Chapter 5 The Breaking Poi

The candle shop had never felt this quiet before.

It wasn't the peaceful kind of silence Avery usually found comforting-it was heavy. Like something was about to break.

Ever since that night at the charity event, her life had started to change. Her shop saw more customers than ever. People whispered her name. Some were curious. Others, judgmental. A few were downright cruel.

It wasn't just the review anymore.

Someone had posted photos of her online-out of context shots from the party. One headline read:

"Mystery Girl on Damien Wolfe's Arm – Social Climber or Secret Flame?"

Avery sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She hadn't asked for this attention. She didn't want it. Her life was simple, and she liked it that way.

But nothing was simple anymore.

Especially not when Damien Wolfe walked through her door again-unannounced, as always.

He looked different today. Less sharp. More... tense. His eyes scanned her face the moment he stepped inside.

"You okay?" he asked.

Avery folded her arms. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've seen the articles."

"Of course I have."

Silence hung in the air.

Damien took a slow breath. "Stacey is behind it."

Avery didn't act surprised. She had already guessed.

"What do you want me to do with that information?" she said, her voice cold.

"I want you to know I didn't ask for any of this."

She looked at him then. Really looked.

"You brought me into your world, Damien. You made me a target."

"I didn't expect this-"

"No, you just didn't think it would affect you." Her voice cracked slightly. "But I don't have your walls, or your money, or your name. I don't get to walk away untouched."

Damien's jaw tightened. His fingers curled into fists at his side.

"I'll fix it," he said.

"No, you won't," she replied. "Because people like Stacey don't stop when you ask them to. They stop when they get what they want."

Damien stared at her. Then quietly asked, "What does she want?"

"You," Avery said, without blinking.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, softly, Damien said, "She doesn't have me."

---

Meanwhile...

Stacey stood inside her penthouse, watching the city lights blink beneath her feet.

She held her phone tightly, scrolling through a series of images.

Avery.

Avery with Damien.

Avery smiling.

Avery looking up at him like he mattered.

Her grip tightened.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Damien was hers. They had grown up side by side. She knew him before the money, before the walls, before the empire. She had been patient. Loyal.

And now some candle girl was stealing what she had waited years to claim?

No.

She wouldn't allow it.

---

That Weekend

Avery was invited to set up a small booth at a business networking expo. Her brand had started to grow thanks to the publicity. She hated the spotlight, but she knew she couldn't run from it now.

She arrived early. Set up her candles. Smiled through the nerves.

But halfway through the day, something went wrong.

A group of people walked by, holding their noses and laughing.

She turned around-and froze.

Someone had switched the labels on her products. Her scent descriptions were all wrong. A soothing lavender candle now read: "Scent of Desperation." A vanilla blend was labeled: "Social Climber's Flame."

Avery's heart pounded.

This wasn't a mistake.

This was sabotage.

Humiliation swept through her like a cold wave.

She tried to fix it, pulling off the stickers as fast as she could, but the damage had been done. People had taken pictures. Some were already posting them online.

Her vision blurred.

Then she heard his voice.

"Avery."

She looked up.

Damien was standing there, fury written all over his face. He took one look at the booth, the labels, the crowd-and then he turned and walked away.

Avery's heart dropped.

Was he... leaving?

No. He was marching toward a woman in heels and a champagne dress.

Stacey.

---

In the hallway, backstage

"What did you do?" Damien hissed, cornering Stacey.

She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

"Don't play dumb."

"You're upset," she said gently, stepping closer. "You always get like this when someone tries to hurt your pride."

Damien's eyes narrowed. "You're not hurting me. You're hurting her."

"She's not one of us, Damien."

"She doesn't have to be."

"She's using you," Stacey snapped, the sweetness in her voice gone. "She saw your name and clung to it. You think this is love? You don't even know her."

Damien's voice turned cold. "And you think you do?"

Stacey's eyes flashed. "I know you. I've loved you for years. And I'm not going to let some orphan girl take what I waited my whole life for."

That word-orphan-hit him like a blade.

"I never promised you anything," he said slowly. "And whatever we had-whatever you thought we had-is over."

Stacey's face cracked. Her voice trembled. "You're choosing her?"

Damien stepped back.

"I'm choosing myself," he said. "And I don't want to be the man who lets people like you hurt someone like her."

---

Later That Night

Avery sat in her apartment, her booth closed early, her candles boxed away.

She had never felt this small before. Not even at the orphanage.

Back then, she was poor-but invisible.

Now, she was being watched, attacked, judged.

She didn't cry. But she was close.

Then someone knocked at her door.

She opened it-and found Damien standing there.

He didn't say anything at first. Just held out a box.

She took it. Inside were her candles-the real ones. Fixed. Organized. Protected.

"I made sure no one touched them again," he said quietly.

Avery swallowed hard.

"Why are you here?"

He looked at her-really looked.

"Because I was wrong," he said. "I should've protected you. I should've known Stacey would... I let you walk into my world without warning you how dark it can be."

"You don't owe me anything," she whispered.

"I know," he said. "But I'm not here because I owe you."

His voice softened. "I'm here because I want to be."

She stared at him, the flickering hallway light casting shadows on his face.

And for the first time... she saw the man beneath the armor.

Not the CEO.

Not the cold wolf.

Just... Damien.

Her breath caught.

"I don't know what this is," she said honestly.

"Neither do I," he replied.

And for now... that was enough.

They stood in the quiet, the tension thick between them.

Not touching.

Not kissing.

Just feeling.

Because sometimes, the strongest kind of fire burns in silence.