Chapter 4

Ava POV

The limousine smelled of rich leather and Harrison's guilt.

He sat across from me, pouring vintage champagne. He was wearing his tuxedo, the same one he wore to the Gala where we had first met. He looked like a prince.

"To us," he said, raising his glass with practiced ease. "To fresh starts."

I stared at him. "To the truth," I said.

He paused, then smiled tightly. "To the truth."

We clinked glasses. I took a sip. It was crisp, expensive, and laced with something faintly bitter.

"Where is Brooke tonight?" I asked, watching him over the crystal rim.

"Safe," he said dismissively. "Working."

"Working on what? Destroying families?"

Harrison sighed, putting his glass down with a sharp clink. "Ava, don't start. I'm trying here. Can't we just have one night?"

The limo pulled up to the marina. The Lady Vengeance, Harrison's yacht, bobbed in the dark water, lit up like a Christmas tree.

We boarded. The deck was set for dinner. Candlelight, white roses. It was beautiful. And it was a complete lie.

We ate in silence. I felt heavy. My limbs were starting to tingle. My eyelids felt like lead weights.

"Are you okay?" Harrison asked, his voice swimming in and out of focus.

"Tired," I slurred. "Dizzy."

"Maybe you should lie down," he said. He didn't sound surprised. He sounded relieved. "Go to the cabin. I'll join you in a bit."

He helped me down the stairs. The cabin was cool and dark. I collapsed onto the bed, the world spinning violently.

Drug, my mind screamed through the haze. He drugged the drink.

I fought the darkness. I bit my tongue until I tasted copper. I needed pain to stay awake.

I heard footsteps above. Not just Harrison's. High heels. Laughter.

I dragged myself off the bed. I crawled to the stairs. Every movement was a war against gravity. I pulled myself up, step by agonizing step.

I peeked over the edge of the hatch.

The romantic dinner table had been cleared. In its place stood a small group of people-Harrison's inner circle. And in the center, bathed in the soft glow of the deck lights, was Brooke.

She was wearing a silver dress that shimmered like fish scales. Harrison was on one knee in front of her.

He held a velvet box. Inside sat a diamond the size of a quail egg. It was the ancestral diamond of the Phelps family. The one he had told me was 'in a vault for safekeeping'. The one I was never allowed to wear.

"Brooke," Harrison said, his voice carrying over the water. "You are my partner. My equal. Will you marry me?"

Brooke threw her head back and laughed, a sound of pure victory. "Yes! Yes, Harry!"

The men clapped. They cheered.

I watched as he slid the ring onto her finger. The ring that should have been mine.

I stumbled. My foot hit a metal cleat with a loud clang.

The cheering stopped. All heads turned toward the hatch.

I stood there, swaying, holding onto the railing for dear life.

"Ava?" Harrison stood up, his face draining of color. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"Used... goods," I mumbled, pointing a shaking finger at Brooke.

Brooke smirked. She walked over to Harrison and looped her arm through his, resting her hand on his chest so the diamond caught the light.

"Go back to bed, sweetie," Brooke cooed. "The grown-ups are talking."

"You..." I looked at Harrison. "You drugged me... for this?"

"I couldn't have you making a scene," Harrison said, his voice cold again. "Brooke is pregnant, Ava. She carries my son. This is necessary."

The world tilted.

Pregnant.

I didn't scream. I didn't cry. The drug pulled me down, down into the black water of unconsciousness. But before I went under, I made a vow of my own.

I wasn't going to just leave him. I was going to burn his entire world to ash.