Ava

The echoes of his proposal vibrated through the conference room, but I barely heard the gasps, the whispers, the rustle of shocked disbelief. I focused on one thing—Orion, still kneeling, his expression a mask of barely concealed rage and confusion.

It would have been easy to admire him then, the proud man forced to bow before me, but I had long learned to discard softness when it came to him.

Being soft made me foolish once. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

"Stand up, Orion," I said coolly, a touch of amusement in my voice. "You’re embarrassing yourself."

He didn’t move at first. The muscles in his jaw tensed, and I knew I had struck deep. My words had cut him like a blade, and part of me savored it. There was a time when I had been the one on my knees, begging for scraps of his mercy. Now, the roles were reversed, and the taste of power was heady.

Slowly, he rose, pocketing the ring with a measured, almost casual motion that hid the storm raging within him. His eyes were dark, angry, but I held his gaze without flinching. If he thought this charade would intimidate me, he was sorely mistaken.

The advisors shifted uncomfortably, sensing the charged atmosphere. Connor stepped closer to my side, his silent presence a reminder of the alliances I had built, the empire I now controlled.

Orion noticed, of course. His gaze flicked to Connor, and a shadow of something feral crossed his features. Jealousy? Anger? It didn’t matter. He would have to choke on it.

"I suppose that’s a no," he said, his voice low and dangerous, as if daring me to explain myself.

I tilted my head, letting a slow, mocking smile curve my lips. "You suppose correctly," I replied, savoring each word. "Did you think I’d fall for such an obvious ploy? A sudden proposal, in front of an audience? How dramatic."

He stepped closer, his presence suffocating, his fury barely restrained. "This isn’t a game, Ava."

"Isn’t it?" I shot back, my voice sharper now, cutting through the murmurs of the onlookers. "You made it one, Orion. You played your hand, and you lost. Don’t come crawling back to me with rings and promises. I know you too well."

The silence in the room was thick, every gaze locked on the two of us. I could feel the weight of their stares, a mixture of awe, fear, and morbid curiosity. Orion slowly walked towards me, his movements deliberate, like a predator preparing to strike.

His eyes never left mine, the raw intensity within them a dangerous promise. Without warning, he closed the distance between us, his hand gripping my arm with a force that sent a shock up my spine.

“Orion,” I hissed, keeping my voice low, cold, even as my pulse raced. “Let. Go.”

But he didn’t. Instead, he pulled me closer, until our faces were mere inches apart, the air between us charged and electric.

I could see the rage in his eyes, but there was something else there too—something darker, more desperate. It would have been easy to mistake it for longing, but I knew better. This was possession, a desire to dominate and control.

His breath was warm against my cheek. “You think this is over?” he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear. “You think you can humiliate me and walk away?”

I kept my expression neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Release me, Orion. Now.”

Instead of complying, he turned his head slightly, addressing the room in a voice that brooked no argument. “Everyone. Leave.”

The command hung in the air, heavy and authoritative. A few of the advisors shifted uneasily, exchanging uncertain glances. But I wasn’t about to let him have the upper hand, not here, not ever.

“Stay,” I said sharply, my tone slicing through the tension like a blade. “This meeting is far more important than whatever Orion Miller has to say.”

His grip tightened, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of something raw in his eyes—pain, maybe, or disbelief. But he masked it quickly, his lips curling into a mocking smile. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Ava.”

“So are you,” I shot back, my voice steady, even as my heart pounded. “And you’re losing.”

His jaw clenched, and I could feel the heat radiating off him. The proximity was maddening, the scent of him familiar and infuriating all at once.

For a brief second, it felt like time had rewound itself, like we were back in a different place, a different life. But I couldn’t afford nostalgia. Not with him.

“You always did love an audience,” I said, the words laced with venom. “Remember how you left me at the altar?” I whispered softly to his ears alone.

His eyes darkened, and I thought he might snap, that he’d give in to the fury simmering just beneath the surface. But instead, he leaned in even closer, his lips a breath away from mine. I could feel the tension coiling tighter, could sense every eye on us, waiting for the explosion.

But Orion only smiled, a cruel, knowing smile. “This isn’t over,” he whispered, his voice like a promise and a threat. Then he stepped back, releasing me so suddenly that I stumbled, catching myself against the table.

He turned, his movements precise and controlled, but I knew him well enough to see the storm raging beneath the surface.

Without another word, he strode out of the room, the doors closing behind him with a finality that echoed through the silence.

I straightened, smoothing my clothes as if nothing had happened, as if my heart wasn’t racing and my skin wasn’t still burning where he had touched me. “Shall we continue?” I asked, my voice calm, detached. “We have more pressing matters to attend to.”

I turned to my left and I saw Connor shifting uncomfortably, our eyes met briefly and what I saw in them made me swallow back a bitter pill.

Pity.

I am not helpless! I am no damsel.

The advisors nodded, some more reluctantly than others, and the meeting resumed. But I could feel the eyes on me, the unspoken questions, the doubt. I would have to tread carefully now.

Orion wasn’t done, and neither was I. This was far from over. And when it ended, only one of us would be left standing.

It has to be me. Ava Miller.