Ava POV:

The biting wind whipped around the entrance of the law firm, stinging my exposed skin.

Security had marched me out five minutes ago.

My box of personal effects-a pitiful cardboard tomb for a seven-year career-sat on the curb next to me.

"Disbarred," the senior partner had said, refusing to meet my gaze. "Pending investigation into the fraud allegations."

Liam moved fast.

He had leaked the confession I signed less than an hour ago.

In the court of public opinion, I was already the villain.

I reached into the box and pulled out a stack of research notes.

To the untrained eye, they looked like standard case studies.

To me, they were my insurance policy.

Hidden ledgers.

Routing numbers.

The financial DNA of the Valenti crime family.

"There she is!"

The scream came from the left.

I turned just as something wet and heavy struck my shoulder. A rotten tomato exploded against my white blouse, splattering red pulp across the silk.

A crowd had gathered.

Not paparazzi.

Civilians.

People who had lost their homes, their pensions, and their livelihoods to the Valenti loan-sharking schemes.

Schemes that were now publicly attributed to me.

"Thief!"

"Whore!"

"Give me back my money!"

The mob surged forward like a tidal wave.

I stumbled back, my heel catching on the curb.

My ankle twisted with a sickening pop.

I fell hard onto the asphalt, the research notes scattering across the grime of the street.

"No," I gasped, scrambling to gather them.

A heavy boot slammed down on my hand.

I looked up.

A man with a desperate, angry face glared down at me.

"You ruined my life," he spat.

I didn't argue.

I couldn't tell him that the man who actually ruined his life was standing twenty floors up, watching us like a god in his tower.

I looked up at the glass balcony of the firm.

Liam was there.

He was leaning against the railing, a tumbler of scotch in his hand.

Chloe was beside him, feigning shock, her hand pressed theatrically over her mouth.

Liam pointed down at me.

He was showing me my place.

In the dirt.

Beneath his boot.

The crowd surged again, shoving me.

My head hit the pavement hard.

Stars burst behind my eyes, syncing with the throbbing pain radiating from my ankle.

But then, I heard it.

My phone dinged.

One single, clear tone cutting through the shouting.

I scrambled for it, curling my body to shield the screen from the angry mob.

Package delivered. Mother is in London. Safe.

Ethan.

A laugh bubbled up in my throat.

It sounded jagged, broken-a sound barely human.

The man stepping on my hand pulled back, looking unsettled by my reaction.

"She's crazy," someone whispered.

I laughed harder.

I wasn't crazy.

I was untethered.

I pushed myself up, ignoring the screaming agony in my ankle.

I grabbed the scattered papers, shoving them into my blouse, pressing them against my skin like armor.

"Get away from me!" I screamed at the crowd.

The ferocity in my voice made them recoil.

I limped away.

One step. Two steps.

Dragging my injured leg behind me.

I didn't go to my apartment. Liam would have guards waiting.

I hailed a cab, practically throwing myself into the back seat.

"Hospital," I gasped. "St. Jude's."

I needed to make one final stop before the airport.

I needed visual confirmation that the extraction was clean.

I texted Nex.

Burn it down.

The reply was instantaneous.

Initializing.

The cab screeched up to the hospital entrance.

I threw a wad of cash at the driver and stumbled out.

I needed to see the empty room.

I needed to see the ghost of where she used to be.

I hobbled through the sliding doors.

And ran straight into a wall of muscle.

A hand clamped around my upper arm like a vice.

"Going somewhere, cara?"

The voice was smooth, dark, and terrifyingly familiar.

I looked up.

Liam.

He wasn't smiling anymore.

His eyes were scanning the lobby, paranoid and predatory.

"I'm visiting my mother," I lied, my voice steady despite the fire in my leg.

"Are you?" Liam asked.

He squeezed my arm harder, his fingers digging into my bruise.

"Let's go see her then."

He dragged me toward the elevators.

He didn't know.

Not yet.

But he was about to find out that his bird had flown the cage.

Ava POV

The hospital corridor smelled of antiseptic and impending ruin.

Liam's grip on my arm was a vice, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he propelled me toward Room 402 like a prisoner to the gallows.

"Give me your phone," he demanded, not breaking his stride.

"Why?"

"Because I said so."

He snatched it from my hand before I could protest.

He unlocked it-he knew my passcode, of course. Possession was nine-tenths of his love language. I had never been allowed secrets. Until today.

