Orion’s POV

The message on Ava’s phone was short but chilling, each word sharp like a dagger to my chest:

“You thought you could escape me? You’ll learn soon enough. Watch your back, Mrs Miller. Accidents happen when you least expect them.”

The number was unknown, no name attached, just a string of digits that looked ordinary but carried a sinister weight. My grip on the phone tightened, heart pounding as I re-read the message, each line feeding the growing rage inside me.

Who the hell dared to threaten her?

I quickly copied the number onto my own phone and deleted the message from Ava’s before placing it back gently where it had been. She stirred slightly, and I froze, my breath caught in my throat. After a moment, she settled, still deep in sleep.

A wave of guilt crashed over me, almost drowning the fury simmering beneath my skin. Is this what she’s been dealing with? How long has this been happening while I was too blind to see? I clenched my jaw tightly, cursing myself. I had been so consumed by my own mistakes, my own guilt, that I hadn’t noticed the danger looming over my wife.

God help whoever was behind this, because I wouldn’t spare them. They would pay—dearly.

Wrapping my arm protectively around her waist, I pulled her closer as if shielding her from whatever shadows lurked beyond that message. She didn’t stir, her soft breathing steady against my chest, but my mind was in overdrive.

I must have drifted off at some point because I woke up with a start, sunlight pouring in through the window. Blinking rapidly, I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the bright rays. The bed was empty.

“Ava?” I called, voice hoarse from sleep. No answer. Panic surged through me, and I sat up quickly. “Ava!”

Her head popped out from the bathroom, hair damp and sticking to her face. She looked at me with a mix of amusement and annoyance. “What?” she asked, raising a brow. “Can’t I have a bath in peace?”

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, running a hand through my disheveled hair. “You scared the hell out of me,” I muttered.

She rolled her eyes, stepping back into the bathroom. “I want to go see Holly. Get ready if you’re coming.”

I hesitated, mind racing back to the message. If I went with her, I couldn’t start digging into this threat immediately. I needed answers before Ava found out.

When she emerged a few minutes later, fully dressed in fitted jeans and a simple blouse, she grabbed her bag and looked at me expectantly. “Well? Are you coming? Should I wait downstairs?”

I rubbed my temple, feigning discomfort. “I’ve got a splitting headache. I think I’ll stay in bed for a bit and catch up later.”

She gave me a skeptical look. “Exactly why you should come with me. The hospital can give you something for it.”

“You know I don’t like medicine,” I said with a half-smile. “I’ll be fine. I promise I’ll meet you there once I feel better.”

She didn’t look convinced, but after a moment’s hesitation, she sighed. “Fine. Don’t take too long.” With one last suspicious glance, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

The moment I heard the click of the lock, I sprang into action. Grabbing my phone, I quickly dialed the number from the message. It did not even ring once, just straight up unavailable. I tried again—same result.

Frustrated, I called my assistant, Colin. He picked up on the second ring.

“Mr. Miller?”

“Colin, I need a favor—immediately.” My tone left no room for argument. “I’m sending you a number. I want you to trace the location and identity of the owner. Use every resource we have. This is top priority.”

Colin didn’t ask questions. “Understood. I’ll get on it right away.”

I hung up, pacing the room as tension coiled in my muscles. The unknown number, the threat, Ava’s guarded behavior—all of it painted a disturbing picture. Someone was after her, and she hadn’t told me.

Why? Out of fear? Distrust?

Either way, I wasn’t going to sit back and let this continue. Whoever sent that message had made a fatal mistake—threatening the woman I love. They didn’t know it yet, but they had just started a war. And I intended to win.

The air in the room was thick with tension as I paced relentlessly after freshening up. My mind was already playing out every possible scenario. Who was this person, and why were they targeting Ava?

Could it be Chloe?

Questions swirled in my head, each one fueling the fire in my chest. Ava had been through so much already, and I’d be damned if I let this shadow from her past—or present—haunt her any longer.

Colin called back faster than I expected. “Mr. Miller,” he began, his voice sharp and professional. “The number is registered to a burner phone, which makes it nearly impossible to trace the owner. However, I did manage to detect the most recent pings from the device. It’s been used in the city outskirts, near the industrial district.”

Did the person follow us here? Or were they already waiting before we got here?

“Send me the coordinates,” I said, already reaching for my jacket.

“Sir, that area is dangerous—”

“Just send them, Colin,” I snapped. My patience was wearing thin, and the last thing I needed was a lecture. “And keep digging. Find out everything you can.”

The phone buzzed a second later with the coordinates. I rushed out of the room, my steps quick and purposeful. Ava might not have told me what was going on, but I’d get to the bottom of it—whether she liked it or not.

---

The industrial district was as grim as I expected—abandoned warehouses, graffiti-stained walls, and a quiet that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I told the driver to stop blocks away, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Slipping out of the car, I made my way down the alley, my senses on high alert.

The coordinates led me to an old, decrepit warehouse with shattered windows and rusted metal doors. It looked like the kind of place where nightmares were born. I clenched my fists, stepping cautiously inside.

The air was cold and damp, carrying the faint stench of mildew and decay. My footsteps echoed off the concrete floor as I scanned the space, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. Nothing. Just rows of empty crates and broken machinery.

But then I heard it—a faint sound, like the scuff of a shoe against the floor. My body went rigid, adrenaline surging through me. I turned toward the noise, my eyes narrowing. “Who’s there?” I demanded, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

No response.

I took another step forward, my muscles coiled and ready. Suddenly, a figure darted out from behind a stack of crates. I moved on instinct, grabbing the person by the arm and slamming them against the wall. A muffled grunt escaped their lips, and I realized it was a man, late-thirties, with a wiry frame and terrified eyes.

“Who sent you?” I growled, my grip tightening.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he stammered, his voice shaking.

“Wrong answer.” I pressed harder, my patience hanging by a thread. “You sent a message to Mrs Miller. Why?”

Recognition flashed in his eyes, and that was all I needed to confirm my suspicion. “I was just following orders!” he blurted out, panic seeping into his voice. “I swear, I don’t even know her. They just paid me to send the text.”

“Who?” I demanded. “Who paid you?”