Chapter 4

The maître d' led Ava to the secluded VIP booth at the back of Le Bernardin. The lighting was dim, the atmosphere hushed and thick with money.

Ava tossed the massive bouquet of violently red roses onto the pristine white tablecloth. The color was a garish stain against the refined elegance of the room. It was a garish display, completely opposite to Eldridge's usual understated elegance.

A moment later, Bird Blair appeared. She wore a pure white haute couture dress that made her look like a delicate porcelain doll.

Bird saw the roses. A micro-expression of confusion and distaste flashed across her eyes, but it was instantly replaced by a wide, shy smile.

She sat down across from Ava. She reached her small hand across the table, trying to cover Ava's large hand.

"El," Bird said, her voice soft and trembling with fake concern. "I was so worried. Does your head hurt from the fall?"

Ava smoothly pulled her hand back, picking up her water glass. She took a sip, letting her eyes drag slowly and deliberately up and down Bird's body. It was a sleazy, violating look.

Bird stiffened. Her smile faltered. She tugged nervously at the hem of her dress.

"Is something wrong, El?" Bird asked, her voice tight. "You seem... different today."

Ava leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. She lowered her voice into a greasy, suggestive purr.

"What's wrong, baby?" Ava asked. "Don't you like it when I look at you?"

Bird's face froze. This was not the Eldridge she knew. The Eldridge she knew was a silent protector, a man who treated her like a fragile piece of glass.

But Bird forced a blush to her cheeks and looked down at her lap. "It's just... sudden."

The waiter approached. Ava didn't even look at the menu.

"Bring us the foie gras, the heaviest cream-based lobster bisque, and the wagyu beef," Ava ordered loudly, her voice carrying across the quiet dining room.

Bird's eyes widened. "El, you know I'm a strict vegan."

Ava waved her hand dismissively, cutting her off. "Nonsense. Women need to eat more meat. It makes them softer to hold."

A flash of pure, unadulterated disgust appeared in Bird's eyes. Her jaw tightened. But then, she took a deep breath, forced a smile, and nodded.

"If you say so, El," Bird murmured.

Ava watched her. Her stomach churned with a mixture of triumph and nausea. Bird didn't love Eldridge. She loved his power. She was willing to swallow any humiliation, any disgust, as long as she could secure her position next to the billionaire CEO.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the entrance of the restaurant.

Eldridge burst through the doors. His trench coat was wrinkled. His hair was a mess from the wind. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving.

He spotted the booth in the corner. His eyes locked onto Ava and Bird. Pure fury ignited in his gaze.

He stomped across the dining room, his heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor.

Bird saw him coming. She let out a tiny, frightened gasp and shrank back in her chair, pressing herself against the wall as if trying to hide behind Ava.

Eldridge reached the table. He slammed both his hands flat onto the wood. The silverware rattled violently.

"What the hell are you doing? !" Eldridge roared, glaring at Ava.

Ava slowly picked up her napkin and wiped the corner of her mouth. She leaned back in her chair, looking up at him with an expression of utter boredom and contempt.

"Are you following me, Ava?" Ava asked, her voice dripping with annoyance.

Eldridge pointed a trembling finger at her. "You know exactly what I am doing here! You need to stop this right now!"

He opened his mouth to scream the truth, to tell Bird that he was Eldridge.

Ava's eyes turned lethal. She stood up abruptly. She reached out and grabbed Eldridge's wrist. Her grip was like a steel vice, crushing the delicate bones.

Eldridge cried out in pain, trying to pull away, but he was completely powerless.

Ava turned her head and gave Bird a reassuring, fake smile. Then she turned back to Eldridge.

"You are a hysterical, jealous lunatic," Ava shouted, making sure every table around them could hear. "Get out of here immediately. Stop embarrassing me!"

Eldridge's eyes widened in absolute shock. The words hit him like physical blows to the chest. He had never spoken to his wife this way, but hearing those words come out of his own mouth, directed at him, was a surreal nightmare.

He looked at Bird. He looked at the woman he had protected for years. He expected her to stand up, to say something kind, to calm the situation down.

Bird looked up at him through her eyelashes. Her voice was a fragile whisper, but the words were razor-sharp.

"Ava, please," Bird pleaded softly. "Eldridge is just exhausted. You shouldn't push him so hard. I know you two only stay married for the PR image. I understand."

The blood froze in Eldridge's veins.

Bird's words did two things instantly: they validated the narrative that "Ava" was crazy, and they publicly declared that Bird was the understanding, superior woman waiting in the wings.

It was a masterclass in manipulation.

In that single moment, the pristine, innocent filter through which Eldridge had viewed Bird Blair shattered into a million pieces.

Ava let go of his wrist, throwing his arm away in disgust. She pulled three hundred-dollar bills from her wallet and threw them on the table.

"I apologize," Ava said to Bird. "This crazy woman just ruined my appetite."

Ava turned and walked away, her strides long and confident, leaving the restaurant without looking back.

Eldridge stood alone by the table. The entire restaurant was staring at him. He could hear the whispers. He could feel the pitying, mocking stares burning into his skin.

He looked down at Bird. Bird was sitting in her chair, looking at him. The fake fear was gone. A tiny, victorious smirk played on the corner of her lips. She picked up her water glass and took a sip.

A wave of intense, burning humiliation washed over Eldridge. His throat tightened. Tears of pure frustration and shame pricked the corners of his eyes.

He turned and ran. He pushed past the waiters, bursting out the front doors and running into the cold, unforgiving rain of the New York night.