Ava’s POV

I know when to let go—at least, I thought I did. But with Orion, it's different.

The drive back to the suite felt longer than it actually was. Each mile seemed to stretch further than the last, my mind replaying the moment when Orion had looked at me with that burning intensity. It was as though he wanted to drag me back into the mess he’d created, even after everything had unraveled.

And Chloe—she was the sharp edge of a knife, always there to twist the wound just when I thought I could heal. She had known exactly how to bait me. That smirk—how could I ever forget it? The way she stood by Orion, her every movement calculated, designed to provoke.

And yet, it was Orion who held my attention.

I shifted in the seat, letting my fingers graze the cool leather of the car door. I tried to focus on the present, on Mason’s calm presence beside me. He was the one I should be thinking about, the one who had been there, steady and unwavering.

Mason hadn’t said much since the restaurant. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his knuckles white. I could tell something was weighing on him. But what?

He glanced at me briefly, his gaze flicking to my face as though checking if I was still there, still present.

"You know," he began, his voice softer than it had been all afternoon, "you don’t have to do this alone."

I didn't know what he meant at first, but then I saw the vulnerability in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked quietly, my voice almost a whisper against the low hum of the engine.

He exhaled slowly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I know you think you're better off pushing people away, especially when it comes to him." His eyes flashed for a moment, that subtle tension creeping into his voice. "But you don’t have to. You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his words. For the briefest second, I felt something warm and soft stir within me, but I quickly shut it down.

"Mason..." I started, unsure of where my words were heading. "I can’t keep pretending that everything is fine. There’s too much...too much at stake right now."

His jaw clenched, and I saw him struggling with something—maybe with what he wanted to say, or with what he wanted to feel. He was loyal, I knew that, but loyalty didn’t change the situation.

“Loyalty doesn’t have to come at the expense of your happiness,” he finally said, his voice low but firm. “Not when it’s clear what you need.”

I didn’t answer immediately, the words too heavy to lift. Instead, I looked out the window, watching the city pass by in a blur, my thoughts spiraling into memories of Orion. I had made my peace with the idea that he wasn’t my future, but that didn’t mean I was ready for him to just disappear.

I still felt him, like an invisible weight in my chest.

When we reached the suite, Mason parked in the driveway but didn’t make a move to get out. Instead, he turned to face me, his eyes searching mine.

“Do you need some time?” he asked softly, as if sensing the turmoil brewing beneath my surface. "To think. To breathe."

I shook my head slowly. "No. I need to do something, Mason. I can’t keep running away from all of this."

Before he could reply, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, glancing at the screen. It was a message from my uncle.

‘The plan’s in motion. Don’t act until I’m back. I’ll handle the rest.’

I exhaled, clenching my phone tight in my hand.

“He’s right,” I muttered, more to myself than to Mason. “There’s nothing I can do until he gets back. But I can’t keep sitting here either.”

Mason’s expression softened, his hand resting on mine gently. “Then let’s not sit here. Let’s do something.”

I wanted to smile, to appreciate his offer, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, like the calm before a storm. I haven't told him about my father and Mr Jameson. No need to give him all my burden.

“Fine,” I said, my voice steady, as if I could fool myself into believing I wasn’t falling apart. “But I don’t want to talk about Orion, or Chloe, or any of it. Let’s just… do something normal.”

And so, we left the car, walking into the suite with a silent understanding between us. Mason made a point of keeping the conversation light, focusing on trivial things—what to order for dinner, the latest news about a business venture we had been watching. But I could tell he was being careful toward me, watching my every move as if I were a fragile glass figurine.

Later, as the evening unfolded, I found myself staring out the window of the suite, the city lights a blur of colors beneath me. It was too quiet. Too still. My mind wandered, inevitably, back to Orion. To what had happened, and what might have been.

Mason came up behind me, his presence filling the room. He didn’t speak immediately, but I felt him there, grounding me in this space, at this moment. Then he placed a hand on my shoulder. A light gesture that left me feeling uneasy.

“I’m here, Ava,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Whenever you need to talk… or not talk. Whatever you need.”

I turned, meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of something I couldn’t name—concern, maybe? Or maybe something more.

I opened my mouth to speak, to thank him, but before I could form the words, a sudden loud knock on the door made us both jump.

I froze.

Mason frowned, his expression darkening. He moved toward the door, and I heard him mutter something under his breath. When he opened it, my heart stopped.

Standing in the doorway was none other than Orion himself.

Did he follow us here?

His eyes met mine, and for a moment, everything went still. It was as if time had frozen, and all the space between us collapsed into one unbearable moment. He was standing there, right in front of me, as if he had every right to be.

Mason’s body tensed beside me, his protective instinct kicking in. “What do you want?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Orion didn’t answer immediately. His gaze was fixed on me, his jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly. It wasn’t anger that radiated from him—no, it was something else.

Desperation.

And for the briefest moment, I felt something stir in me—something dangerous. Something that threatened to undo all the progress I’d made.

But I held my ground. I didn’t step back.

“What are you doing here, Orion?” I asked, my voice steady, despite the turmoil in my chest. “Did you follow us here? Is that it?”

He took a step forward, ignoring Mason’s warning glare. “We need to talk.”

I shook my head. “No. We don’t. I think I've made that clear enough.”

But he wasn’t listening. And neither was Mason, who stepped between us, his body language protective and firm.

"You don’t get to show up here, not after everything you’ve done." Mason’s voice was steel, unyielding.

Orion’s eyes flicked back to me, his expression unreadable.

“I didn’t come for you,” he said, his words sharp. “I came for her.”

‘For me.’

The weight of his words hit me like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t just here to talk—he was here to claim. To make me face whatever unfinished business we had.

And I wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

I glanced at Mason. His jaw was clenched, his body tense, every muscle ready to defend. But I couldn’t let this go further. Not now.

“Leave, Before you make this any worse,” I said, my voice icy, dismissive. “There’s no space for you here anymore.”

Orion hesitated, his gaze lingering on me, before he slowly turned, his shoulders heavy with unspoken words.

Why did that feel too easy? And why am I disappointed that he left?

As the door clicked shut behind him, I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

Mason didn’t move, didn’t speak, for a long time. And when he did, all he said was:

“You sure about that?”

I wasn’t. But I couldn’t let him know that. Not yet. Not now.