Chapter 2

I tried to find a quiet corner to call Mr. Davies, my mother' s fiercely loyal executive assistant. He' d know what to do, or at least get a message to Mom.

But as I pulled out my phone, Ethan appeared, Chloe clinging to his arm, her face a mask of worried innocence.

"Trying to call your mommy to bail you out, Ava?" Ethan sneered.

"I' m calling for a ride, Ethan," I said, keeping my voice level. "This party is clearly over for me."

"Not until you apologize to Chloe!" he insisted, his voice rising.

He was always so easily manipulated, especially by a pretty face feigning distress. Chloe, naturally, looked like she was about to shatter.

"I have nothing to apologize for," I stated.

"Yes, you do!" Ethan lunged, not for me, but for my phone.

I sidestepped, but he was clumsy and angry. He knocked the phone from my hand. It skittered across the polished floor.

"Ethan!" I protested.

He didn't stop. He grabbed my arm. "You' re going to say sorry!"

I tried to pull away. "Let go of me."

His grip tightened. "Not until you-"

In the struggle, he shoved me. Hard.

I stumbled backwards, my heel catching on the rug. The world tilted.

Then, a crash.

I landed in the dessert table.

Cake, frosting, and shattered pastries exploded around me. A sharp pain shot through my wrist as I hit the edge of the table before collapsing into the sugary mess.

Laughter erupted from some corners of the room. Gasps from others.

Chloe rushed forward, her hands flying to her mouth. "Oh, Ava! Are you alright?"

Her feigned horror was sickening.

Ethan looked down at me, a mixture of shock and a strange, dark satisfaction on his face. My dress was ruined, sticky with frosting, and a cut on my arm was beginning to bleed through the sugary coating.

The humiliation burned, hotter than the sting on my arm.

Mr. Davies suddenly materialized at my side, his face grim.

"Miss Ava," he said, his voice a calm anchor in the chaos. He helped me up, ignoring the stares and whispers.

"Let's get you out of here."

As he escorted me away, I heard Richard' s voice, smooth and placating, already spinning the narrative for the remaining guests. "A little accident... young people... too much excitement..."

The party music swelled again, a little too quickly.

Later, cleaned up in my own suite, the silence was a relief. Mr. Davies had procured a secure satellite phone.

"Mother?" I said, when the call connected.

Victoria Sterling' s voice, though thousands of miles away, was as clear and strong as if she were in the room.

"Ava, darling. What' s happened? Davies sounded... concerned."

I told her everything. The party, Chloe' s accusation, Richard and Ethan' s public condemnation, the shove, the dessert table, the cut. I kept my voice steady, reporting facts, but the tremor was there.

There was a silence on the other end, a dangerous, coiled silence I knew well.

"He put his hands on you?" Victoria finally asked, her voice dangerously soft.

"Yes."

"And Richard allowed this... spectacle?"

"He demanded I apologize to Chloe."

Another pause. Then, "This medical retreat... it seems my 'illness' might be less dire than some people were hoping."

I felt a surge of relief so strong, my knees almost buckled.

"I' m coming home, Ava," Victoria said, her voice now like chilled steel. "And when I get there, I am going to clean house. Thoroughly."

A promise and a threat, all in one. My mother.