Chapter 150 Tires on the Driveway
“What do you mean there is no trace of his family?” Charles Hale growled at his men, slamming the glass of bourbon on the dining table so hard the amber liquid sloshed over the rim and stained the polished mahogany. A deep frown creased his slightly wrinkled face, carving lines that years of anger and control had already etched there.
He had landed in New York only a few hours ago after a long business trip to Japan. The moment his private jet touched down he’d expected updates—routine surveillance on Leroy’s worthless family, the poor wretches he’d ordered watched as leverage. Instead he walked into this.
One night.
One single fucking night.
And they were gone.
“How is that even possible?” Charles snarled, voice rising until it echoed off the high ceilings of the dining room. “They couldn’t have run. They’re poor wretches who can barely afford the house they’re squatting in. No money, no passports, no connections. They don’t even own a car that works.”
The two men standing before him shifted uncomfortably. One cleared his throat.
“We checked everywhere, sir. The house is empty but their clothes are still inside the apartment, and no sign of packing in a hurry. Just….like they vanished or something, The neighbors say they haven’t seen them in days. No flights, no bus tickets….Nothing.”
Charles paced the length of the table, hands clenched behind his back.
His mind raced.
Where would they have gone?
Who helped them?
He stopped mid-stride, eyes narrowing.
Avery.
His daughter was smart, too smart sometimes. Resourceful and defiant.
But he shook his head sharply.
No.
How? Avery didn’t have the kind of money or contacts to vanish an entire family overnight. She didn’t have safe houses, fake IDs, or people who could clean a trail that cleanly. She was a reckless girl with a temper and money….not a ghost.
Still…
The thought lingered.
Charles let out a vicious snarl.
“Keep searching,” he ordered, “Every shelter, every church, every halfway house in a hundred-mile radius. Check hospitals, women’s centers, even homeless camps. If they’re breathing, I want them found. And if you come back empty-handed again…”
He turned, eyes cold.
“You pay with your lives.”
The men swallowed visibly.
Charles dismissed them with a flick of his wrist.
They left without another word.
He paced alone now, slow circles around the long dining table.
Where did they go?
Who had the power to make a family disappear like smoke?
Not Avery or even Leitana.
It had to be someone bigger, je thought.
Someone with resources.
Someone who didn’t want them to be found.
Charles stopped.
His gaze drifted to the phone on the table.
A slow, dangerous smile curled his lips.
He lifted the device, thumb brushing the screen.
“It’s time,” he murmured to himself, voice soft and venomous, “to pay my daughters a visit.”
“Relax, Avery…” Leitana started, reaching out again.
Avery shrugged her hand off her shoulder and ran a frustrated hand through her hair. “What do you mean relax? That bastard of a father is on his way here and he’s going to find out that everything I told him was a lie.”
She paced two steps, then spun back. “Mom already refused to back me up. Once he steps through that door she’s going to tattle, tell him how you and Ravial are more in love than ever, how you’re expecting a baby, how happy you are. He’ll know I lied to keep him away and then he will definitely kill….”
She cut herself off, chest heaving, eyes glassy with panic.
Leitana glanced toward Ravial.
He lounged in the armchair across the room, his legs crossed at the ankle, one elbow on the armrest, chin resting on his fist. Completely expressionless. Like he was watching a mildly interesting documentary.
Leitana raised a brow at him.
A silent, very clear look: Say something.
Ravial arched one brow in return.
His look said, plain as day: Why?
Leitana’s eyes widened slightly. She could practically hear his flat, bored tone inside her head even though he hadn’t spoken.
Because she’s scared and because family matters to me.
Ravial gave the tiniest shrug, one shoulder lifting a fraction.
His expression didn’t change, but the message was loud: I don’t care.
Leitana pouted, her full bottom lip pushed out, brows drawn together.
Her glare said: That is mean.
Then she stared at Ravial with those big, pleading eyes that always managed to crack even his coldest walls.
He met her gaze without blinking. The look he gave her was pure, unfiltered indifference, head corked just slightly, one corner of his mouth barely twitching. It screamed: Why should I play nice with this woman?
Leitana narrowed her eyes right back. Her expression shifted to something sharper, more stubborn. Because I asked you to.
Ravial’s brow lifted a fraction higher. Still don’t care.
Leitana’s eyes narrowed playfully. You’re being difficult.
Ravial’s brow lifted higher. Am I?
She crossed her arms, her chin lifting defiantly If you don’t help her, I won’t let you touch me tonight.
His entire posture changed in an instant.
The lazy lounge disappeared. His shoulders squared, fingers flexing once against the armrest. Behind the blindfold, she could practically feel the heated flare in his stare.
Then slowly, one corner of his mouth curled.
Not a smile.
A warning.
His look said, crystal clear: You wouldn’t dare.
Leitana smirked, staring him down like she was ready to go to war.
Try me.
For a moment, the room felt ten degrees colder. Ravial didn’t move, but the air between them crackled. Avery glanced back and forth between them, confused, sensing the silent battle but having no idea what was being said.
Then Ravial exhaled, slow and controlled, the sound of a predator deciding the hunt wasn’t worth the mess.
He stood.
The movement was fluid, he smoothed the front of his shirt once, then looked directly at Avery.
“Avery.”
She startled so hard she almost fell off the couch. Her head snapped up, eyes wide. “What?”
He inclined his head slightly toward the sofa.
“Sit.”
She hesitated.
Ravial didn’t repeat himself.
She sat.
He remained standing, hands in pockets, posture relaxed but commanding.
Ravial’s voice came out calm, almost polite, terrifyingly polite. “Your father is coming and If you want to keep breathing the same air as my wife without me removing your lungs first, you will sit still, keep your mouth shut about anything that doesn’t serve the lie, and let me handle the conversation.”
Avery blinked, mouth opening, then closing. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be terrified or impressed.
“I do not care for you personally. You are impulsive, and occasionally stupid. But you belong to Leitana. Therefore you belong to me.”
Avery blinked rapidly.
Ravial’s mouth curved just the tiniest fraction.
“So when Charles Hale walks through that door, he will see exactly what I want him to see.”
He paused
“And if he pushes… if he raises his voice… or lays one finger on either of you…”
His voice dropped soft, almost intimate.
“…I will remove that finger. And then the hand. And then whatever else offends me. Slowly. In front of him. Until he understands that some things are not his to take.”
Leitana’s lips curved into a tiny, triumphant smile. She gave Ravial a quick, approving nod, Good boy, and he responded with the faintest roll of his eyes behind the blindfold. Only she would ever catch it.
Avery stared at him, her mouth slightly open.
Before anyone could say another word, a soft voice floated down from the staircase.
“I’m in.”
Everyone turned.
Alyssa stood halfway down the steps, one hand on the banister, the other resting lightly on her stomach as though steadying herself. She looked pale, but her chin was up, eyes clear for the first time in years.
“I’ll tell him whatever you need me to tell him,” she said quietly. “That Leitana and Ravial are… struggling. That the marriage is falling apart. Whatever keeps him from hurting anyone further.”
Avery stared at her mother like she’d grown a second head. “Mom….”
Alyssa shook her head once. “I’m done being his doormat. If lying to him protects my girls… then I’ll lie until my tongue bleeds.”
Leitana’s eyes softened. She stood, crossing to the bottom of the stairs and reaching up to squeeze her mother’s hand. “Thank you.”
Then….
The sound of tires crunching on the driveway cut through the room.