Orion’s POV

Ava looked at me with wide-eyes, every shred of calm she had been clinging to shattered. I wanted to explain—wanted to tell her everything—but my throat locked. My answer was enough to strip us bare.

“You sent me your location, remember?”

She froze. Her eyes narrowed as confusion danced across her features. Why was she surprised? Why was she confused?

The memory of last night burned vividly in my mind—haunting, relentless.

It started that morning. I had barely slept. Chloe had been waiting for me, sprawled on the chaise lounge in her silk robe, a calculated look in her eyes. “Stay with me,” she whispered, her voice smooth as honey, her hands grazing my wrist.

I pulled back sharply, the revulsion bubbling to the surface. “Not today, Chloe.”

“But you promised,” she reminded me, standing and crossing the space between us. “You said you’d choose me over and over again.”

I flinched at her words, at how empty they sounded. I owed her, didn’t I? She had saved me once, and had been by my side through the mess. This was what we wanted… wasn’t it?

But something snapped inside me. “Not like this,” I muttered, yanking free from her grip. “Not anymore.”

I stormed down the hallway, heading to the master bedroom—my bedroom. Our bedroom. The room I share with Ava.

The moment I stepped inside, the regret hit me like a tidal wave. The walls were thick with her absence, and the air felt suffocating. My chest tightened as I paced the room relentlessly, my hands running through my hair. I couldn’t stop moving. I couldn’t stop thinking.

The confrontation I had with her earlier in the room came rolling in and the image of me gripping her neck slammed in. Guilt and regret filled every part of my body, even as I watched her now.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Chloe was right—I had made my choice. I chose her. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. Because the moment they took Ava—when I watched her disappear into the back of that car—it felt like someone had reached into my chest and yanked out my heart.

I’d told myself I had done the right thing. That saving Chloe was my obligation. I owed her. They wouldn’t hurt Ava—they wouldn’t dare. She’s not who they want. She was untouchable.

Or so I thought.

But then I saw her.

Crumpled on the cold, filthy floor of that warehouse. Broken. Scared. So small.

It was like something inside me shifted. It wasn’t just regret—it was fury. It was anguish.

Somehow, I must have fallen asleep that morning, curled up on the couch in the corner of our room. I remember jerking awake when my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up in the darkness. My heart stilled.

Ava.

She had sent me her live location.

The message might as well have been a lifeline. I didn’t stop to think. I didn’t stop to call the police or form a plan. I just moved. My mind blank, my chest tight, and the only thought screaming in my head was to save her.

I sped out of the mansion like my life depended on it—because, in that moment, it did.

But I should have known.

When I found her—when I reached out to touch her and she recoiled—it felt like someone had plunged a dagger into my chest. She looked at me with something I couldn’t name. Fear? Disgust?

And then Mason.

She had picked Mason to ride with her in the ambulance while I stood there like a fool. And as I watched them drive away, something clicked.

She hadn’t meant to send it to me.

She had wanted to send her location to him. Mason.

I shook the thought off and concentrated on the current scene in the hospital room as I stared into Ava’s eyes. My fists clenched as I stared at her bruises, my emotions tangled between rage, regret, and a desperation I couldn’t contain.

“Ava,” I said softly, stepping closer. Maybe I am wrong. Maybe she did mean to send it to me but didn’t want to admit it. “Why are you acting surprised? You sent me your location.”

She shook her head, her voice low and sharp. “I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” I shot back, my tone rising. “I was there because I received your live location!”

Ava looked at me then—really looked at me—as though trying to piece together a puzzle she didn’t know existed. “I didn’t send you anything, Orion,” she repeated. “I… I sent it to Mason.”

My heart stopped.

The silence between us was so thick it felt like it might strangle me.

She didn’t know when she sent it to me?

I didn’t even notice anything else until Mason appeared, standing protectively in front of Ava’s bed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned my face.

“Ava, are you okay?” he asked, his tone soft and soothing.

Something snapped inside me. I lunged forward before I could stop myself, my fist connecting squarely with Mason’s jaw. He stumbled back with a grunt, and Ava shrieked, her voice slicing through the chaos.

“Orion! Stop!”

Mason recovered quickly, shoving me back with equal force. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

I barely heard him. The jealousy—the rage—clouded everything. Why does he get to stand there? Why does she look at him like that?

“Leave him alone!” Ava shouted, her voice trembling with fury. She turned to Mason, who was panting, his fists still raised. “Mason, go. Wait outside. Everyone, get out!

“Ava, I’m not—”

“I said go!” she snapped at him. “Orion!” My mother called, staring at me like I was a stranger, her disappointment evident in her expression but I didn’t care. “You’re acting like a fool, and I expect an explanation. I’ll be waiting outside,” she finished and stormed off. Mason hesitated before nodding stiffly at Ava and storming out with Connor, leaving the two of us alone.

I stood there, breathing heavily, staring at her. Ava’s hands were balled into fists, her knuckles white against her pale skin. She glared at me with so much hurt and anger it almost sent me to my knees.

“What is wrong with you?” she seethed, her voice shaking. “You’re out of control.”

I took a step forward. “You think I don’t know how you look at him? You think I don’t see it?” I growled, stepping forward, the sound raw and possessive.

“You’re mine, Ava. Even in death. I won’t let anyone else touch you—not now, not ever.”

She flinched, her expression flickering with anger and something deeper—something that felt like fear. I hated it. I hated myself for it.

“Listen to yourself,” she spat. “Do you even hear how insane you sound? You’re talking about Ava Miller, Orion. You don’t own me!”

“I will protect you going forward. You don’t need him,” I growled through clenched teeth, my chest heaving. “Even if you hate me. I’ll protect you until my last breath.”

Ava stared at me, silent for a moment, as though she were looking through me—seeing someone I didn’t want to admit I had become.

Then, she exhaled, the weight of her next words settling like a stone in my gut.

“I trust Mason,” she spat. “Unlike you, he didn’t leave me to die.”

Her words hit their mark, slicing through me like a blade. I swallowed thickly, my voice low. “I made a mistake.”

“Mistake?” she laughed bitterly. “You chose her, Orion. You chose Chloe.”

I stepped closer, my voice rough and unrelenting. “I chose wrong and I see that now. But you’re still mine, Ava. Till death do us part.”

“I want out.”

The room went silent. The air felt thin.

“What?” I whispered, my voice cracking.

“I’m done, Orion.” Her voice was calm, quiet—dangerously steady.

“I want a divorce. I’m leaving the company. The will. Everything.”

“No,” I growled instinctively, the word ripping through me like a primal force. “You’re not leaving.”

Her gaze didn’t waver. “Yes, I am.”

“Over my dead body, Ava.” Her chin lifted, her expression resolute. “Then, pick a date to die.”

I stared at her, the weight of her words crashing into me like a storm.