Mario Huxley was losing his mind.
He stood in the middle of the living room, a drink in one hand, his phone clutched tight in the other. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed with rage and the bitter burn of whiskey.
"No one disappears on me," he growled, his voice thick with venom.
Two of his men stood awkwardly by the doorway, their expressions taut with unease. No one dared to meet his eyes. Not after hours of fruitless searching, of dead ends and silence.
"She's not at the hotels," one of them finally muttered. "No one's seen her. It's like she vanished."
Mario downed the rest of his drink in one savage gulp and slammed the glass down so hard the edge cracked. Mia, seated a few feet away on the arm of the couch, flinched.
"You better pray you find her," Mario snarled. "Because if you don't, I swear to God…"
"Mario," Mia interjected, her tone low, cautious. "Maybe she ran off to a friend's house. She'll come crawling back. You know Ava. She can't survive on her own."
He whipped his head toward her, his glare sharp enough to cut. "I didn't ask for your opinion."
Mia's lips parted, a retort on the tip of her tongue — but she stopped herself. She could tell from the storm in his eyes it wasn't the time to provoke him. Not now.
Still, it stung. Even now, carrying his child, she was disposable. The reminder made bile rise in her throat.
She bit down on her words, though, and shifted tactics. "You should eat something," she offered softly. "Calm down. You'll need a clear head to find her."
But Mario wasn't interested in calm. His rage was a living thing now, an animal gnawing at his insides.
"Ava belongs to me," he hissed under his breath. "No one takes what's mine."
**
Miles away, Ava stared out over the gardens from one of the mansion's sprawling balconies. The sunset painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, but the beauty of it was lost on her.
Too much had happened in one day.
First the public humiliation, then Mario's threats, and now… this. A lavish estate that felt a world away from the suffocating home she'd left behind. And Damian.
Damian Lancaster.
The name still sounded surreal in her mind. She remembered bits and pieces now — the childhood memories, the boy who used to braid her hair clumsily and sneak her cookies when her mother wasn't looking. But the man standing before her now bore little resemblance to that boy.
Damian was power personified. Dangerous in the way only a man who'd built an empire from blood and grit could be. And the way he looked at her…
It terrified and thrilled her all at once.
As if summoned by her thoughts, she heard footsteps behind her. Turning, she found Damian approaching, his hands in his pockets, a small smile playing at his lips.
"You should eat," he murmured. "You haven't touched anything since you got here."
Ava shrugged. "I'm not really hungry."
"You need your strength, Ava." His voice dropped, softer now, but no less commanding.
She didn't answer. Couldn't. Because there was a question burning inside her she hadn't dared ask.
"Why are you doing this?" she finally whispered, her gaze searching his.
Damian leaned against the railing beside her, his dark eyes never leaving hers. "I told you. I remember everything."
"That doesn't explain why you care."
His expression darkened slightly. "Because you're mine."
The words landed like a blow to the chest. Ava's breath caught.
"I—"
"You don't have to say anything," Damian cut in, his voice rougher now, edged with something raw. "I don't expect you to feel the same. Not yet. But I'll protect you, Ava. From him. From your mother. From Naomi. From anyone who thinks they can break you."
Ava's eyes burned. No one had ever said anything like that to her. Not Mario. Not her mother. No one.
For a moment, a dangerous thought slid through her mind — what if she stayed? What if she let him fight for her?
But she couldn't afford that. She couldn't drag him into her mess.
"I don't want anyone hurt because of me," she murmured.
Damian's jaw tightened. "I don't care."
Before she could respond, one of his men appeared at the balcony doors. "Sir, Mario Huxley's been making calls. He's threatening to tear this city apart if he doesn't find her soon."
Ava stiffened. Damian's gaze never wavered from hers.
"Let him look," he said coolly. "He won't find her."
"But—"
"If he steps foot near this property," Damian's voice dropped to a deadly murmur, "he'll regret it."
The guard gave a sharp nod and left.
Ava turned back toward the sunset, her emotions a storm she couldn't name.
Damian stayed beside her, the space between them charged with words unsaid.
"Are you afraid of me, Ava?" he asked quietly.
She startled at the question. Glanced at him.
"No," she admitted. "But maybe I should be."
Damian chuckled softly, and for the first time, it wasn't cold. "Smart girl."
**
Back at the Huxley estate, the walls felt like they were closing in on Mario.
Another hour. Another dead end. Every second Ava stayed missing chipped away at his control.
Mia watched him unravel from across the room, satisfaction flickering behind her false concern. She'd spent years watching Mario torment Ava, and now… the tables were turning. Not that Mia cared about Ava. But the power shift excited her.
Still, she knew one thing — Bryan's fury was a wildfire. If no one stopped it, it would consume them all.
As if sensing her gaze, Mario turned. "If you knew anything, Mia, now would be the time to speak up."
"I told you," she said smoothly, "I don't."
He stalked toward her, his presence suffocating. "If you're lying—"
"I'm pregnant," she snapped, lifting her chin. "Threaten me again, and we'll see who the media sides with when I go public about the abuse."
For a tense second, Mario said nothing. Then, slowly, a cruel smile twisted his lips.
"Careful, Mia," he murmured. "That baby's the only reason you're still breathing."
Mia's blood ran cold, but she held his gaze.
He wouldn't touch her.
Not yet.