The next morning, I sat on the edge of the bed, the early light filtering through the blinds like muted silver. My phone sat beside me, screen dark except for the chilling message still staring back from a blocked number.
"If you care about your son, walk away from Grayson Tech. Tonight."
My stomach twisted every time I read it. The words were short, simple—and yet they carried the weight of a guillotine hanging over my neck.
My fingers trembled as I locked the screen and shoved the phone beneath the pillow like that might erase the threat. But the dread clung to me, sticky and relentless.
A soft knock echoed on the bedroom door. "You okay?" Liam's voice was low, careful.
I inhaled slowly, smoothing my hair before turning toward him. He stepped in, shirtless, the sharp lines of his torso barely softened by the steam of his coffee. His brows furrowed slightly, reading me the way he always could.
I forced a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Just tired."
He held out the coffee like a peace offering. "Board briefing's in two hours. We need to lock down the Kessler strategy."
I nodded, trying to push the fear aside. Focus. Focus on the merger. On the fight ahead. But inside, I was coming undone thread by thread.
The entire car ride to the office, the message repeated in my mind. Had they seen Eli? Were they following him? Watching Marissa? My throat tightened at the thought. I couldn't let fear paralyze me—not when Eli's safety was at stake.
By the time we entered the boardroom, I had locked every emotion behind a mask. I sat beside Liam, laptop open, eyes tracking the slides he presented. To anyone watching, I was composed. Professional. Focused.
Inside, I was screaming.
Liam's voice carried through the room as he addressed the projected synergies between Grayson Tech and Kessler Innovations. Questions fired from across the table. Strategic objections. Negotiation points. But I barely registered any of it.
Then, my phone vibrated against the glass table.
Miranda: We need to talk. Alone. Urgent.
My pulse skipped. I glanced at Liam, who was fielding a question about data integration timelines, then slipped out of the room quietly.
We met in the parking garage, where shadows stretched long across the concrete. Miranda was already waiting by a column, arms wrapped tightly around herself, looking more fragile than I'd ever seen her.
"Someone followed me this morning," she whispered as I approached.
My spine stiffened. "Who?"
"I don't know. But they left this."
She handed me a plain, unmarked envelope. I opened it slowly, my hands suddenly ice.
Inside was a single photo.
Eli.
At the park with Marissa. His smile frozen in time, mid-laugh as he chased a kite. The image was bright, almost idyllic—if not for the sinister weight behind it.
My legs nearly gave out. I staggered back, leaning against a pillar for support. "Where did this come from?"
"On my windshield," Miranda said. "Tucked under the wiper. No note. Just… this. Ava, they know. About him. About where he is."
I clenched the photo in my hand, the edges cutting into my palm. "We have to tell Liam."
Miranda shook her head, panicked. "No. If Damien finds out we know, he'll escalate. He's playing with fire, but he's calculated. We make one wrong move, and he doesn't burn. We do."
My jaw locked. "Then we need a counter move. Something louder. Something that scares him."
Her eyes darted behind me, then back. "Something powerful enough to end him."
I nodded. "I'm done reacting. It's time to go on the offensive."
---
Back at the penthouse, night had fallen. I moved through the space like a ghost, the photo now tucked into my coat pocket, its weight impossibly heavy. Liam was pouring bourbon by the fireplace when I finally came out of the bedroom.
"You're quiet," he said without turning around.
I sat down across from him and pulled out the photo, sliding it across the table.
He stared at it for a long beat. Then another. When he finally looked up, his eyes were like steel.
"He's targeting our son now?" His voice was calm. Deadly calm.
"Our son," I echoed, the words hitting harder than I expected. "This isn't just about Grayson Tech anymore. This is personal."
He took a slow sip of his drink, then set the glass down with a decisive clink. "Then let's stop playing defense."
We mapped it out together that night, side by side like generals planning an ambush.
Liam would leak pieces of Damien's past indiscretions to two trusted journalists—just enough to rattle him and draw him out. Quiet scandals that would nudge investors toward discomfort, hinting at instability and fraud. Nothing to fully expose him yet. Just enough smoke.
Meanwhile, I would pretend to accept Damien's offer. I would walk into his trap wearing a wire, provided by Brian, our head of security and one of the few people we trusted.
The goal: catch him confessing. On record. Admitting to the coercion. The sabotage. The threats.
One clean blow that would end him before he could strike again.
But before I could step into the fire, I had to do something harder.
---
Eli was curled up on the couch, wrapped in a superhero blanket, eating popcorn with Marissa as an old animated movie played in the background. I knelt beside him, smoothing his wild curls back from his forehead.
"Hey, sweetheart," I said gently.
He looked up, eyes big and trusting. "Hi, Mommy."
I smiled. "I might need to go away for a few days for work, okay? You'll stay here with Auntie Marissa. She'll make pancakes and read your favorite books."
His smile faltered. "Are you in trouble?"
I blinked back tears and kissed his forehead. "No, baby. Mommy's just being brave."
He nodded after a pause, clutching my hand. "Okay. I'll be brave too."
My heart cracked wide open.
---
Later that night, Liam found me staring out the window, arms wrapped around myself as the city shimmered beneath us. He wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder.
"What if something happens to me?" I whispered.
His hold tightened. "Nothing will."
"But if it does…" My voice wavered. "Promise me you'll take care of him. Let him keep his kindness. Don't let this war steal that from him."
He turned me to face him, eyes steady. "You'll walk back through that door, Ava. Because no one takes you down. Especially not Damien."
Then he kissed me.
It wasn't soft or sweet. It was fierce. Like he was reminding the universe that I was his. That this wasn't goodbye.
I kissed him back just as fiercely, pouring everything I couldn't say into that moment—my fear, my love, my promise.
When we finally broke apart, I looked into his eyes and saw fire.
He would burn the world for me. And I knew, with everything in me, I would do the same for him.
---
Across the city, in a glass penthouse that gleamed like a dagger in the skyline, Damien poured himself a drink.
A low chuckle escaped his lips as he watched the screen in front of him—live footage from the park, from the garage, from the gala.
Every move.
Every word.
He thought he was winning.
But he didn't know what was coming.
Because I was done being hunted.
And tomorrow night, I would walk straight into the lion's den—with fire in my veins and a plan to end the monster who thought he could break me.