Chapter 6 The First Lie

Ava Monroe had told a lot of lies in her life. White lies. Business lies. Even the kind that kept her out of courtrooms. But this? This wasn't a lie. It was a gamble with no backup plan. She stood at the edge of the welcome brunch the next morning, dressed in cream linen and gold-rimmed sunglasses, staring out at the sea while pretending her world hadn't just tilted sideways. Pretending she wasn't now wearing a ring. A thin, elegant band Kai had handed her that morning like it meant nothing. No proposal. No warning. Just: "You'll need this.

They'll check." Now she was "his fiancée." And everyone was watching. --- They stood together for the first time at noon. Ava barely said a word. Kai didn't have to. He was magnetic. Possessive without touching her. Dangerous without smiling. One look from him was enough to quiet a room. They didn't hold hands. Didn't kiss. And still, whispers circled them like perfume. One woman in a backless dress muttered, "Since when is Kai engaged?" Another: "Did Victor arrange it?" And worse: "She doesn't look like his type." Ava clenched her teeth and smiled through it all. Kai leaned toward her, voice low. "You're doing better than expected." "You didn't tell me there'd be a social death involved." He smirked. "You'll survive." She glanced at him. "Do you ever smile like you mean it?" His jaw shifted, just barely. "Not lately." --- That night, Ava found a folder slipped under her suite door. Inside: a photo. Grainy. Old. A boy in a school uniform, sitting alone on a step. Hands clenched. Eyes full of something cold. The same eyes as Kai. On the back, one line: "There are no accidental guests." She stared at the photo until her head throbbed. Then tucked it into the lining of her suitcase. --- Flashback – Kai, Age 9 The linen closet was dark. Warm. Smelled of lemons and sweat. Kai pressed his knees to his chest. Outside the door, voices rose again-his father's, deep and sharp, followed by a woman's. His mother. There was glass breaking. Then silence. A whisper through the door. "Don't speak. Don't move. Not yet." He didn't cry. Not even when the house went still for hours and no one came back. That night, he learned something important: Silence keeps you safe. Names make you vulnerable. And no one comes to save you. --- Ava woke to find Kai in her room. Not inside. On the balcony. Barefoot. Holding coffee. "You should really stop doing that," she said, voice hoarse. He didn't turn. "Did you get the photo?" She nodded. "Where was it taken?" "My first school," he said. "Right before I disappeared." She walked out to join him. "You said you needed answers," she murmured. "From Victor." "I do." "And what am I?" she asked. "Just your access pass?" He turned then. Slowly. "You're not just anything." Ava stared at him, heart oddly unsteady. "You said this would keep me safe," she whispered. "But what if you're the danger?" His silence was answer enough. And still-still-she didn't ask him to leave.