The next day dawned gray and restless, as if the sky itself was holding its breath. I stood on the balcony with a cup of tea, watching the traffic crawl through Manhattan's veins below. Liam had left early to meet with Brian and cybersecurity—whatever Claire and Lucien were planning, we had to stay ahead of it.
Eli was safe, at least. Liam had moved him and Marissa to a secure compound in Connecticut until things cooled down. My heart ached with every call, every goodnight kiss over video, but I knew this was the only way.
Still, a mother's guilt never really sleeps.
I turned at the sound of the front door opening. Liam entered, tension rippling through his frame.
"We have a problem," he said without preamble.
I followed him into the living room. "What kind?"
He tossed a file onto the coffee table. "Claire just filed a lawsuit against me. She's claiming Eli is her biological son. That we falsified adoption records."
My blood went cold. "That's insane."
"She has forged documents," Liam said. "A birth certificate listing her as the mother. Photos of her holding a baby that looks eerily like Eli. She's playing the long game, Ava."
"But why?"
He looked at me, eyes dark. "Because if she proves you're guilty of fraud, she can destabilize the company's public trust. Stockholders panic. Shares plummet. And she and Lucien buy the dip with offshore money."
"She's using our son as a weapon."
"No," he said, jaw clenched. "She's already declared war."
***
We met with our attorneys that afternoon. Liam's legal team was elite, but even they looked rattled.
"She's covered her tracks well," one of them said. "And the media's already caught wind of it. There's a blog post circulating—'Tech CEO's Secret Love Child Scandal.' It's going viral."
I buried my face in my hands. "This is my fault. I should've stopped her back then."
Liam touched my knee. "No, Ava. This is on her. But we're going to take her down the right way."
"How?"
"We set the trap. We use her ego against her."
***
That night, I wore red.
Not just any red. The same slinky dress I wore the night Liam and I met.
It clung to my hips, curved around my breasts like a whisper, and made me feel like the woman I was that night—fearless, hungry, alive.
We walked into the gala like royalty. The Grayson Tech Foundation was hosting a high-profile charity event at the Met, and half of New York's elite would be there—including, we hoped, Claire.
The room was gold and champagne and soft laughter. My skin tingled with tension. Liam's fingers never left my lower back, grounding me.
And then I saw her.
Claire.
Draped in a deep green gown that made her look like money and poison. Her hair was darker now, cut short and sharp. Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on me. A smile bloomed—too wide, too knowing.
She approached slowly, glass of wine in hand. "Ava," she purred.
"Claire," I said with forced calm. "I didn't realize you were still on the guest list after faking a child's birth certificate."
Her laugh was honey over broken glass. "You know how I love a dramatic entrance."
Liam stepped forward. "You've made your move. What do you want?"
She sipped her wine, never breaking eye contact. "Leverage. Control. And eventually, ownership. I told Ava once—I don't settle for scraps."
"You'll never touch my company," Liam growled.
She tilted her head. "It's not your company I want to touch."
My spine stiffened. I stepped closer, voice low and dangerous. "You'll never get near my son."
Claire's smile cracked. "We'll see."
She turned and vanished into the crowd.
I looked up at Liam. "Did Brian get the recording?"
He nodded. "Every word. We've got her threatening to manipulate paternity for profit. It won't hold in civil court, but it gives us leverage with the press."
Still, it didn't feel like a win.
Because as we danced under the chandeliers, I could feel Claire watching. Always watching.
***
Back at the penthouse, I collapsed onto the bed, my body aching, my mind spinning.
Liam walked in, loosened his tie, and stood by the window, staring into the night.
"You think she'll stop?" I asked.
He turned, his expression unreadable. "No. Not until we break her."
I stood and moved toward him. "Then let's break her."
His eyes met mine. Fire met flame.
We crashed together, mouths devouring, hands greedy. He lifted me against the window, my thighs wrapping around him.
Glass cool against my back, his heat burned into me. He slid inside me, slow, deep, claiming. We moved with rhythm and rage and desperate devotion.
We weren't just making love.
We were surviving.
Afterward, we lay tangled in silk sheets, breathless.
Liam pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "We'll make it through this."
I closed my eyes. "We have to."
But across the city, Claire dialed a secure line.
"She's predictable," she said. "And now, so is he."
Lucien's voice crackled back. "Then it's time. Activate Phase Two."