Chapter 4

Pain.

A deep, gnawing pain in her side.

Ava drifted in and out of consciousness in a stark, impersonal hospital room.

Sunlight streamed through the window, mocking her misery.

Two nurses bustled in, chattering.

"Mr.Walker is so devoted to his girlfriend, isn't he? He hasn't left her side."

"Chloe Vance, the model? She's lucky to have him."

Ava's voice was a weak rasp. "I'm... I'm his wife."

The nurses looked at each other, then at Ava, their faces flushing.

They mumbled apologies and quickly left.

Alone again. Always alone.

She tried to sit up, needing water.

The movement sent daggers of pain through her.

She fumbled for the call button, her fingers weak.

She missed, and her hand slipped, sending her tumbling from the low bed onto the cold, hard floor.

The impact jarred her wound. A cry escaped her lips.

The door creaked open slightly.

She saw Liam's silhouette in the hallway.

He paused, looking at her lying there.

For a fleeting second, she thought she saw a flicker of something – concern? – in his eyes.

Then, it was gone.

He turned and walked away, leaving her on the floor.

Later, Marcus Thorne, Liam's COO, visited Liam in Chloe's private room.

Ava heard their muffled voices from her own room down the hall; the walls were thin.

"Sir," Marcus said, his tone hesitant. "What you're doing to Ava... it's... excessive. She's given a kidney."

Liam's voice was cold. "They all died. My parents, my sister. Why should she live peacefully? She carries their blood."

"But she herself is innocent, Liam. This vendetta..."

"I can't forgive them, Marcus," Liam cut in, his voice tight with a pain Ava recognized. "So I can't forgive her. And I can't forgive myself for ever loving her."

The words were a fresh stab to Ava's already bleeding heart.

Days later, still recovering, Ava received a text message.

A picture.

Chloe Vance, preening in a hospital gown, a smug smile on her face.

Around Chloe's neck was a distinctive vintage sapphire pendant.

Ava's breath hitched.

It was her mother's. Her most cherished heirloom. The last piece of her mother she had.

The accompanying text read: "It looks better on me, don't you think? Liam agrees. He said it brings out the blue in my eyes. The same blue he used to love in yours."

Rage, hot and fierce, surged through Ava, momentarily eclipsing her pain and weakness.

She dragged herself out of bed, clutching her side, and stumbled down the hall to Chloe's room.

Chloe was alone, admiring herself in a hand mirror.

"Where did you get that?" Ava demanded, her voice hoarse.

Chloe's smirk widened. "Liam gave it to me. A token of his affection."

"That was my mother's! Give it back!"

"Hmm," Chloe tapped a finger to her lips. "Tell you what. Give me what I want – a divorce, publicly take all the blame for everything, say you never loved him, that you only married him for his money – and maybe, just maybe, you'll get your little trinket back."

Ava stared, horrified. The cruelty was astounding.

But the pendant... it was all she had left of her mother.

"Fine," Ava whispered, defeated. "I'll give you the divorce. I'll say whatever you want."

"You'll give me the divorce?"

Liam's voice cut through the air like a whip. He stood in the doorway, his face dark with fury.

He had clearly overheard only the end of her sentence.

"So that's it?" he snarled, advancing on Ava. "You care more for this bauble than for any remnant of what we had? More than for the lives your parents destroyed?"

He snatched the pendant from Chloe's neck, the delicate chain breaking.

"I'll destroy everything connected to them! To you!"

He strode towards the room's balcony, the door to the hospital's rooftop garden.

"Liam, no!" Ava cried, lunging after him, desperate to save the necklace.

He raised his arm to throw it over the railing.

She reached for it, a desperate, clumsy grab.

Their hands collided.

In the struggle, Ava lost her balance.

The world tilted.

She was falling.

A scream tore from Liam's throat, raw, terrified. "AVA!"

She hit a lower roof with sickening force.

Darkness.

Then, voices. Dr. Ramirez. "Multiple fractures... internal bleeding... She's critical."

Liam's voice, strained, harsh. "She doesn't get to die that easily. I decide when her suffering ends. Save her!"

Ava, drifting in a sea of pain, heard him.

*Fine... I'll die then...* she thought, a flicker of defiance in her fading consciousness. *And you'll be free...*

But he wouldn't even grant her that. Not yet.

His hatred was a prison with no escape, not even in death.