Hartwell Blue had previously served as collateral for the initial partnership.
This should have been part of Marianne’s legacy.
Instead, it had remained in Elijah’s safe for twenty-eight years, like a multifaceted confession.
It was now on Ava’s hand.
A public signal.
A legal touch.
A declaration of war.
Ava’s phone vibrated.
And then…
And then…
She ignored him.
Elie was looking at her. “You should look.”
“I know what it says.”
“You know what foreigners say. You don’t know what the guilty say.”
Ava picked up her phone.
Thirty-seven missed calls.
Ryan’s Twelve.
Eight of his lawyer.
Three from Bianca.
A message from Ryan’s mother, Patricia Mercer, who hadn’t called Ava once after her miscarriage.
Ava stared at that name.
Patricia.
Then a text appeared.
Patricia Mercer:
Take off that ring before you get killed.
Ava’s skin went cold.
She showed it to Elijah.
His expression remained unchanged.
That frightened him even more than if that had been the case.
“You expected that,” said Ava.
“I was expecting something.”
“From Patricia? »
“From all those who still believe that fear is less valuable than confession.”
Ava reread the text.
Before you get killed.
Not ruined.
Not prosecuted.
Killed.
The city car slowed down in front of the Hartwell Building, a limestone tower located near Bryant Park, with brass doors and security cameras concealed in the stone like watchful eyes.
Elijah’s office occupied the top two floors.
Ava had been there three times.
The first time, she was wearing jeans and had a folder of divorce papers she had bought at a pharmacy.
The receptionist had dismissed it as a delivery error.
Then Elijah himself stepped out of the private elevator and said, “Miss Hart is with me.”
After that, people behaved differently around her.
Children in need.
Careful.
Caution was sufficient.
This evening, two security guards opened the car doors.
Cold air rushed in.
Ava stepped onto the pavement, ring first, and camera flashes exploded all over the street.
Paparazzi.
Already.
One of them shouted, “Ava! Are you engaged to Elijah Hartwell?”
Another shouted, “Did Ryan Mercer conceal marital assets?”
“Is Bianca Vale pregnant?”
Ava stopped.
Just a second.
Bianca Vale.
Ava turned slightly.
The paparazzi flocked to the area.
“What did you say?” she asked.
The man with the camera blinked. “Bianca. Is she pregnant?”
Ava’s stomach tightened.
Elijah’s hand hovered near her elbow without touching it.
Ava looked at the photographer. “Why are you asking me this question?”
He smiled, smelling the blood. “A source in La Rue said Mercer was celebrating the birth of a child tonight.”
Snow was falling between them.
Little.
Sharp.
Endless.
Ava heard Ryan’s voice from inside the restaurant.
She really did come alone.
She heard Bianca’s whisper.
Poor little girl.
She heard Patricia’s text message.
Before you get killed.
A baby.
A public dinner.
A forced settlement.
A hidden asset trail.
A falsified document.
A ring worth ten million dollars.
Some parts have moved.
Not in place.
Into something worse.
Elijah’s voice was low beside her. “Inside, Ava.”
But Ava kept her eyes fixed on the photographer.
“Who told you that?”
He shrugged. “An anonymous tip. With a photo.”
He turned his camera screen towards her.
Blurry image.
Restaurant lighting.
Bianca’s hand on her stomach.
Ryan kisses him on the temple.
A caption written in the clean and impersonal language of a public relations intern.
A Mercer heir on the way: Ryan Mercer and Bianca Vale celebrate a new beginning.
Ava didn’t feel anything at first.
Then a strange calm spread through his body.
Not peace.
Something colder.
Ava looked at Elijah. “That’s why he needed me to sign tonight.”
Elie’s gaze hardened.
“Yes.”
The agreement included a morality clause.
A confidentiality clause.
A clause preventing Ava from making future claims against “her heirs, trusts, subsidiaries or entities related to her family”.
Family-related entities.
Ava had debated this sentence with her lawyer for two hours.
Ryan’s team refused to remove it.
Now she knew why.
If Bianca was pregnant, Ryan planned to transfer assets into a trust for the baby.
Untouchable.
Friendly.
Headline-proof.
The poor abandoned father protects his new family from a bitter ex-wife.
Mini-gain number four.
Ava almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
