Morning light shimmered across the marble floors of Damian's mansion, the storm's fury spent but its echo still clinging to the air.
Ava stood before the tall library window, arms crossed, feet wide, breathing in the calm that felt both miraculous... and fragile. She watched the rain drip from ornate gutters as the world outside seemed to reset. But inside her chest, everything had changed.
Damian appeared across the room silently, his dark silhouette steady as a mountain against the swirling clouds. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to. His mere presence was enough to anchor her.
She turned, her voice soft. "What now?"
He paused, crossing the space between them with quiet authority. "Mario left," he said, his tone flat. "But he'll regroup."
Ava closed her eyes. "Is there a protocol? Something we do?"
Damian gazed at her with a strange tenderness. "We wait. We prepare. We do not strike first."
She unlocked her legs and headed to the nearby table where coffee steam curled in the soft morning light. "You didn't say goodnight," she teased softly.
He joined her at the table, cutting a fresh onion tart and plating it. "I was protecting you," he said simply.
She smiled, touched. "I know. And I needed that."
Their hands brushed over the plate. A moment of connection, unforced and easy, though weighted with everything between them.
Meanwhile: Mario's Panic back in the cavernous living room of the Huxley mansion, Bryan stood staring at the blasted photo of Ava and Damian, the edges of the frame warped from the chaos of his outburst. He paced, fury spiraling into confusion.
He picked up his phone trembling.
"Where is she?" raspy voice filled with panic.
The fixer, calm and professional, answered: "In Lancaster's custody. Basically."
Mario dropped into a leather chair as if the world had narrowed to that moment. "I can't—damn it, I can't—"
"Sir," the fixer interjected, carefully. "Damian Lancaster holds the cards now. Any attempt to force entry or physical confrontation will result in legal and reputational destruction."
That stopped Mario cold. Damian's powers extended far beyond wealth. His reach touched law enforcement, his image unassailable in public opinion.
He swallowed. "Then… what do I do?"
"Wait."
Mario stared, chest heaving. The realization hit: he couldn't just take his wife back. Not from Damian.
In the Garden Ava, wearing a cashmere sweater and leggings, passed time watering exotic orchids Damian loved. The air smells of damp earth and velvet petals, a world away from chaos. Damian approached, carrying two steaming mugs.
"For you," he said, handing her the cup.
She sipped, savoring the warmth. "Better than hospital coffee."
He chuckled and bent down to water a white orchid. "I want you here. Safe, blooming."
She tilted her head. "Are… we in a war?"
He straightened, meeting her eyes. "If Mario wanted control, he chose the battlefield. Now I'm here to make sure it's a battlefield with boundaries."
Ava hugged a mug between her hands. "What does that look like?"
Strategy Meeting Damian led her to a small office beyond the garden. In it, his lawyer and the fixer waited, both looking grim but focused.
"Ms. Huxley," the lawyer greeted. Formality rang in his tone. "Your divorce is underway. Papers moved forward. Mario has thirty days to respond."
Ava swallowed. She'd signed, but the ramifications were hitting her more deeply now.
Damian handed her the papers and explained: "No scandal clause is in place. Any attempt at harassment reveals them null."
Ava's pulse quickened. "So if he tries anything—"
"He can't. Not safely."
The fixer stepped in: "We've built a shield. Legal, financial, media. Any slip in public behavior, especially violence, will bring Bryan under full legal scrutiny."
Ava sat, absorbing the depth of his preparation. "He's scared."
Damian nodded. "He has to be."
Meanwhile: Mia's Crisis in her bedroom, Mia wrapped a thin silk scarf around her neck, carefully hiding portion of the necklace amid folds. She rehearsed a statement for an upcoming interview — "It's just a beautiful gift from a friend."
Text from her mother arrived: Don't mess this up.
She fought tears. Today she realized the necklace, fame, connections — they were built on fragile ground. A single misstep and Mario's anger, Damian's reputation, public scorn; it all could collapse.
Damian and Ava's Confession outside, midday light warmed the courtyard. Damian and Ava found themselves sharing silent moments at the circular stone bench.
"I still feel dizzy," she admitted.
He took her hand. "What if you didn't? What if you let yourself imagine, for a moment, a life with me?"
She touched his palm. "What would that mean?"
"It would mean rebuilding," he said tenderly. "From this mess, we build something real. Something strong." He brushed a damp strand of hair behind her ear. "I believe in us."
Tears welled. She pressed her forehead to his. "I want to."
They didn't need more words. The bridge of hope was there — tentative, trembling, beautiful.
Mario's Missteps later that day, a loud ring shattered the calm. Damian's office phone buzzed. He answered with a measured tone.
"Yes?"
A voice paused on the other end before saying: "I know you think you're protecting her. But this isn't done. I'm coming for her. And you'll regret it."
Damian's expression remained calm. "Try me."
Click. The line went dead.
Damian looked at Ava. "He tried."
She shivered. "What do we do?"
He crossed to her side. "We stand together."
Night — Forced face off an official event: the local business awards gala. Damian insisted she attend, and she agreed, dressing in silk that shimmered under the chandeliers.
They arrived to applause. Mario tuned in through live feed, watching Damian restore dignity to his wife in real time.
But at the gala, amid speeches and glitter, a moment broke through: Mia stepped up to speak, mentioning the sapphire necklace and praising a "generous friend." The assembled guests whispered. Damian's jaw stiffened but he nodded once, controlled.
Ava watched Damian's hand tighten around hers — a silent promise. He caught her eye. Thank you.
The Threat Approaches the night ended in applause, but back at the mansion, Damian paced in the darkness.
Ava found him near the library window.
"He tried to reach me," she said quietly.
Damian nodded. "He's escalating. But he knows now he can't break you."
Lightning flashed and thunder rolled from far horizons. Ava understood the storm was inside them as much as outside.
Suddenly — footsteps. A single knock. A vehicle's engine outside.
Damian's posture snapped to rigid. Ava's pulse slammed.
The door creaked. Damian motioned her back.
A dark silhouette stood in the portal, rain dripping off a sharply turned-up collar.
A lone envelope hung from a silver string around the figure's wrist.
Damian whispered, "You weren't ready for this... were you?"
Ava shook her head, heart pounding.