Chapter 75

Ava’s POV

I didn’t know how long I had been crying. Minutes… hours…

Who exactly is Vanessa?

I had met her only a handful of times. She always carried herself like royalty—chin high, shoulders straight, her perfect hair bouncing as she walked like the hallway belonged to her. She was beautiful, yes. But there was something else—something sharp and cold beneath her smile, something that made me shrink even before I understood why.

Now I know why.

She hated me.

And worse—she was powerful.

She could walk into Damien’s life whenever she pleased. She had a history with him, a closeness I could never compete with. They shared a past. She knew his friends, his mother, his world. I was a visitor. A temporary guest. A nameless nobody who somehow found herself in the orbit of a billionaire with more emotional bruises than he knew how to articulate.

My body shook again.

What if Damien believed her?

What if he looked at those headlines and thought they made sense? What if Elizabeth whispered something to him? What if Adrian added his own flavor of poison? What if Damien—angry, confused, frustrated—decided it was easier to believe the lies than to fight for me?

A fresh wave of tears rolled down my cheeks.

He had already been harsh last night, questioning why I listened to rumors. He was already annoyed, already tired. What if this scandal pushed him over the edge?

What if he threw me out?

My heart clenched painfully.

I didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was simple:

I cared about him more than I wanted to.

And now, I didn’t even know if he cared at all.

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my breathing… then another thought struck me so violently that I sat upright.

My mother.

The air left my lungs.

“Mom,” I whispered in horror. “Oh God… the news… the television… her health—”

My mother was fragile. She had been battling illness for years. A shock like this—a public scandal involving her only daughter—could destroy her. She wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t eat. She would worry until her blood pressure spiked.

I felt sick suddenly.

I scrambled off the bed, pacing my room like a trapped animal.

I needed to call Lila.

I needed to check on Mom.

I needed to hear someone’s voice—someone who wasn’t here, who wasn’t watching me through cold judgmental eyes, someone who actually loved me.

But I didn’t have my phone.

Damien still had it.

And leaving my room now was like stepping into a pit of snakes. Everyone knew the scandal by now. The guards. The maids. The staff. And they would all be whispering, staring, assuming the worst.

My legs started trembling.

I couldn’t let them see me like this.

I wiped my face with shaking hands, even though it was useless—my tears kept falling, hot and unstoppable.

“Think, Ava,” I whispered. “Think.”

My jotter.

I kept Lila’s number there.

If I could just get a phone… any phone… I could call her and hear her voice and know that my mother was okay.

But whose phone could I use?

Not the guards—they would tell Damien.

Not the maids—they would gossip.

Not Elizabeth—she would humiliate me.

Not Vanessa—she would record me crying and leak that too.

But then one name popped into my mind, bringing a small flicker of hope.

Sandra.

The chef.

Sandra had always been kind to me. Quiet, soft-spoken, gentle. She treated me like a person, not a nuisance. She often packed extra food for me and asked if I needed anything. She protected me in small ways without ever making it obvious.

Maybe—just maybe—she would help.

I swallowed hard, wiped my cheeks again, and approached the door. I cracked it open just a little, peeking into the hallway.

Empty.

Silent.

I took a breath and slipped out, closing the door softly behind me. Every step felt like walking across thin ice. I moved cautiously, listening for voices or footsteps.

The kitchen wasn’t far—but every shadow felt like it was watching me. Every sound made me flinch. I hugged the wall, praying no one would see me.

When I finally reached the kitchen door, my heartbeat was pounding so loudly I thought it might give me away.

I peeked inside.

Sandra was alone, chopping vegetables, humming quietly to herself.

“Sandra,” I whispered urgently.

She turned—and froze when she saw my swollen eyes and trembling hands.

“Oh my God… Ava.” She rushed to me immediately. “What happened? You look—”

“I need your phone,” I said quickly, my voice breaking. “Just for one call. Please. Please, Sandra, I beg you.”

She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t ask questions. She hurried to her small bag on the counter, pulled out her phone, and placed it gently into my hands.

“Go ahead,” she whispered. “Take your time.”

I nodded gratefully, already fumbling through my jotter in desperation. My tears blurred the ink, but after flipping several pages, I found it.

Lila’s number.

My fingers shook as I dialed.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three—

“Hello?” came Lila’s voice, soft, cautious.

My breath cracked. “Lila…”

“Ava?” She gasped loudly. “Ava, oh my God—are you okay? Are you safe? I’ve been trying to reach you but your phone—”

“I know,” I whispered, leaning against the counter for support. “I know. I—I saw the news. All of it. Lila, they’re destroying me.”

Her voice softened instantly. “I know, sweetheart. I know. But listen, listen to me—it’s not real. I don’t believe any of it. Someone did this to you.”

A choked sob left me.

“But my mom,” I whispered. “Lila, what if she saw—what if—”

“She didn’t,” Lila cut in firmly. “I’m with her right now.”

I froze.

“You’re… with her?”

“Yes. I rushed here the moment I saw the news. She hasn’t seen anything. I turned off her TV. She’s fine, Ava. She’s okay. I promise you.”

A rush of relief so intense it made my knees weak wash over me.

My mother was safe.

Lila was with her.

The one thing I feared most… didn’t happen.

I pressed a hand to my mouth as a flood of new tears poured down my face—this time from relief.

“Thank you,” I whispered brokenly. “Thank you, Lila. I—I don’t know what I would have done—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured me. “I’m staying with her. And I’ll stay until all this dies down. You’re not alone, Ava.”

Not alone.

The words wrapped around me like a warm blanket in the middle of a storm.

For the first time since morning… I felt like I could breathe.

I ended the call slowly, holding Sandra’s phone to my chest before handing it back.

“Thank you,” I whispered again.

Sandra squeezed my hand gently. “Whatever you need, I’m here.”

As I walked quietly back to my room, something inside me shifted.

The world was tearing me apart.

But Lila stood with me.

My mother was safe.

And I… I wasn’t done fighting.

Not yet.

The mansion could swallow me whole.

But it wouldn’t break me.

Not today.

Not ever.