He scrolled through the messages, his thumb moving with frantic speed.

I held my breath.

The interface showed nothing.

It was just the dummy screen Nex had installed. No texts to Ethan. No "Protocol Zero." Just mundane reminders, a grocery list, and spam.

Liam frowned, jamming the phone into his pocket.

"You're hiding something," he muttered.

We reached the room.

He didn't knock. He threw the door open so hard it bounced off the rubber stopper.

"Eleanor, I-"

He stopped.

The room was silent.

The bed was stripped to the mattress.

The monitors were dark.

The ventilator was unplugged, the cord coiled with mocking neatness on the hook.

Empty.

Liam stood frozen.

For a second, he looked like a statue, a monument to his own failure.

Then, he exploded.

He kicked the IV stand next to the bed. It crashed to the floor with a deafening clang, rolling wildly across the linoleum.

I flinched.

He saw it.

He spun around, his eyes wild.

"Where is she?" he roared.

"I don't know," I said, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Maybe they moved her for tests."

"Don't lie to me!"

He grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my jaw until I thought the bone might snap.

"You moved her. How? Who helped you?"

"I have no one, Liam!" I cried out. "You made sure of that!"

He stared at me, searching for the truth in my eyes.

Slowly, the realization dawned on him. He had lost his leverage.

The fear in his eyes was visceral. It was delicious.

"You think this changes anything?" he hissed, spittle flying from his lips. "You think because she's gone, you can leave?"

"Yes," I said. "The engagement is over. The blackmail is over."

He laughed.

It was a sound devoid of humor, dry as old bones.

"You are property, Ava. You leave when I say you leave."

He dragged me out of the room.

"Where are we going?" I struggled against him, my bad ankle throbbing with every step as I tried to keep my footing.

"To fix your mess."

He didn't take me to the car.

He dragged me through the service exit and down the connecting tunnel to the adjacent building.

The Research Center.

Also known as "The Lab."

The heart of the Valenti money laundering operation.

We took the freight elevator down to the basement.

The doors opened to a hum of servers and the cool, sterile air of climate control.

Chloe was there.

She was sitting at a terminal, looking frantic, her face pale beneath the harsh fluorescent lights.

"Liam!" she cried when she saw us. "It's gone! All of it!"

"What is gone?" Liam demanded, throwing me toward the desk.

I stumbled, catching myself on the sharp edge of a server rack.

"The laundering codes," Chloe wiled. "The algorithm for the offshore accounts. I tried to log in, and it said 'File Corrupted.' She did it! Ava deleted them!"

I looked at the screen.

I hadn't deleted them.

I had encrypted them.

Only I had the key.

"Fix it," Liam ordered me.

"No," I said.

The slap came out of nowhere.

It cracked across my cheek like a whip.

My head snapped to the side. I tasted copper flooding my mouth.

It was the first time he had ever hit me.

I touched my cheek, looking at him. My skin burned, but my resolve turned to ice.

"You coward," I whispered.

"I said fix it!" Liam yelled, his voice cracking. "The Commission is expecting the transfer by midnight! If the money doesn't move, we are dead!"

"She's lying, Liam!" Chloe pointed a manicured finger at me, her hand trembling. "She's trying to destroy us!"

Liam looked at Chloe, then at me.

He chose the lie.

He always chose the lie.

"You want to play games?" Liam grabbed me by the hair, yanking my head back.

"Liam, stop!" I screamed.

He dragged me toward the back of the room.

Toward the main server vault.

"You want to be in control?" he snarled. "Fine. You stay in there until you remember the codes."

He opened the heavy glass door of the server room.

He threw me inside.

I landed hard on the metal grating, the impact knocking the wind out of me.

"Liam, please!"

He slammed the door shut.

The electronic lock engaged with a heavy, final thud.

He stood on the other side of the glass, his face twisted with rage.

"Midnight, Ava," he said through the intercom. "Or I don't open this door."

I scrambled to the glass, pounding on it with my fists.

But then I heard it.

A low beeping sound.

Coming from the server rack behind me.

I turned around.

A small red light was blinking on a device attached to the main hard drive.

It wasn't a standard component.

It was rigged.

I looked at the timer.

This wasn't just a lock-in.

It was a setup.

Chloe hadn't simply lost the codes.

She was purging the evidence.

And I was the evidence.