Chapter 4 ☆☆

I don't even remember moving. One second I was watching him - the man in the dark suit, standing so still at the door - and the next, I was walking.

Fast. Silent.

Down the stairs, past the foyer, through the parlor where morning light spilled through stained glass like fractured jewels. But none of it touched me. I felt... separate. Like I was watching myself from somewhere far away.

The bell had stopped ringing. But he hadn't left.

He was still there.

Waiting.

I didn't answer.

Instead, I went straight to my father's study - locked, of course - and pounded once on the door.

I didn't yell.

I didn't need to.

He opened it a moment later, already dressed in one of his usual charcoal suits, tie loose, expression unreadable.

"Ava," he said calmly. "It's early."

I stepped inside. "Who is that man at the door?"

He didn't flinch.

But he also didn't answer.

I folded my arms tightly. "There was a car parked outside for four days. Watching the estate. Watching me. Then I get a call from an unknown number - someone who knew my name, who told me not to walk alone - and now this man shows up the minute it's gone?"

He looked past me, toward the window.

"You're being dramatic."

"No," I snapped, "I'm being observant. Don't insult me like I'm a child."

Something flickered in his eyes then - not anger, not quite - but something that made my stomach twist.

I stepped closer.

"What's going on, Papà?"

"Ava-"

"You've been hiding something. I found files. Photos of me." My throat tightened. "Why would you need surveillance pictures of your own daughter?"

He looked at me for a long time.

Then he walked to the decanter, poured himself a drink he didn't sip, and said quietly, "It's not what you think."

That was the worst part.

Because he didn't deny it.

My voice cracked. "Then what is it?"

He didn't answer.

Just turned toward the window and stared out like the answer was somewhere in the garden.

"I deserve the truth," I said. "If you love me at all-"

He set the glass down with a sharp clink.

"You don't understand the world I've kept you from," he said. "You've lived inside a shell of safety your whole life, and I built it that way. For a reason."

My heart dropped.

"So I was right," I whispered. "There is something. Something dangerous."

Silence.

A beat.

Then, softly: "You're not in danger."

I almost laughed. "Forgive me if that's hard to believe, considering I'm being watched and followed and-"

"You're being protected."

Those three words shut me up.

My pulse roared in my ears. "What do you mean protected?"

But he didn't elaborate.

Instead, he turned back to the desk and picked up his phone, his voice quiet but firm. "Send him away. I'll call when it's time."

I stood frozen.

Him.

Who?

He looked at me again, and suddenly... he looked tired.

So, so tired.

"I've done everything I could to keep you out of this," he said. "But there are debts that don't stay buried forever."

"Debts?" I echoed. "What debts? What are you talking about?"

"I can't tell you yet."

"Then when?"

His jaw clenched. "Soon."

Soon.

Like the word didn't come with a ticking clock tied to it.

I walked out before he could say anything else.

Because I knew if I stayed - if I let myself believe there was still honesty left between us - I'd break right there in front of him.

And I wasn't ready to break.

Not yet.