Ava sat alone in the vast bedroom, her back sinking into the plush chair as silence stretched around her. Dinner had been served, or so the maid had announced when she knocked earlier to summon her.

She’d been left to herself—abandoned after that intense confrontation with Orion, which had nearly ended with him under her dress again. This time, however, she’d resisted. She wouldn’t let herself fall into his trap.

When Ava asked where the food was, the maid had answered nervously: “Mr. Orion asked to have the plates prepared downstairs... with the others.”

The others? Ava’s brow had furrowed in confusion. “Which others?” she’d demanded, her tone sharper than she intended.

“Mr. Orion’s mother and Miss Chloe,” the maid had replied timidly.

Ava had sighed at the inevitable chaos those words carried. “How long is Mrs. Miller staying?”

The maid’s expression had mirrored her confusion. Ava clarified, her voice dry. “The older Mrs. Miller.”

“Oh,” the maid said, visibly relieved. “I don’t know how long, ma’am. But she brought bags, so... probably a while.”

The thought was unbearable. Ava exhaled sharply, her patience thinning. “Three days,” she muttered under her breath. Highest. After that, she’d have the police drag the woman out if necessary. This was her house more than it is Orion's, whether Pricilla liked it or not.

She’d sent the maid to bring her something light to snack on. No way was she going to sit at a table with Orion, his mistress Chloe, and his overbearing mother. The thought of their laughter, their smug smiles—it turned her stomach.

“I would literally choke on my food if I’m anywhere close to those bunch of devourers!” She had exclaimed to herself.

When Maria returned, placing a tray of soft pastries and juice on the table, Ava’s suspicions kicked in. The memory of Holly’s poisoning struck like a sharp note, her distrust for Orion and his lackeys kicking in stronger. Her eyes narrowed on the glass. “Maria,” she called quietly. “Who else was in the kitchen when you fixed this?”

“No one, Ms. Ava,” the maid replied, startled. “Mr. Orion banned anyone else from entering this wing.”

Satisfied but still guarded, Ava dismissed her, locked the door behind her, and sat back. As she picked at the snacks, her phone buzzed against the silence.

A notification. ‘Good time to call?’

Mason. Ava blinked, realization dawning. In the whirlwind of Orion’s drama, she’d nearly forgotten him. Without hesitation, she dialed his number.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” she began quickly as Mason picked up. “The office... the scene... it was out of my control. He is simply out of his mind.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Mason said softly. “Are you okay? You seemed overwhelmed.”

Ava sighed, biting her lip. “I’ll survive. But... Mason, should we go ahead with the divorce papers?”

There was a beat of silence before Mason asked carefully, “Do you want to go ahead with them?”

Ava hesitated, her thoughts tangling. “No,” she admitted after a moment. “Not right now. Orion... he made me sign a contradicting document. It’s complicated.”

“Complicated or not, Ava, I know a good lawyer. Whatever this is, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

The sincerity in his voice steadied her for a moment. “Okay,” she said softly. “We’ll talk about it soon.”

Mason’s tone shifted. “How about tonight? Want to grab some drinks? Clear your mind?”

Ava glanced at the clock. It was late. “I don’t know...” But even as she spoke, her restlessness urged her otherwise. Her desire to unwind and get lost in whatever escape presented itself was stronger.

“Hold on a second,” she murmured, rising. She cracked the bedroom door open and crept to the top of the staircase. From below, laughter floated up—Orion’s rich, careless laugh, followed by Chloe’s sickly sweet giggle and his mother’s prim chuckles.

Ava’s chest tightened and she thought to herself that he doesn't even care that she’s not there. Whatever they were discussing had clearly united them—three perfect smiles, a picture of a family she didn’t belong to. Isn’t he even slightly worried about her?

Quietly retreating, Ava returned to the room. “I’ll meet you at—” she named a trendy club downtown, one Connor had taken her to before. They hung up, and she dialed Joe, her personal driver.

“Bring the car around to the back fence,” she instructed. “I’m not using the front door.”

Avoiding Orion and his mother’s drama was worth the added secrecy. Ava dressed quickly, pulling on a sleek, black slip dress that fell just above her knees. It hugged her curves subtly, the delicate fabric shimmering faintly against her skin.

The plunging neckline left enough to the imagination, but her reflection in the mirror told her it was enough to turn heads. She brushed a hand through her hair, letting the waves fall loose, and applied a soft red lipstick.

She stole one last glance at her reflection in the mirror and steadied her breath. “Perfect,” she muttered and slipped on a heel to compliment the dress.

On her way out, she called for Maria, instructing her to open the back door of the east wing and not to alert Orion about her absence. Maria did as told, and Ava slipped out into the cool night, where Joe was already waiting with the car.

As they pulled away, Ava couldn’t resist glancing back. Through the grand dining room window, she caught a glimpse of the perfect trio—Orion, Chloe, and his mother—lit by golden chandeliers, their laughter still echoing in her ears.

Her chest ached with something she hadn’t let herself feel in years. She missed that. A warm table, familiar smiles. Her mother’s joy as they shared dinner. That fleeting memory made the house behind her feel colder than ever.

“Let’s go,” she said softly to Joe as he turned onto the open road.

The thoughts made her chest tighten in pain. She wanted some alcohol to burn her ache away. She craved drowning her pain from missing the good old days with her mother and sister.

Maybe getting out of the house—away from Orion’s twisted games and his suffocating obsession—was exactly what she needed.

And it turned out to be what she absolutely needed.