Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Lila’s POV

The pot hissed softly as I poured the steaming noodles into a bowl, the aroma filling my tiny kitchen. I sprinkled the last bit of seasoning, grabbed a fork, and walked to the living room. For once, I was ready to enjoy a quiet meal after the chaos of the past few days. I hadn’t heard from Ava since yesterday, and although her silence bothered me, I tried convincing myself she was probably sleeping or too busy with Damien’s unpredictable schedules.

I curled into my sofa, balancing the bowl on my lap as I unlocked my phone.

Big mistake.

The first headline that assaulted my screen made my fork drop with a clatter.

“Gold Digger Exposed — Damien Blackwood’s Secret Mistress Revealed!”

I blinked.

Then blinked again.

I felt a cold shiver crawl down my spine.

A photo of Ava—my Ava—filled the screen. Her face was circled in red like she was a wanted criminal. The article beneath it was a sewer of lies and twisted half-truths, each sentence worse than the last.

“No… no, no, no,” I whispered, grabbing my phone with shaking fingers.

I scrolled down.

More photos. Documents. Headlines. Social media captions.

Some people were insulting her. Some were laughing. Others were acting like they knew the ‘real story.’

My stomach tightened painfully as I clicked on a live stream where a gossip reporter gleefully dissected Ava’s life.

“…a struggling event planner from a questionable background… living lavishly in Damien Blackwood’s home… sources say she seduced him for financial gain…”

The bowl on my lap almost tipped over.

“Ava? A gold digger? Are these people insane?!”

I slammed the phone onto the couch and grabbed my head with both hands. My breathing turned shallow. My heart felt like it was being dragged across a rough surface.

Someone did this.
Someone planned this.

Ava could make mistakes—plenty of mistakes—but she would never do something like this. She would rather die of hunger than use someone for money. She would rather work ten jobs than let a man carry her.

I picked up my phone again, hands trembling, and dialed her number.

Unavailable.

I tried again.

Still unavailable.

“That’s strange,” I muttered. “Why can’t I reach her?”

Then a terrifying thought hit me.

Damien.

What if he took her phone? He had that kind of controlling streak. That protective possessiveness that could swallow someone whole. And if he had her phone… then Ava had no way to defend herself. No way to reach anyone.

My chest tightened.

She must be going through hell right now.

I tried messaging her on WhatsApp. Nothing. I called again. Still nothing.

Then I tried Damien’s number, even though I didn’t like him very much.

No answer.

The helplessness was suffocating. I paced the living room, running my fingers through my hair.

“What do I do? What should I do? Think, Lila, think!”

A small part of me wanted to march straight to the Blackwood mansion and tear down their front door. But another part—the logical part—knew that security would never let me in. Besides, if the news was this loud, reporters were probably swarming the front gate like flies.

I paused mid-step.

Roselyn.

Ava’s mother.

My heart dropped to my feet.

If I was this shaken, how would an older, sick woman react? A woman with a weak heart, high blood pressure, and constant stress? A woman whose only daughter was now being bullied by millions of strangers?

What if she saw the news?

What if it sent her to the hospital?

Or worse?

“No. No way,” I breathed out, already grabbing my bag. “She can’t see this.”

Roselyn still had a small television. She spent most of her time flipping through channels, catching up on news and late-night shows. If she switched on the TV today, even accidentally, she would see Ava being torn apart. And that would break her.

I couldn’t let that happen.

I couldn’t help Ava right now. I had no access to her. But her mother—I could protect her. At least from this one thing.

I slipped on my sandals and snatched my car keys.

As I headed out the door, the city noise hit me instantly. Horns blaring, distant chatter, the faint hum of life going on even while my heart felt like it was collapsing inward. I unlocked my car and threw my bag into the passenger seat.

The entire drive to Roselyn’s house felt like an eternity.

I kept glancing at my phone at every red light, hoping for a miracle message from Ava.

Nothing.

Every radio station I flipped through seemed to be talking about Damien or his company. And every time I heard Damien’s name, a cold fury grew in me. I didn’t know what he planned to do about this mess, but he better act fast. Ava didn’t deserve this nightmare.

By the time I reached Roselyn’s neighborhood, my nerves were stretched thinner than a thread. Her apartment building looked as old and tired as always, the paint peeling from the walls, the front gate stubbornly squeaking as I pushed it open.

I ran up the stairs, skipping steps, my breath shaky.

Please let her sleep.
Please let the TV be off.
Please let her not have seen anything.

I reached her door and knocked.

“Roselyn?” I called softly, trying to steady my voice. “It’s me—Lila.”

For a moment, I heard nothing. Then the door opened a crack, and Roselyn peered out, smiling faintly.

“Lila, my dear,” she said with warmth. “I wasn’t expecting you today.”

I forced a smile, although my heart was still racing. “I just… wanted to check on you. And maybe spend some time together.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re always welcome.”

She opened the door fully, and my gaze immediately darted to the television.

Off.

Thank God.

I stepped inside.

The tiny living room still smelled faintly of herbal ointment and lavender. Roselyn moved slowly toward the sofa, holding her back the way she always did. I followed her, relief washing through me—until I noticed the remote on the armrest.

One click away.

One accidental press and everything could crumble.

I grabbed the remote before she could reach for it.

“Let me get us something to drink!” I said too quickly.

She gave me a curious look. “Are you alright, dear? You seem a bit… unsettled.”

I forced a laugh, placing the remote safely out of sight. “Just tired. Long morning.”

She nodded, and I headed for the kitchen, needing a second to breathe.

Leaning against the counter, I closed my eyes.

Ava… please be okay.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. I didn’t know how long we could hide this from Roselyn. But I knew one thing:

I wasn’t going to let her face this storm alone.

If I couldn’t save Ava right now…

Then I would save the one person Ava loved most.

Whatever it took.