AVAThe sun filtered through the trees, casting pale golden light onto the ground where Liam and I had huddled for warmth. I blinked groggily, my body stiff from sleeping on the forest floor, but the moment I opened my eyes, the reality of where we were hit me like a punch to the gut. We had spent the night outside, hidden among the trees after barely escaping death. The memory of the fire, the smoke, the shadows by the car—it all came rushing back in a sickening wave.I turned my head, finding Liam still beside me, his breathing shallow but steady. The bandage I’d made for his head using a piece of my clothing was soaked with dried blood, his face pale and drawn. He looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that made my heart ache. Yet, even like this, he still tried to be the strong one.“Liam,” I whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. “Wake up.”He groaned softly, his eyelids fluttering open, and for a moment, he looked confused—like he didn’t remember what had happened. Then, slowly, t
AVA The air was thick with tension as Liam and I moved cautiously down the road. Every step felt heavier than the last, as if the weight of the past few hours was dragging us deeper into fear. The forest surrounding us was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that made my skin crawl. But after everything we'd been through, we were finally out of those woods. We just needed to make it a little farther. "We're almost there," Liam said, his voice strained from the pain. I could see the exhaustion in his face, the way his body trembled slightly with every step. "I know," I whispered, squeezing his hand as if my grip could hold us together, keep us safe. "Just a little more." The road stretched ahead of us, winding like a snake into the unknown. I glanced over my shoulder, the paranoia refusing to let go. It had been quiet for too long. Too easy. Suddenly, I saw them. Shadows moving on the edges of the forest, silent and deliberate. My heart lurched into my throat, my pulse racing in my e
AVA Bruised and shaken, we entered the house in silence. Liam’s steps were slow and uneven, his hand gingerly pressed against the bandage over his forehead. I felt the weight of everything we had gone through dragging on my shoulders, but I couldn’t show weakness now. Not when we were about to face the people who had contributed to our misery.I can’t believe we actually made it out of that hell alive. Oh God bless the man whom agreed to drive us all the way back home. We were completely stranded but he took our plight into consideration especially when he heard how we were almost killed on repeated occasions. As we reached the living room, Clara and Davies were seated, both of them rising to their feet in surprise when they saw us. Clara’s hand flew to her mouth. “What happened to you two?” she gasped, her eyes wide as they darted from Liam’s injury to my disheveled appearance. “Liam, your head… Ava, what did you do to him?” I blinked in disbelief at the accusation. Of cours
Isabella stood at the front door, her hands busy with a laundry basket, when the doorbell rang. She expected it to be the gardener, perhaps needing help with something. Instead, when she opened the door, a strange woman stood before her, holding a small boy by the hand. Her brows furrowed in confusion, wondering what a a woman and a young boy were doing standing outside their house. “Who are you?” Isabella asked, her voice calm but guarded. “Are you really asking that? So Richard didn’t inform you about my arrival?” The lady—Cynthia asked, a disparaging smile seated on her lips. “Your arrival? How do you know my husband? Did you perhaps miss your way?” Isabella asked once more as she became more confused than ever. She gazed at the woman’s face intently, trying to decipher if she could recognize her as one of Richard’s extended family members but nothing rang a bell in her head. The woman smiled, almost triumphantly. “I’m Cynthia,” she said confidently. “I’m here to see R
Days Later Amelia was sitting in her room, staring blankly at the novel she had been trying to read for the past hour. The words blurred together as her mind wandered back to the tension that had filled the house since Cynthia and Jacob had moved in. Richard barely spoke to her or her mother anymore. All his attention was now on Cynthia and the boy he’d claimed as his son. Amelia could feel her anger simmering just beneath the surface. Cynthia’s constant belittling comments, her thinly veiled insults about how Amelia was “too pampered” or “had it too easy.” Richard, of course, said nothing, seemingly oblivious to the tension in the house. His attention was wholly devoted to Cynthia and Jacob, as if Amelia and her mother didn’t even exist. The shift was subtle at first, but it became undeniable when Cynthia began asking Amelia to do menial tasks. It started innocently—“Amelia, can you help Jacob with his homework?” or “Amelia, do you mind setting the table?”—but it quickly es
AVA It had been days since we returned from that cursed vacation. The villa was supposed to be a retreat, a place to unwind and reconnect, but it had nearly been our end. I could still feel the icy water swallowing me, the terror of sinking deeper, my lungs screaming for air. Every night, I jolted awake, heart pounding, the drowning feeling pulling me back into that nightmare. And every night, Liam was there—his arms strong around me, his voice a soothing lull, whispering, “I’ve got you. You’re safe. We’re safe.” I didn’t want to think about it anymore—about how Uncle John’s twisted plan had almost killed us. We were back, alive, and I needed to focus on that. "Liam?" I called, standing by the window, watching the sun rise slowly over the city skyline. The golden light felt like a promise of something better, something more. "What do you think about going out today? Just… us." He looked up from the bed where he had been buried in. His brow furrowed for a second, then softened
