Chapter 84

Chapter 84
But then again, it’s not like Ava to ignore what I say. She might be independent, stubborn, and lazy sometimes, but she would never take her safety less than seriously, knowing how much we both have lost because of tiny mistakes like this.

And that thought alone—the thought of Ava not forgetting, but… something happening to her—makes something deep in my stomach clench. My heart starts to pound too fiercely, and my hand shakes a little as I exchange a glance with Max and push the door open.

The door swings open with a slow, eerie creak, revealing the dimly lit interior of my penthouse. Everything looks the same at first glance—the furniture is untouched, the curtains are drawn, and the faint scent of Ava’s perfume still lingers in the air.

But something feels off.

Max must sense it too because he stiffens beside me. “Ava?” he calls out, his voice sharper than before.

No answer.

I step inside first, my pulse hammering in my ears. “Ava?” I try again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

Max brushes past me, his movements more frantic now as he strides toward the living room. I hear him curse under his breath.

Then I see it too.

\--------------------

I give myself only two seconds to take in everything before I decide someone is going to pay with their life for this.

I rush to Ava’s side, my body working solely on autopilot as I pick her up from the hard, cold floor and put her down on the couch.

Max appears with a blanket that I’m not sure where he got from, or maybe I don’t care enough to worry about something so unnecessary right now. Not when Ava looks like this.

Bruised. Naked. Unconscious.

“I’ll call the doctor,” Max says hurriedly, rushing over to the balcony as if that would make everything any less painful and shocking.

My vision blurs as I run my fingers through her hair, take her hand in mine, and realize how cold it is. Frantically, I search for the remote and turn up the air conditioner’s temperature.

On my way, I grab another blanket from the closet and cover her with that too.

“You’re going to be okay.” I wipe my face with the back of my hand, barely able to suppress the need to scream and punch someone to death. “You have to be okay. And you have to tell me everything. I’m waiting on you.”

Ten minutes later, Max runs past me and returns with a doctor on his heels.

I stand up and move to the side, never taking my eyes off her.

My feet shuffle against the floor, my heart feeling like it’s about to explode if literally anything happens to her.

When the doctor is done with the checkup, he turns to us but looks rather glum. “She’s fine now. But if we’d been any later, she could have developed hypothermia. She must have been exposed to the cold for a long time. And judging by the bruises on her body, it looks like she was tortured. However, I don’t see any signs of assault.”

I should find relief in knowing that. But I don’t. I hate that it came to this anyway. That someone was bold enough to walk into my home and do this to her.

“Why is she still unconscious?” I ask, my heart racing.

“She’s in shock. She’ll wake up after a while. But if she doesn’t, feel free to call me anytime.”

When Max walks the doctor out, I kneel down and take Ava’s cold, fragile hands in mine.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen.

But it did.

Someone walked into my home and dared to lay a hand on her.

Her. The woman I have come to love more than myself. The woman without whom I can’t picture this life anymore.

Pure, liquid rage pulses through my veins. Before I know what I’m doing, I grab my phone and call the woman I never thought I would ever contact.

She picks up in the second ring.

“And here I was, under the impression that you got rid of my contact number ages ago.”

I ignore the sarcasm. “I need your help.”

“Well, that’s new.” She says, but doesn’t refuse. “But why should I help you? It’s not like we parted on good terms.”

I don’t think, not even for a moment. “I’ll agree to your condition.”

That gets her attention. “Really? What do you want?”

“A name.”

\--

\[MAX\]

I walk the doctor out, waiting for the elevator doors to open.

When the elevator finally arrives, the doctor turns to me.

He looks worried. "You should report this to the police."

I give him a nod. "We'll handle it."

The doctor hesitates, then shrugs and steps inside. The doors slide shut.

As I turn back to the apartment, the calm I've been faking shatters like glass. My hands are shaking. My legs feel weak. I can still see the image of her on the floor. Small. Broken. Left for dead.

On the way here, Brian told me everything that had happened in the last few days.

The threats. The attack. Sean’s situation at the hospital.

It almost felt surreal to know so much had happened without me even realizing it. But it felt even worse to know that I was the last one to find out.

Why the hell didn’t Ava tell me? Why the hell did she trust others more than her own brother?

I wondered if things would have been different if I had known everything from the start. If it had been me with Ava—not Sean—at the time of the attack. Was it possible the outcome would have changed if I had been the one protecting her? Was it possible this day could have been avoided if she hadn’t had to face it all alone?

I walk back inside to see Brian kneeling by the couch, holding her hand.

He hasn't cried. Not in front of me. But his face is a mask of pure, unadulterated rage. The kind of rage that doesn't burn, it freezes. The kind of rage that builds empires and burns cities to the ground.

I know that look. I've seen it before.

And I know that whoever did this, whoever was stupid enough to touch her, they're not just going to die. They're going to wish they had.

"We need to find out who did this," I say, my voice barely a whisper.

Brian doesn't look up. His gaze is locked on her face.

"I will." His voice is quiet, but it's not a statement. It's a promise. A verdict. 

He lets go of her hand, stands up, and walks over to the window. He looks out at the city lights, but I know he's not seeing them. He's seeing revenge.

And so am I.