POV: Ava Chen
The gates clicked shut behind me.
School was over, and the spring sun was warm on my skin. I was humming a song under my breath, already texting Austin to pick me up, when I saw her.
Leaning against the black Mercedes at the corner of the road, arms crossed, sunglasses on, heels stabbing the concrete like the ground itself had offended her.
I didn't know her.
Not at first.
She looked like the kind of woman who lived in perfume ads. Perfect hair, perfect lips, eyes that gleamed even behind expensive lenses. She stood like she owned the block. Like she didn't care if she did or not—because she could.
I would've walked right past her.
If she hadn't said my name.
"Ava."
My steps slowed. I looked up.
She smiled.
Something inside me jolted. Something primal, something instinctive. I didn't know this woman. And yet—
I knew her.
"Sorry?" I said cautiously.
She took off her glasses.
"I'm Vivienne," she said smoothly. "Your mother."
My heart stopped.
My breath stilled.
The noise around me — the students, the cars, the birds — vanished into a low, heavy silence.
"No," I said.
"Yes." She tilted her head. "You were barely a month old the last time I held you. You cried so much that night. You wouldn't stop. I remember thinking, God, she's going to be a handful."
I gripped my bag tighter. "You left."
She laughed — light, sharp. "Well, I had to, didn't I? Your father made it impossible to stay."
"You left," I repeated, louder now. "You left me. You cheated. You walked out on a baby."
Vivienne sighed and looked away, like she was being accused of something exhausting. "I thought he would tell you his version. He always did love to be the hero. But you don't know the full story, Ava. You don't know Austin. Not really."
That made me laugh. A breathy, disbelieving sound. "I know him better than anyone."
She stepped closer. "You think you do. You see the version he lets you see. But I knew him first. I knew the man before the silk suits and bodyguards. Before he learned to smile with teeth and lie without blinking. He was... cruel. Cold. Beautiful, but dangerous."
I didn't move. My fingers were shaking.
She kept going, her voice getting softer, deadlier. "You think he's soft with you because he loves you? It's guilt, Ava. Guilt for choosing you. For loving you more than he ever loved me. You're his pet project. His redemption arc. You think you're special to him?"
"I am," I whispered.
"You're a bandage," she snapped. "You're a distraction. He wraps you around his wounds and pretends he isn't bleeding underneath. That's all you are."
Tears pricked my eyes, but I blinked them back.
"You have no idea how lonely he really is," she continued. "How he still wakes up with nightmares. You think your hugs fix him? That your childish games and glittery stickers on his laptop make him better? You don't know what he's done for power. What he's ruined."
My phone was in my hand, slippery with sweat. I didn't even remember pulling it out.
"You're lying," I whispered again.
Vivienne smiled. "I watched the two of you. At the beach. At the museum. The park. Everywhere. You feed him fruit like it's romantic. You cling to him like a lost puppy. Do you know how pathetic you looked?"
"I love him," I said. "He's my dad."
"And he was my husband," she said coldly. "Until you were born."
I couldn't breathe.
Her voice dropped even lower, almost gentle now. "You were always too much. You cried too loud. Hugged too tight. You're too cheerful, too soft, too bright. You think it's cute, the way you play with the maids and bribe the gardeners to do your homework? You think the guards laugh with you because they like you?"
"They do like me."
She chuckled. "No. They pity you."
I was shaking.
Vivienne reached for me.
And then—
A voice cut through the air like a bullet.
"Step away from my daughter."
We both turned.
Austin.
He was standing next to the black SUV parked across the street, two of his men flanking him. Black suit. No tie. Hair a little messy. His sunglasses reflected the sun like twin fires. But his voice...
His voice could've shattered stone.
Vivienne paled just a fraction. Just enough for me to notice.
"Oh," she said lightly. "Speak of the devil."
I stood frozen. Then, without thinking, I ran.
Straight to Austin.
He caught me in his arms, tugging me against him so fast I almost stumbled.
"She's lying," I whispered into his coat. "She said awful things. She said I don't know you."
His arms tightened. "You know me better than anyone ever has."
"She said I was a bandage. A distraction. That I ruined everything."
"She doesn't get to say your name, let alone define your worth."
Vivienne was still standing there, lips parted in amusement.
"I'll give you ten seconds," Austin said without looking at her, his voice low and steady, "to disappear before I forget how much Ava hates blood on my hands."
Vivienne's smirk cracked.
She stepped back, heels clicking against the pavement.
"I'll be seeing you, baby girl," she called out, her voice like poison wrapped in sugar.
I buried my face in his coat.
Austin didn't speak again.
He just opened the door, helped me in, and told the driver to go.
And all the while, his hand never left mine.