Ava’s POV

It’s been almost a week since the night everything went down. A week of silence. A week of avoiding familiar places and faces, especially him. I haven’t stepped foot in the mansion since that night. Instead, I moved a few things into my private suite—a temporary escape, or so I tell myself. It’s quiet, peaceful, exactly what I need.

I haven’t seen Orion once in the past six days. Good for him, and even better for me. I don’t think I could stomach looking at his smug, stupid face without feeling the urge to slap him. He doesn’t deserve my time or my thoughts, yet here I am thinking about him again. Old habits, I suppose.

The one thing keeping me grounded is Holly. Her surgery went well—better than we’d dared to hope. But I can’t rest easy. Not while things are still so uncertain. So, I made a decision. Holly is leaving the country. It’s the only way to keep her safe, far away from my father’s mess, Orion’s betrayal, and the endless rivalry with the Jamesons. She deserves more than this chaos.

I’ve already enrolled her in a prestigious school abroad and hired one of the best bodyguards money can buy. No detail has been overlooked. She’ll be safe, and that’s all that matters to me.

As for Uncle Theo… everything he said checked out. He’s my uncle. My real uncle. After a little digging, I confirmed it. But he insisted we hold off on confronting my father or the Jamesons until he returns with a solid plan. So, we wait. He left on another business trip, promising he wouldn’t be gone long. He asked me not to take any action until he gets back, no matter how tempting it might be.

Then there’s Mason. If it weren’t for him, I’m not sure I’d have made it through this week with my sanity intact. He’s been my constant—a steady presence, always there when I need him. No questions, no judgment. Just… him.

A knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I call, expecting yet another delivery of paperwork. Instead, Mason walks in, that familiar grin on his face, hands stuffed casually into his pockets.

“Hi, hi,” he says, his voice light and teasing. “So, I came to take you out for lunch, ma’am boss. Aren’t you tired of working yourself into the ground?”

I can’t help but smile, though I try to hide it. “Nope. Not tired. Working helps me pretend that everything is normal. It’s my antidote to all the madness. So please, leave me to drown in it.” I chuckle softly, hoping he’ll drop it.

But Mason doesn’t laugh. Instead, his expression shifts—serious, thoughtful. He closes the distance between us, resting his hands on either side of my office chair, effectively caging me in.

“Do you miss him?” he asks quietly, his voice low and direct.

The question catches me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it, and for a second, I forget how to breathe. But the answer comes quickly, almost too quickly. “Of course not!” I snap, my tone sharper than intended.

Mason studies me, his dark eyes searching mine for something I’m not ready to give. A slow smile tugs at his lips, and before I can say anything else, he leans in, wrapping his arms around me in a warm hug.

I let myself relax, just for a moment. It feels good—safe, even. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push me further. He just holds me, and it’s enough.

After a beat, he pulls back slightly but keeps his hands on my shoulders. “Come on,” he says softly. “Let’s grab some lunch. You can’t survive on coffee and paperwork alone.”

I sigh, knowing he won’t give up until I agree. “Fine. But only because you’re annoyingly persistent.”

“Hey, I’ll take that as a compliment,” he laughs, already guiding me toward the door.

The ride to the restaurant is quiet but comfortable. Mason doesn’t fill the silence with pointless chatter, and I’m grateful for that. Instead, I focus on the city outside, letting the familiar streets ground me.

We arrive at a small Italian bistro, one I’ve never been to before. It’s charming, cozy, with warm lighting and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air. Mason holds the door open for me, and I step inside, instantly feeling a little more at ease.

We pick a table by the window, away from the crowd. The view of the bustling street outside provides a welcome distraction. After we order, Mason leans forward, resting his chin on his hand as he watches me.

“You look better today,” he says casually, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

I raise an eyebrow. “Better?”

“Yeah. Less stressed, more like… you.”

I roll my eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still drowning in work.”

He laughs, and for a moment, everything feels… normal. Like it used to.

Our food arrives, and the conversation flows easily. Mason has a way of making me forget, even if only for a little while. But, as always, reality has a way of intruding when you least expect it.

I glance up from my plate, and my breath catches in my throat. Sitting across the room, not too far away, is Orion.

He hasn’t noticed me—yet. But that doesn’t stop the flood of memories from hitting me like a freight train. I grip my fork tightly, forcing myself to stay calm.

‘He’s not worth it. He’s not worth anything’. I kept replaying these words in my head, willing it to make sense but it started sounding like gibberish.

Beside him, Chloe sits with a smug expression, her hand resting possessively on his arm. They look… perfect together, like the couple they always wanted to be. My chest tightens, but I refuse to show any emotion. I won’t give them the satisfaction.

Just as I’m about to turn back to Mason, something catches my attention. Chloe is looking right at me. Our eyes meet, and a dark smirk plays on her lips, as if she knows exactly what she’s doing.

I meet her gaze head-on, refusing to look away first. After a few tense seconds, I turn back to Mason, my heart pounding in my chest.

‘What is she plotting now?’ I mumble to myself.

“Everything okay?” Mason asks, concern lacing his voice, as he places his hands on mine, a simple gesture that made me feel warm.

“Yeah,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Let’s just eat.”

But deep down, I know this isn’t over. Chloe isn’t the type to let things go, and whatever she’s plotting, I’ll be ready for it this time.