Chapter 3

The next morning, the 'Nexus' office was a tomb. The energy that had once filled the space, the buzz of collaboration and late-night coding sessions, was gone. All that remained were empty desks and dark computer screens. Ava walked through the silent space, her footsteps the only sound.

She had brought a small, velvet-lined box with her. In the center of the main workspace, she knelt and opened it. Inside was the final prototype her team had been working on before Victor' s axe fell. It was a small, elegant device, a haptic feedback generator for virtual reality, designed to help people with motor neuron diseases experience a sense of touch. It was her baby, the culmination of her eight-month-old startup' s dream.

This was her funeral for it. A silent, personal memorial for a life that had been cut short. She ran her fingers over the smooth casing, remembering the excitement of the first successful test, the faces of her team, bright with hope. A single tear tracked a path through the dust on her cheek.

"Well, isn' t this just heartbreaking."

Ava' s head snapped up. Celeste Dubois stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as if she owned the place. Her red dress was a slash of violent color in the grey, dead room.

"What are you doing here?" Ava asked, her voice tight.

"Victor told me you were coming to collect your junk," Celeste said, sauntering into the room. Her heels clicked loudly on the concrete floor. "I was curious to see what was so important."

She stopped in front of Ava, looking down at the prototype in the box with a look of disdain.

"This is it? This little trinket? This is what you were building your pathetic little empire on?"

"It was important to us," Ava said, her hand instinctively closing over the device.

Celeste' s smile was sharp and cruel. "You know, Victor and I were just closing a deal with a medical tech firm. A big one. They' re working on haptic feedback too. Of course, their tech is lightyears ahead of... this." She gestured dismissively at the prototype. "He did this for me, you know. Shut you down. A little present to show his commitment."

The words were meant to hurt, and they did. Ava felt a surge of rage, hot and powerful, a feeling she hadn' t experienced in months. She stood up slowly, clutching the box to her chest.

"Get out," she said, her voice low and shaking.

Celeste laughed. "Or what? You' ll cry on me?" She took a step closer, her eyes gleaming with malice. "You are nothing, Ava. A placeholder. A pawn in a game you don' t even understand. He keeps you around for fun, to remind himself of his victory."

In a flash of movement too quick to prevent, Celeste snatched the prototype from Ava' s hands.

"Give it back," Ava gasped, reaching for it.

Celeste held it up, examining it. "It' s so small. So fragile. Just like you."

With a flick of her wrist, she threw it against the far wall. The plastic casing cracked, and a tiny circuit board skittered across the floor.

Something inside Ava snapped. A primal scream tore from her throat, and she launched herself at Celeste. She didn't think; she just reacted. Her hands found Celeste' s expensive silk dress, and she shoved, hard.

Celeste, caught off guard by the sudden violence, stumbled backward, her heel catching on a stray cable. She went down with a surprised shriek, her head hitting the corner of a metal desk with a sickening crack.

For a moment, there was silence. Ava stood panting, staring down at Celeste, who lay groaning on the floor, a trickle of blood matting her blonde hair.

Ava rushed to the broken prototype, kneeling beside the pieces. "No, no, no," she whispered, trying to fit the cracked casing back together. It was useless. It was destroyed.

"You... you crazy bitch!" Celeste whimpered, pushing herself up on her elbows. "You' ll pay for this! Victor will kill you!"

"Please," Ava begged, not looking at Celeste, her eyes fixed on the ruined device. "Just let me have the pieces. Please, just let me keep the pieces." Her voice broke on a sob. This wasn' t just a prototype. It was the last piece of her father' s legacy she had been able to build on, the last piece of herself.

Celeste struggled to her feet, swaying slightly. She saw the velvet box on the floor. With a vicious kick, she sent it flying. Then she staggered over to the broken pieces of the prototype and brought her sharp heel down on the main circuit board, grinding it into the concrete until it was nothing but glittering dust.

"There," she spat, her face contorted with rage and pain. "Now it' s all gone."

The sound of the door opening made them both freeze. Victor stood there, his face a thunderous mask. He took in the scene in an instant: Celeste with blood in her hair, Ava on her knees amid the wreckage, sobbing.

"Victor, darling," Celeste cried, stumbling toward him. "She attacked me! Look what she did to me! She' s insane!"

Victor' s eyes, cold as ice, settled on Ava. He didn' t even glance at the ruined device. He saw only the chaos, and he saw his lover, bleeding.

"What the hell did you do?" he roared at Ava.

Ava looked up at him, her face streaked with tears and dust. The last ember of hope in her had been extinguished. There was nothing left but a cold, dark emptiness.

"I want a divorce, Victor," she said, her voice eerily calm. "Let me go. It' s over."

He strode over to her, grabbing her by the hair and forcing her head back. His face was inches from hers, his expression terrifying.

"Over?" he snarled. "It' s over when I say it' s over. You don' t get to decide anything. You attacked Celeste. You will apologize to her, on your knees."

He looked at the glittering dust on the floor. Without a word, he stomped on it himself, grinding the last recognizable fragments into nothing. He was erasing her, piece by piece.

Ava' s body went limp. The final, definitive act of destruction broke the last thread holding her together. She didn' t scream. She didn' t cry. She just collapsed, the world going dark around her as consciousness blessedly fled.

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