But here she was, standing in the dim light of Martha's orchard shed, the key Finn gave her clutched in her palm. The air smelled of apples and gasoline.
"Knew you'd show up."
She whirled. Avery leaned against the doorframe, moonlight carving shadows across his jaw. "Your security band know you're here?"
"I fired them," she said, lifting her chin.
Something dark flickered in his eyes. He stepped closer, pushing her steps slowly against the workbench. "Why are you here, Isabelle?"
"You gave me a key."
"And you blew up your life." His voice roughened. "You don't belong in this world."
"Then where do I belong?" The words tore out of her.
Avery's hand cradled her face, rough and tender all at once. "God help me," he breathed.
And then his mouth was on hers, hot and desperate, tasting of cider and defiance. Isabelle gripped his shirt, pulling him closer, the wrench clattering, forgotten to the floor.
When they broke apart, his forehead rested against hers. "Still think rich people don't understand?" she teased, voice unsteady.
Avery huffed a laugh against her lips. "Shut up, Abel."
And kissed her again.
The shed door banged open with a crash that shook the rafters.
Isabelle barely had time to register the flood of artificial light before Avery was yanking her behind him, his wrench raised like a weapon.
"Ah. How touching."
Eleanor Abel stood silhouetted in the doorway, four security guards flanking her. The cold smile on her face made Isabelle's blood turn to ice.
"Mom"
"Did you really think," Eleanor interrupted, stepping forward in her pristine heels, "that I wouldn't have you followed?" Her gaze flicked to Avery with open disgust. "After you threw away everything for... this?"
Avery's grip on the wrench tightened. "Get out."
Eleanor laughed, the sound like breaking crystal. She held up a smartphone—the screen showed a live news feed. Isabelle's stomach dropped as she read the headline:
ABEL HEIRESS DECLARED UNFIT - BOARD VOTES TO SEIZE SHARES
"You're nothing now," Eleanor whispered. "No money. No power. Just another squatter in the dirt." She nodded to the guards. "Take her."
Isabelle reacted on instinct—she grabbed the fallen wrench and swung.
The first guard went down with a grunt. Avery tackled the second, sending tools scattering. In the chaos, Isabelle saw her chance—she grabbed Avery's hand and bolted for the back window.
"Run!" she screamed as they crashed through the rotting wood, tumbling into the moonlit orchard. Behind them, shouts echoed through the trees.
They ran until their lungs burned, until the only sounds were their pounding hearts and the distant wail of sirens. Hidden deep in the apple grove, Avery pressed Isabelle against a gnarled tree trunk, his breath hot against her ear.
"Your family..."
"Dead to me," Isabelle gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.
Avery's eyes burned with something fierce. "Then we fight." He kissed her hard, all teeth and desperation. "But we don't play nice anymore."
Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. Flashlights cut through the trees.
Isabelle pressed the wrench back into Avery's hand—their fingers lingering on the worn initials T.L.
"Then let's give them a war."
The distant rumble of bulldozers shook the ground beneath their feet. Isabelle turned toward the sound—toward the Lawson home, where floodlights now painted the night in harsh white.
"They're starting early," Avery growled.
Isabelle's fingers found his, tightening around the wrench. "Then we start now."
A new sound cut through the chaos—not sirens, but voices. Dozens of them.
Finn's shout carried from the road: "They're in the orchard! This way!"
Flashlights bloomed through the trees like fireflies, not security, but neighbors. Protesters. Martha leading them with a shotgun in one hand, a gasoline can in the other.
Avery's breath left him in a rush. "You called them?"
Isabelle smiled, all sharp edges. "I learned from the best."
As the mob drew forward, as the first demolition crane sputtered and died, Isabelle Abel did something she'd never done before in her life of polished perfection.
She charged into battle exactly as she was.