Ava arrived at Easton earlier than usual. The city was still waking up, headlights bouncing off wet pavement, coffee shops just unlocking their doors. She liked it this way—quiet, still, hers.
Her heels clicked softly against the marble floor as she walked through the lobby, the familiar rhythm giving her focus. She passed the front desk without stopping, her mind already ten steps ahead.
Something had changed in her.
Not overnight, not just because of the kiss with Damien or the confrontation with Julian.
It was everything.
All the cracks were still there—her grief, her confusion, the weight of betrayal—but they were no longer breaking her apart. They were letting light in.
She wasn't here to figure out who she used to be anymore.
She was here to become someone new.
When she stepped into her office, Marla was already at her desk, typing fast.
"You're early," Marla said with a smile.
"So are you."
"I have three new meeting requests, and Carmen left a note. She wants to talk about the upcoming interview series."
Ava nodded. "Push all non-urgent meetings to next week."
Marla blinked. "All of them?"
"Yes," Ava said. "Something bigger's coming. And I want space to breathe when it hits."
Marla didn't ask what she meant.
She just said, "Done."
By mid-morning, Ava was in the media suite, reviewing Easton's next quarter plans with the executive team. She didn't miss a beat, didn't flinch under pressure. But somewhere in the back of her mind, she was still holding onto the night before—the way Damien had shown her the study, the way he'd stood beside her in silence, offering peace instead of power.
It was the first time someone had seen her fully and hadn't tried to fix her.
Just... stayed.
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced down: Unknown Number.
Message:
"He doesn't tell you everything, Ava. But I do."
There was no name. Just an address. Midtown. A corner she vaguely recognized. She narrowed her eyes and locked her phone.
She had meetings to finish. Priorities.
But hours later, when the sky darkened and the weight of her thoughts returned, she found herself in a black coat and scarf, walking through the wind toward that address.
It was a bookstore.
Not sleek. Not new. One of those places with wooden shelves and slow jazz and the smell of dust and paper.
She stepped inside.
A man in his early thirties looked up from the counter. He wore glasses, jeans, and a black sweater. Nothing about him screamed "Blackwood," but his eyes...
They were Damien's.
She stared at him, unmoving.
He smiled faintly.
"You're Ava Sinclair."
She nodded slowly. "And you're...?"
"Gabriel."
He stood, stepped out from behind the counter.
"Damien's half-brother."
Ava felt the breath catch in her chest.
He extended a hand. She shook it, slowly.
"I'm not here to stir trouble," Gabriel said. "But I thought it was time someone told you the part Damien won't."
She crossed her arms. "What part?"
Gabriel walked toward the back of the store. "Come on. It's warmer there."
She followed.
They sat in mismatched chairs near an old fireplace. A kettle whistled in the background.
Gabriel poured tea for both of them without asking if she wanted any.
Then he began.
"My father was... complicated. Cold. Like Damien, I guess. But different too. Damien was always the favorite—heir to the company, the one groomed for greatness. I was the quiet one. The one they didn't talk about in the papers."
Ava listened, silent.
"I know about your father," Gabriel said. "What happened. I know Damien tried to help him, and I also know Damien blames himself more than anyone ever will."
Ava didn't speak.
Gabriel sipped his tea.
"But there's something Damien didn't tell you—something he never talks about."
She leaned forward. "What?"
Gabriel met her eyes. "The deal your father proposed wasn't just a merger. It involved Blackwood Holdings restructuring completely. If Damien had gone through with it... he would've lost control."
Ava froze.
"He made a choice," Gabriel said gently. "To protect what he built. To protect the company. But part of that choice meant letting your father fall."
Her voice came low. "So he didn't just fail to save him."
"No," Gabriel said. "He stepped back. And then tried to make it right when it was already too late."
The words hit like a cold wind.
Not because she hadn't suspected.
But because hearing it from someone who had no reason to lie made it real.
"You still trust him?" Gabriel asked.
Ava didn't answer.
He smiled a little. "That's the thing about Damien. He pulls you in, even when you want to run."
"I'm not running anymore."
"I didn't say you were," Gabriel said. "But you're standing in the middle of a war you don't fully see yet. Be careful where you aim your loyalty."
When Ava returned home that night, she didn't turn on the lights.
She sat on the edge of her bed and stared out at the window, her mind filled with too many voices.
Julian's heartbreak.
Damien's silence.
Gabriel's warning.
She pulled off her heels slowly, then reached for her phone.
One unread message from Damien.
"You made today easier just by existing. I don't expect anything from you. I just want you to know that."
She stared at it for a long time.
Then typed back.
"There's something I need to ask you tomorrow."
She hit send.
Then turned off the screen.
Tomorrow would come.
And she wasn't sure what version of Damien she'd find when she asked him the question that was now burning in her chest:
Why did you really let my father fall?
Because the answer might change everything.
Again.