Chapter 2 2

Ethan was largely absent during my recovery. A proxy caregiver, a polite but distant woman from a private nursing agency, attended to my needs.

He finally appeared on the day of my discharge, a whirlwind of forced cheerfulness and apologies.

"So sorry I've been swamped, Ava. Big deals closing. But I have a surprise for you. Something to make up for all this."

He didn't drive me back to our penthouse. Instead, the car headed east, towards the Hamptons.

I was too weary to question, too numb to care.

He led me into a lavish estate, music drifting from the open doors.

Inside, a crowd of faces I vaguely recognized – Ethan's business associates, society acquaintances – turned towards us.

"Surprise!" they chorused.

Ethan beamed, pulling me to the center of the room.

"Ava, my love," he began, dropping to one knee, producing a velvet box. "These past few weeks have shown me how precious life is, how much you mean to me."

He opened the box. A diamond, ostentatiously large, glittered coldly under the chandelier light.

This was the moment I had once dreamed of, a moment now rendered a grotesque mockery.

Before he could utter the question, a piercing shriek echoed through the mansion as the fire alarm blared to life. The sprinklers kicked in, showering the panicked crowd in a cold, startling mist.

Ethan's proposal was forgotten. He shot to his feet, his eyes scanning the chaos, not for me, but for her.

"Chloe!" he yelled, pushing through the fleeing guests.

He found her near a side exit, looking pale and frightened. As he swept her into his arms to lead her away, Chloe's eyes met mine over his shoulder. She was being "rescued." In the frantic shuffle, a waiter stumbled, knocking a heavy serving table directly into my side. A sharp, searing pain exploded from my surgical scar as I crumpled to the slick marble floor. I looked down. A dark, crimson stain was already blooming on the silk of my dress.

Humiliation, hot and sharp, washed over me. Chloe shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph before letting her head fall weakly against Ethan's chest.

He hadn't even noticed.

Back in our shared penthouse, the silence was a physical weight.

I limped to the bathroom, my side throbbing with a fresh, fiery agony. The wound had reopened.

Methodically, I began to purge.

Photos of us, his gifts, the expensive clothes he'd liked me to wear.

My fingers brushed against a framed picture on my nightstand – a photo of us from years ago, after his comeback was secured. He was holding me, whispering something in my ear. I remembered his words, a solemn promise under a moonlit sky: "You saved me, Ava. I will protect you from everything, forever." A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

In the back of my closet, I found a small, sealed box. Inside were old bank statements, showing how I'd drained my life savings, my inheritance, to fund his initial recovery when Chloe had jetted off to Europe, unwilling to deal with a broken man.

My resignation from Reed Innovate was emailed the next morning.

Executive Vice President. Chief Strategy Officer. The architect of his corporate comeback.

Gone.

A few days later, my accounts were frozen. A sharp knock on the door wasn't bodyguards, but a process server. He handed me a thick envelope. It was a lawsuit from Reed Innovate, alleging breach of contract and intellectual property theft, seeking millions in damages. It was a sham, a legal bludgeon designed to crush me.

The phone rang. It was Ethan.

"Ava," he said, his voice cold and businesslike. "A messy situation. Chloe's had a relapse. Some clotting disorder from the stress of it all. She needs a blood transfusion. Your O-negative blood is a match."

My blood ran cold. "No," I said, my voice shaking with rage.

"I think you'll reconsider," he replied smoothly. "Drop the transfusion off at the clinic, and I'll have my lawyers drop this ridiculous lawsuit. Refuse, and I will spend the next ten years burying you in legal fees until you are bankrupt and unemployable. This is not a request. It's a settlement offer."

I was forced to go. Ethan was there, hovering over Chloe, who was lying in a hospital bed looking tragically pale. He didn't even glance at me, simply gesturing to a waiting nurse. "Get it done."

As the needle slid into my arm, my body still weak from the surgery, Chloe met my gaze from across the room. When Ethan's back was turned, her fragile mask dropped. A small, triumphant smile touched her lips.

"You lose," she mouthed silently.

Ethan, meanwhile, only had eyes for her. He stayed by her side, stroking her hair, whispering reassurances, completely oblivious to the violation taking place just a few feet away. My blood, my very life force, was being drained to sustain the woman who had orchestrated my ruin, at the command of the man I had once loved.

He left with her before the transfusion bag was even empty, leaving me dizzy and alone in the sterile white room.

That was the moment the last, foolish flicker of my heart for him was extinguished. Not by betrayal, but by force.