but only after promising to come back in the morning with prayer and biscuits.Marcus hadn’t left.He sat by the window, jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled, watching the street outside with the kind of stillness that wasn’t really still at all. Ava could feel his awareness in the room even when he didn’t speak.She turned her head towa

Morning came wrapped in gray clouds and leftover tension.The St. James house had thinned out. Asher had gone home with strict instructions to answer his phone and not play hero. Bentley and Mercedes went with him, Mercedes refusing to let her cousin out of her sight. Genevieve left to “go pray and eavesdrop on the Lord,” which meant she’d be calling everyone by noon. Willie Lee shuffled off with his pie tins, relieved no one had used divorce as a pronoun that morning.It left Rory, Ruth, Theo, Abigail—and Ava.And into that smaller circle walked silence, the kind that shows up after a crisis and asks, Now what?Rory stood behind the bar at St. James Creole, looking at the empty dining room. Chairs still upside down on tables. Floors swept, lights off. The place looked like a body waiting for a heartbeat.Theo leaned against the entryway, arms folded. “You gonna open for lunch?”Rory stared at the bar. “Don’t know.”Theo frowned. “We need the money.”“We also need to be able to stand,

Morning sunlight filtered through the windows of St. James Creole like gold spilled over hardwood. The restaurant wasn’t open yet, but the kitchen was alive—pots warming, onions sweating, butter melting. Rory worked with the intensity of a man cooking through stress. Theo helped as best he could without getting in the way. Ruth hummed gospel while chopping herbs.And Marcus stood in the entryway, hands in his pockets, watching this world he was becoming part of.Ava slipped in behind him, touching his arm lightly. “You look like you’re about to adopt the whole restaurant.”He smiled. “I think it adopted me first.”She kissed his cheek—a soft, quick moment—then nodded toward Rory. “He’s pretending he’s not watching you.”Rory immediately cut his eyes over. “Yes, I am.”Ava gave Marcus an apologetic look.Rory wiped his hands on a towel and marched toward them. “Listen here, Marcus. We got to talk.”Theo stood taller. “Is this about the bachelor party?”“Boy, no,” Rory snapped. “This is

Marcus didn’t waste a second. Within an hour, a sleek, unmarked SUV rolled into Ava’s driveway, accompanied by two security vehicles that looked like ordinary cars but weren’t. Cameron stepped out first—dark suit, silent steps, eyes sharp as a blade.“Mrs. St. James,” he nodded when Ava met him at the door. “Everything is in place.”Ava studied him. “Lord, you look like you fight crime on your lunch break.”Cameron didn’t blink. “Only when needed.”Rory muttered, “See? Even the helpers look dangerous.”Asher appeared behind them, leaning on the doorframe. His color had improved, but his hands still trembled slightly. “Is this… all for me?”Marcus stepped forward. “This is for your safety. And for everyone attached to you.”Asher swallowed, torn between gratitude and humiliation. “I don’t know how to… receive this.”“You don’t have to know,” Marcus said gently. “You just accept it.”Mercedes hugged her father’s arm. “Daddy, it’s okay. Let somebody else be strong for you today.”Bentley

The night pressed thick against the windows of Ava’s home, the quiet unsettling after so many days of chaos. Marcus sat with her on the couch, their plates of homemade pasta empty between them, the candles burning low. The scent of basil drifted lazily between them, though neither paid much attention. Something heavier was in the room. Something unspoken.Ava leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. “You’re not here,” she murmured. “Your body is. Your mind’s somewhere else.”He hesitated. He couldn’t lie to her—not really—but he also couldn’t drag her into danger without understanding the entire scope.“My world’s complicated right now,” he said carefully. “I’m trying to simplify it.”Ava looked up at him. “Simplify? Baby, you’re a whole CEO, a gardener at midnight, a single father, and a man dating a seventy-year-old woman with more drama than the Housewives of Atlanta. How simple do you think this can get?”Marcus laughed despite himself. “You do make things… vivid.”“Good,” she s