Chapter 2 Chapter 2

The reply came in less than a minute.

"Consider it done, Ava. Medical jet is on standby at Teterboro. Send me the patient details. They can be airborne in three hours."

Relief washed over me, a fragile wave in an ocean of pain. Ethan was reliable. He was everything Liam was not.

"Details sent," I typed back. "I'll get her to the airport. The transfer needs to be seamless. No one can know."

"My team will handle it. Just get her there. What about you?"

I looked around the cold, opulent conference room, a cage Liam had built for me. "I have a few things to take care of first. I'll meet you in London in two days."

"Be safe, Ava."

I closed the app and took a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, I could breathe. I walked to the window, looking down at the city lights. This was my last night in this life. I would not look back.

I printed a fresh copy of our prenuptial agreement from my cloud storage. Then I printed a termination of engagement contract. Armed with the papers, I drove not to my apartment, but to Chloe's.

She opened the door with a triumphant smile, dressed in a silk robe, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"Ava. To what do I owe the pleasure?" Her eyes scanned me, taking in my disheveled state with unconcealed glee.

"I have something for Liam," I said, my voice flat. I held out the termination agreement. "Give this to him."

Her perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose. "Giving up so easily? I thought you had more fight in you."

"There's nothing left to fight for," I said. I looked her straight in the eye. "Enjoy being the other woman who finally gets the ring. It's a title that will follow you forever."

Her smile faltered. I had hit a nerve. Her entire identity was built on being a Preston, a society darling. The label of a home-wrecker was a stain she couldn't bear.

She laughed, a brittle, ugly sound. "Oh, you poor, naive thing. You still don't get it, do you?" She took a sip of her champagne. "There was never anything to fight for. The game was rigged from the start."

I stared at her, confused.

"That 'unbreakable' pre-nup Liam was so proud of?" she said, her voice dripping with venom. "The one that would have left you with nothing if you ever crossed him?"

She leaned in, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. "It's fake, Ava. Completely worthless. I had my family's lawyer draft a dummy version. Liam never even checked. He just assumed his power was absolute."

The floor seemed to drop out from under me. Fake. The entire two-year engagement, the power he held over me, the fear that had kept me trapped... it was all based on a lie. A cruel, elaborate joke.

"He knows," she added, watching my reaction with sadistic pleasure. "He's known for a year. He just enjoyed watching you squirm, thinking you were trapped."

I remembered the day we signed it. Liam had been so smug. He'd poured champagne, toasted to our future, to our "protection." He had held me close, whispering how much he loved me, how the document was just a formality to appease his family. It was all a performance. A lie.

A sound escaped my throat, a choked sob that turned into a wild, unhinged laugh. I laughed until tears streamed down my face, until my stomach hurt. It was all a lie. My love, my sacrifice, my pain. A lie.

Chloe watched me, her expression turning from triumph to unease. "Are you crazy?"

I stopped laughing. My eyes focused on her, cold and clear. "Thank you, Chloe. You've just given me the greatest gift of all."

I turned and walked away, leaving her standing in the doorway, confused and suddenly afraid. I drove back to the penthouse I had once called home. The air was thick with the ghost of our shared life. I walked from room to room.

I started in the living room. I took the framed photo of us from the mantelpiece, the one from our first anniversary, and smashed it against the marble fireplace. I tore his expensive suits from their hangers, letting them fall in a heap on the floor. I poured a bottle of his vintage Bordeaux over the white silk sheets of our bed.

I was systematically erasing him. I was performing a funeral for my dead love.

The front door opened. Liam walked in, stopping dead when he saw the chaos.

"Ava? What the hell are you doing?"

He was holding a small, clumsily wrapped gift. Chloe stood behind him, clutching a sleek, expensive-looking gift box from Cartier.

I looked at the mess around me, then back at him. "I'm holding a memorial service," I said, my voice eerily calm.

He frowned, not understanding. Chloe, however, looked nervous.

"Darling, we brought you a present," Liam said, trying to smooth things over. He held out the lumpy package. "To celebrate a new chapter."

I took the gift. It was a small, hand-painted jewelry box, the kind you find at a street fair. It was cheap. An afterthought. He used to spend hours picking out the perfect gifts for me. Now, this was all I was worth.

I looked at the Cartier box in Chloe's hands. The contrast was a slap in the face.

"Thank you," I said. I walked to the open window and dropped the box without a second glance. It fell thirty stories to the street below.

Liam's face tightened.

Chloe stepped forward, a fake, sweet smile on her face. "Ava, I have something for you too. A thank-you gift, for your... sacrifice."

She handed me a thick manila envelope.

Liam put his arm around her, pulling her close. "We should celebrate," he said, his eyes on me, challenging me. "Chloe did so well today." They were a united front, oblivious to the storm they had unleashed.

I opened the envelope.

Inside was a stack of photographs. Glossy, high-resolution photos. Liam and Chloe. In our bed. On our sofa. In the shower. The dates were stamped in the corners, spanning the last year and a half. Pictures of them tangled together, laughing, kissing, their bodies slick with sweat.

A wave of nausea hit me so hard I staggered. The air left my lungs. The cheap jewelry box, the canceled weddings, the constant excuses-it all clicked into place with sickening clarity.

I turned and ran, stumbling out of the penthouse, down the hallway to the emergency exit. I pushed the door open and collapsed onto the cold concrete of the stairwell landing, vomiting until my throat was raw and my body was empty.

From inside the apartment, I could hear them. Liam and Chloe, their voices rising in shared, triumphant laughter. It was the soundtrack to the end of my world.