Chapter 1

Ava Jenkins stared at her reflection in the darkened window of the bus, a stranger looking back at her. Her hair was dyed a fiery red, her makeup was heavy and dark, and her clothes were loud, a desperate attempt to scream for attention.

But inside, she was silent.

In her purse, a folded piece of paper felt heavier than a brick. Idiopathic Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. The words were a death sentence. The doctor had been kind, but the meaning was clear. Her heart was failing, and there was no cure.

She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a piece of candy, unwrapping it with trembling fingers. The sweetness on her tongue was a small, temporary shield against the bitterness that filled her chest. She needed to see him. Just one more time.

The bus stopped, and she got off, walking toward the gleaming skyscraper that housed the city's most prestigious law firm. Tonight was their annual celebration, and she knew he would be there.

Liam Hayes. Her uncle.

Not by blood, not really. Her father had been married to Liam' s sister, but that was a lifetime ago. The title, however, stuck around, a convenient wall he always kept between them.

The party was in full swing, a sea of black suits and elegant dresses. Ava, in her bright, tight dress, felt like a stain on a pristine canvas. Whispers followed her as she moved through the crowd.

"Isn't that Liam Hayes's flamboyant niece?"

"I heard she's obsessed with him. So embarrassing."

She ignored them, her eyes locked on the tall figure standing by the bar. Liam looked perfect in his tailored suit, his expression cool and distant as he spoke to a colleague.

"Liam," she said, her voice a little too loud.

He turned, and the hint of warmth in his eyes vanished when he saw her. "Ava. What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you," she said, holding out a small, wrapped box. "I got you something."

It was a tie, one she had spent weeks painting by hand with a subtle, intricate design she knew he' d appreciate if he just looked.

He didn't even glance at it. "I don't need it."

"Just take it," she pleaded, pushing it toward his chest.

His hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. His grip was firm, his voice low and sharp. "Stop making a scene."

Later, she waited by his car in the cold parking garage. She knew he would have to come this way. When he finally appeared, his face tightened with annoyance.

"Ava, go home."

"Give me a ride," she said, blocking his path to the driver's side door. "Please."

He looked around, probably worried someone would see them. With a frustrated sigh, he unlocked the doors. "Get in."

The ride was silent. The space felt charged with everything she wanted to say and everything he refused to hear. She wanted to scream, to tell him she was dying, that she loved him, that she had always loved him. But the words were stuck in her throat, choked by his icy indifference.

He pulled the car over several blocks from her apartment building. "This is as far as I go."

"Liam..."

"Listen to me," he said, turning to face her fully for the first time that night. His eyes were hard. "We need to stop this. Don't come to my office. Don't show up at my events. Stay away from me." He leaned over, opened her door, and said, "Get out."

The cold air hit her as she stumbled onto the sidewalk. He didn't wait to see if she was steady. The car just sped away, leaving her alone in the dark.

She walked the rest of the way home, each of his words a heavy step. When she opened the door to the small apartment, her stepmother, Martha Jenkins, was waiting for her.

A sharp slap cracked across her face, sending her reeling.

"Where have you been, you little slut?" Martha sneered, her eyes filled with hate. "Out chasing your uncle again?"

Before Ava could answer, Martha shoved a thick, cream-colored envelope into her chest. It was an engagement announcement.

"Your precious uncle is getting married," Martha said, her voice dripping with malicious glee. "To my daughter. To Chloe."