AVA The storm outside was relentless, rain hammering against the windows like a never-ending rhythm of tension. I slipped out of bed carefully, not wanting to wake Liam. His steady breathing told me he was still asleep, or at least pretending to be. I didn’t want to think too much about that. Padding downstairs, I made my way to the kitchen, craving something to calm my nerves—a glass of water, anything to break the silence that clung to me like damp air. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, the dim light from the kitchen caught my attention. I wasn’t alone. My heart gave a slight jolt. Davies was there, leaning against the counter, a glass of something strong in his hand. “Couldn’t sleep either, huh?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, like the man himself. His eyes, however, held that familiar glint—the one that always made me uneasy. The one that felt like he saw right through me and enjoyed what he saw. “No,” I replied, my voice tight. “Just came down for some water.” I c
DAYS LATER Cynthia stood in the living room, her arms crossed defiantly. Jacob, her young son, played quietly on the floor, oblivious to the tension that filled the air. Richard paced back and forth, frustration evident in his furrowed brow. “Jacob can’t be around Amelia anymore,” Cynthia’s voice pierced through the stillness of the living room, sharp and accusatory. She had stumbled upon Amelia being hostile towards Jacob and she intended to use it to her ultimate advantage. “I don’t want my son around anyone who might hurt him,” Cynthia continued. “Amelia is a liability.” “Cynthia, you can’t just come in here and make wild accusations,” Richard said, trying to maintain his composure. Cynthia shot him an incredulous look. “You think I’m making this up? Amelia has been openly hostile toward Jacob! I won’t let him be around someone who might harm him.” “I never threatened Jacob!” Amelia interjected upon entering the living room with fire in her eyes. “This is ridiculous.” Cynthi
Months later AVA The morning sun poured through the windows, bathing the room in a warm golden light. I stood in front of the mirror, my hands gently resting on my swollen belly, feeling the soft kicks of our baby. I could hardly believe this day had finally come—our wedding day. Again. I smiled to myself, watching my reflection as my fingers brushed over the lace of my gown. It was simple, elegant, and perfect for the small, intimate ceremony Liam and I had decided on. A fresh start. A new beginning for our family. There was a knock on the door, and Clara walked in, her face lighting up when she saw me. “Ava, you look beautiful,” she said, her voice soft but filled with sincerity. I turned to her, smiling. “Thank you, Clara. I’m glad you’re here.” She walked over, her expression a little more serious now. “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. After everything… you and Liam deserve this happiness. You deserve a fresh start.” Her words meant more to me than she k
LIAM The silence in the hospital room was deafening. I sat beside Ava, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest, my fingers trembling as I reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. She looked so fragile, so pale. I had never felt so helpless in my life. The day had dragged on endlessly, every hour a brutal reminder of how close I had come to losing her. The doctors had said she was stable, but she hadn’t woken up. I had tried talking to her, whispering reassurances that everything was going to be okay, but there was no response. Just the maddening, continuous hum of the machines monitoring her vitals. “Ava… please, wake up,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from hours of silence. “I need you. We need you.” The door to the room opened, and a nurse stepped in quietly, checking the monitors before giving me a small nod. “She’s doing well, Mr. Liam. It’s just a matter of time now.” Time. It felt like an eternity had already passed. I watched the nurse leave,
LIAM I held Ava tightly in his arms, feeling her tremble against me. Her breathing was shallow, and her skin, pale and cold. Despite everything, she had held on. We both had. As I brushed the dirt-streaked hair from her face, I whispered, “You’re safe now, Ava. It’s over.” Her lips parted as if she was trying to speak, but no words came out. Her fingers clutched weakly at my shirt, trying to ground herself. “I’m here,” I whispered, holding her as close as I could without hurting her. “I’ve got you.” She blinked up at me, her gaze unfocused before she glanced around, her eyes landing on Clara and Davies, who stood near the door, watching us with somber expressions. She looked back up at me, her brows knitting together. Her hand moved to her stomach, resting there for a moment before her eyes widened. “Liam…” “What is it?” I asked, my heart skipping a beat. Her grip on me tightened, and fear began to seep into her gaze. “I—Liam, something’s wrong.” Before I could even pro
