Chapter 3: Cracks in the Facade

Ava had barely stepped into her penthouse before the silence wrapped around her like a second skin. The towering glass windows overlooked the glittering cityscape, a breathtaking view that once made her feel invincible. Now, it only felt… empty.

She set her handbag on the sleek marble counter and exhaled, shaking off the remnants of her dinner with Liam. He was hiding something—of that, she was certain. And Ava Sinclair did not appreciate being kept in the dark.

Her phone buzzed, breaking the quiet. A message from the firm.

"Case closed. You broke them in half. See you in the morning."

A smirk tugged at her lips. Of course, she had won. She always did. That was what Ava Sinclair did best—she dominated, she conquered, and she walked away before anyone could touch her.

She slid off her heels, flexing her sore toes, before heading to the bar. A glass of whiskey seemed appropriate. She poured the amber liquid with practiced ease, allowing the burn to settle in her chest as she leaned against the counter.

Then, her eyes flickered toward the framed photo tucked away on the bookshelf. She never meant to keep it, but somehow, it remained—untouched, collecting dust.

Her father, Brian Sinclair, stood in the center, his suit crisp, his smile confident. Next to him, her mother, Saira, stunning as always, but her expression… distant. And in front of them, two children—Ava, with her chin lifted, determined even at ten years old, and Liam, his boyish grin full of hope.

Ava scoffed and took another sip. Hope was for people who had the luxury of believing in things like love and stability. She had learned early on that those things didn't last. Not in the Sinclair household.

A sharp knock at the door startled her.

Her brows furrowed. It was past midnight. No one came to her apartment unannounced—not unless it was an emergency.

She placed her glass down and strode toward the door, unlocking it with precision. The sight that greeted her made her stomach tighten.

Liam.

His tie was loose, his normally pristine suit slightly wrinkled. But it was his eyes that concerned her. Something was wrong.

"Ava," he said, his voice quieter than usual.

She crossed her arms, masking her worry with impatience. "It's late, Liam. Whatever it is, it can wait."

He shook his head. "No, it can't."

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then, he sighed and stepped inside, running a hand through his hair. "I need to tell you something."

Ava shut the door, her spine rigid. She hated moments like these—moments that felt too raw, too human.

"Then tell me," she said, her voice even, controlled.

Liam hesitated, as if debating how much to say. Then, finally, he met her gaze.

"It's about Mom."

The air shifted. Ava's stomach clenched, but her expression remained unreadable. "What about her?"

Liam swallowed hard, his usually confident demeanor faltering. "I think she's back in the city. And I think… she's trying to find us."

Silence stretched between them, thick with ghosts of the past.

Ava's grip tightened against her forearm, her nails pressing into her skin. She had spent years burying her mother's absence, locking away the bitterness, the anger, the ache.

And now, just like that, the past was clawing its way back.

She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay composed. "You're sure?"

Liam nodded. "I got a call from someone who saw her. She's been asking about us. About you."

Ava turned away, walking toward the window. The city lights blurred as emotions she refused to name stirred inside her.

"I don't care what she wants," she finally said, voice cold. "She made her choice years ago."

Liam's jaw tightened. "Ava—"

"No." She turned back to him, eyes sharp as steel. "We don't owe her anything."

Liam studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a quiet sigh. "Maybe you don't. But I do."

Her lips parted slightly, but no words came. Liam had always been different from her—softer, more forgiving. A part of her envied him for that. Another part resented it.

Finally, he ran a hand through his hair and stepped back. "I just thought you should know."

Ava clenched her jaw but said nothing as he walked to the door. Before he left, he paused, glancing over his shoulder. "You're not as heartless as you think, Ava. No matter how much you try to be."

The door clicked shut, leaving her alone in the silence once more.

She turned back to the window, her reflection staring back at her, unreadable.

And for the first time in a long time, Ava wasn't sure if she liked what she saw.