Chapter 1

The sound of twisting metal was the last thing Ava Reed remembered before the world went black. When she opened her eyes, the sharp, sterile smell of antiseptic filled her nose, and a dull, throbbing pain radiated from her side. A doctor stood over her, his face a mask of professional concern.

"You' re very lucky, Ms. Reed," he said, his voice calm. "A few broken ribs, a severe concussion, and some deep lacerations. You were in a serious accident."

Ava' s first thought was of her husband, Mark. She needed him. She fumbled for the nurse's call button, her hand shaking. "My phone," she rasped, her throat dry. "I need to call my husband."

A nurse kindly retrieved the cracked device from a plastic bag of her personal effects. Ava' s fingers trembled as she dialed Mark' s number, a number she knew better than her own. It rang, and rang, and then went to voicemail.

"Mark, it' s me," she said, her voice weak. "I... I was in an accident. I' m at City General. Please, come."

She tried again an hour later. Voicemail. And again. Voicemail. Panic began to claw at the edges of her drug-induced calm. Where was he? He was supposed to be at a tech conference, but he always answered her calls.

Meanwhile, across town, in a penthouse suite overlooking the city, Mark Thompson was not at a conference. He was laughing, a glass of champagne in his hand, as Chloe Davis, a social media influencer with millions of followers, posed for a selfie. Her body was pressed against his, her lips painted a perfect, glossy red. The room was filled with the scent of her expensive perfume, a stark contrast to the antiseptic smell of Ava' s hospital room.

"Your wife is going to see these pictures, you know," Chloe said, a playful pout on her lips as she reviewed the photo on her phone.

"Let her," Mark said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "She' s too busy managing the house and our son to care about what I do. She knows her place." He pulled Chloe closer, his mind completely empty of the woman who had sacrificed her own brilliant architectural career to build his.

Back in the stark white room, Ava' s desperation grew with each unanswered call. She had one last idea. Their son, Liam. He was sixteen, practically glued to his phone. He would know where his father was. She dialed his number, her heart aching with a mix of pain and hope.

The phone picked up on the second ring. "What?" Liam' s voice was cold, impatient.

"Liam, honey, it' s Mom." Relief washed over her. "I can' t reach your father. Can you please tell him I' m in the hospital? I was in a car accident."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Ava could hear the faint sound of music and laughter in the background. It sounded like a party.

"A car accident?" Liam scoffed, his tone dripping with disbelief. "Is that your new strategy to get Dad' s attention? He' s busy, Mom. He' s with Chloe, closing a big deal. He doesn' t have time for your drama."

The name hit Ava harder than the car had. Chloe. She had seen the name pop up on Mark' s phone, seen the glossy photos online. She had told herself it was nothing, a business acquaintance. But the way Liam said it, so casually, so cruelly, confirmed her deepest fear.

"Liam, I' m not lying," she pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. "I' m at City General. I' m hurt."

"Whatever," Liam said, his voice bored. "Stop calling and bothering us. You' re just embarrassing yourself."

Then came the click. He had hung up. A moment later, a notification popped up on her cracked screen. You have been blocked by this number.

The phone slipped from Ava' s numb fingers and clattered to the floor. The world around her seemed to fade away. The physical pain in her body was nothing compared to the profound, shattering agony in her heart. She had been betrayed. Not just by her husband, but by her own son. In that moment, something inside Ava Reed broke, but something else, something hard and resolute, began to form in its place.

Five days later, Ava was discharged from the hospital. The bruises on her body were beginning to fade, but the wound in her soul was still raw. She didn' t go home. Instead, she took a taxi to the office of the city' s most ruthless divorce attorney. With a calm, clear voice that surprised even herself, she laid out the facts and gave her instructions. She wanted everything she was entitled to, and she wanted it fast. She was leaving. Leaving Mark, leaving the life she had built, leaving the country.

When Mark finally returned home, expecting to find a contrite and worried wife, he found an empty house and an envelope on the kitchen island. His name was scrawled on the front in Ava' s familiar handwriting. Inside were divorce papers. He stared at them, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face, which quickly turned to disbelief, then a surge of anger. How dare she?

He stormed into Liam' s room. "Did you know about this?" he demanded, waving the papers.

Liam, who was playing a video game, barely glanced up. "About what? Mom being a drama queen again?"

"She' s divorcing me!" Mark yelled.

Liam finally paused his game, a look of irritation on his face. "So? Good. Now you can be with Chloe without her nagging all the time. The house is a mess, by the way. There' s no food in the fridge." He unpaused the game, the sounds of virtual gunfire filling the silent room.

Mark stared at his son, then at the divorce papers in his hand. For the first time, a sliver of unease pierced his armor of arrogance. The silence of the house felt wrong. The order she maintained, the meals she prepared, the thousand invisible things she did every day that made their lives run smoothly-he had taken them all for granted. Now, faced with the chaos of her absence, a cold dread began to settle in his stomach. He had made a terrible mistake. And he was just beginning to understand the price.