LIAM The cold concrete floor felt like it was digging into my bones, and every breath I took was shallow and labored. My body ached, the weight of exhaustion and hunger gnawing at me with every passing minute. Ava sat beside me, her face pale, streaked with dirt, and her once-vibrant eyes dull with fear and fatigue. We had been here for what felt like an eternity, tied up, helpless, malnourished, and broken. I glanced over at her, my heart wrenching as she tried to keep herself together. Every now and then, she would give me a small, strained smile—something to reassure me, as if to say we were going to get out of this. But even her resolve was weakening. I could see it in the way her hands trembled, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. The room reeked of sweat and desperation, the oppressive silence hanging over us like a death sentence. Then the door creaked open, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the warehouse. My pulse quickened as I turned to see John and El
Clara had been restless, unable to sleep, and decided to head downstairs for a glass of water. As she descended the staircase, her footfalls silent against the thick carpet, she heard voices coming from John’s study. At first, she thought nothing of it. It was not unlikely for him to make calls this late. John often stayed up late for business calls, but as she reached the bottom of the stairs, something in the tone of his voice made her pause. She ducked into the shadows, peeking around the corner, just in time to hear him say something that froze the blood in her veins. “Once they are dead, the property and the company will be ours. There won’t be anyone left to challenge us. We’ve endured far too much and we’ve played those meaningless games with those two pests! Now it’s time to get rid of them forever” Clara’s breath hitched in her throat, her hand trembling as she clutched the banister. She didn’t dare move, didn’t dare breathe. John’s voice was calm, almost bored, as th
AVA I woke up with a pounding headache, my limbs heavy and sore. My eyes fluttered open, the room around me coming into hazy focus—a cold, dimly lit space with concrete walls and the faint hum of distant machinery. As I shifted, I realized I couldn’t move my arms. Panic set in, and my breath quickened. My wrists were bound tightly behind me. A groan escaped my lips as I tugged at the restraints, but they wouldn’t budge. It was then that I noticed Liam, slumped beside me, his head hanging low. “Liam,” I whispered, my voice shaky. “Liam, wake up.” He stirred slightly, groaning before his eyes slowly blinked open. “Ava…?” His voice was rough, groggy. “What… where are we?” “We’re tied up,” I said, my voice trembling as I fought back the fear rising in my chest. “Liam, I don’t know what’s happening.” His eyes darted around the room, assessing the situation much quicker than I had. He tugged at his own restraints, his jaw tightening when he realized there was no immediate escape
LIAM I stood outside Ava’s house, nerves tearing through me. It had taken me far too long to realize how deeply I had hurt her. I had been a fool—letting my own uncle, John, manipulate me into casting her aside. My heart raced as I stared at the door, hoping, praying, she would listen. I lifted my hand to knock again, but the door suddenly opened. Isabella, her stepmother, stood before me. The hostility on her face was unmistakable, her lips curling into a sneer as she crossed her arms. “What are you doing here, Liam?” Her tone was icy. “I need to see Ava,” I said, my voice pleading. “I need to talk to her. Please.” She laughed bitterly, stepping forward, almost blocking the doorway. “Talk to her? After what you did? You have no right.” My heart clenched, but I refused to give up. “Isabella, I know I made mistakes. I just need five minutes—” “No,” she cut me off sharply. “You’re not coming in, Liam. She doesn’t need to hear more of your excuses.” I was about to respond when, s
Clara paced nervously in the hallway outside her brother’s room, debating whether to knock. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she rehearsed the conversation in her head. She knew Davies was loyal to their father, John, but after everything that had happened—after all the plotting and scheming—Clara couldn’t keep quiet any longer. She had seen the damage her father had caused, not just to Liam but to the entire family, and it was time to stop it. Taking a deep breath, she raised her hand and knocked on the door. A moment later, Davies opened it, surprise etched across his face. "Clara? What’s going on? It’s late," Davies said, stepping aside to let her in. Clara entered, her steps hesitant as she glanced around his room. "We need to talk. It’s important." Davies raised an eyebrow. "Talk about what? It better be good Clara. You know I don’t like when somebody interrupts my sleep” “Oh shut up. I came to talk about something important. Dad’s plan with Ava and Liam. Don’t yo
In the dimly lit study, the heavy scent of cigar smoke lingered in the air. John Tyson sat behind his large oak desk, fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood as his mind churned with plans and schemes. Across from him, Clara perched on the edge of a leather armchair, fidgeting with her hands, her gaze flicking nervously between the door and her brother. "I don’t like this," she muttered, breaking the tense silence. "We’ve done enough damage. Liam’s health has improved since Ava came into his life. Maybe it’s time to let things be." John’s gaze hardened as he turned to face her, his fingers pausing mid-tap. “You think I care about Liam’s well-being, Clara? This isn’t about him. It’s about our legacy, our fortune. Ava’s nothing more than a distraction, and I’ll be damned if I let her undo years of planning.” Clara sighed, leaning back in her chair, her shoulders sagging under the weight of their family’s endless plots. “We’ve been at this for too long, Dad. We’ve done