The Hero Saves the Beauty

Sophia was caught off guard. Slaps landed across her face, leaving her stunned.

Her cheeks burned, her ears rang, and stars danced in her vision.

No one had ever dared to hit her like this.

Fury flared inside her. She grabbed the attacker's arm and clawed at it like a wildcat.

They grappled, stumbling across the floor.

The driver, who had been lurking in the corner, rushed forward and pried them apart with all his strength.

That's when Sophia finally saw who had hit her—Liam's sister, Grace. She froze.

Ava, equally shocked, quickly stepped between them, shielding Grace.

She caught a glimpse of Grace's wrist—scratched, bleeding. Her heart clenched.

Pulling out a bandage from her purse, she carefully pressed it over the wound. "Does it hurt?"

Grace hissed at the sting but smirked. "I'm fine, sis. Did she get your face?"

Ava shook her head. "No."

Grace shot Sophia a look of pure disdain. "People like her? No need for politeness. Just hit back. Reasoning? That's for decent people. She doesn't qualify."

Sophia trembled with rage.

She forced out a few tears and whimpered, "Grace, we grew up together. We were so close—I've always thought of you as a sister. How could you do this to me?"

Grace rolled her eyes. "Give me a break. I don't need a 'sister' like you. My brother treated you like a queen, and my whole family spoiled you. Then the second he hit a rough patch, you bolted. Now he's back on his feet, and here you are again, clinging to him and messing with my sister-in-law. Have some self-respect."

Sophia's face twisted. "You don't understand—"

"Cut the crap. My brother might buy your sob story. I don't."

Ava's phone rang.

She glanced down. Liam.

After a second's hesitation, she answered.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"The restaurant across from the Met."

"I'm close. Be there in three." He hung up.

Ava's mind flashed back to last night—Liam with Sophia.

Her chest tightened.

The white roses on the table caught her eye.

Liam had given them to Sophia.

A few minutes later, Liam walked in.

Tall. Suit sharp. Features chiseled. Skin flawless.

The kind of man people couldn't help but stare at.

The restaurant, which had been buzzing with the aftermath of the fight, fell silent.

Sophia's eyes lit up. She rushed over. "Liam!"

Liam's gaze flicked over her. "What are you doing here?"

Tears welled in Sophia's eyes. "I came to explain what happened last night to Ava, but she started yelling at me, and then Grace hit me."

She touched her swollen cheek. "It really hurts…"

Liam turned to Ava. "That true?"

Ava let out a quiet laugh.

So this was the woman he cared about? A liar.

Some people really did get to go through life without consequences.

Before she could answer, Grace cut in. "Think about it, Liam. Ava's the calmest person ever. Would she blow up for no reason? For two years, she put up with your mood swings without complaining. I hit Sophia because she went for Ava's face. Should've hit her harder."

Liam's expression darkened. He turned to Sophia. "What did you do?"

Sophia's face went pale. "Nothing! They misunderstood—Liam, you have to believe me."

She reached for his arm, trying to press close.

Grace yanked her back. "Are you serious? He's married, and you're still throwing yourself at him? Have some dignity."

Sophia gasped like she'd been stabbed in the heart. Tears streamed down her face.

Liam sighed. "Grace, enough. Sophia has severe depression. Don't push her."

Grace snorted. "Oh, please. Don't use mental illness as an excuse. I know people with depression—they're good people. She's just a manipulative mess."

Sophia turned and ran from the restaurant, sobbing.

The driver grabbed her bag, paid the bill, and followed.

Liam glanced at his security detail. "Go after her. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."

One of the guards nodded. "Yes, Mr. Carter." He slipped out the door.

Grace crossed her arms. "If she really wanted to die, she wouldn't be making a public scene about it. Drama queen."

Liam's jaw tightened. "Grace, that's enough."

Ava stepped in. "If you're mad, take it out on me. Grace was just defending me."

Liam's eyes softened slightly.

He pulled a small tube from his pocket and handed it to her. "Scar cream. Had someone find it for you. Use it properly, so it doesn't leave a mark."

Ava stared at the tube, unsure what to feel.

Liam didn't love her. She knew that.

But sometimes, just sometimes, he acted like he cared.

She let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

If he really cared, would last night have happened?

Would she even have the courage to ask?

Grace snatched the cream and shoved it into Ava's hand. She glared at Liam. "If you ever hurt her, I swear I'll cut you off."

Liam was unfazed. "This is between adults. Stay out of it."

"I'm only a year younger than Ava. I'm not a kid."

Liam ignored her, turning to Ava. "Have you eaten? If not, let's get something good."

Ava pulled her hand away. "I'm good."

Liam studied her, his voice softer. "Last night was a misunderstanding. You don't believe me?"

Ava met his gaze, her tone even, detached. "I just walked into the wrong place. Sorry for the interruption."

Liam let out a quiet laugh. "Alright. Let me drive you home."

Ava grabbed her bag and walked out without looking back.

Liam strode after Ava, his assistant trailing far behind. 

After leaving the restaurant, they passed by a flower shop. Ava pushed open the door and walked in. 

She looked around and pointed at a bunch of white roses. "I'll take a bunch of these." 

The clerk asked, "How many do you want?" 

Thinking about the twenty white roses Liam had sent Sophia, Ava stubbornly said, "Two hundred." 

The clerk froze for a moment, then nodded. "No problem. Just a sec." 

The wait felt like forever, but when the roses were finally all wrapped up, Ava understood why the clerk had been surprised. 

Two hundred roses bundled together were enormous and ridiculously heavy. 

She struggled to hold them, but deep down, she felt satisfied. She could buy her own flowers—why wait for someone else? She could afford it. 

Liam took out his card to pay, but Ava pushed his hand back, her tone firm. "I got this." 

She said it with such conviction that there was no room for argument. 

This was money she had earned herself. 

Liam just smiled, knowing full well that she was fuming. 

After paying, Ava walked out with the enormous bouquet in her arms. 

The sheer size of the flowers made her look even smaller, like a delicate little blossom, yet one with a backbone. 

Liam reached out to take the flowers. 

Ava stepped aside, dodging him, letting his hand grasp nothing but air. 

Liam's hand hung there for a moment before he slowly pulled it back. 

They walked side by side. 

Liam glanced at the absurdly large bouquet in her arms and asked, "So, you're into white roses now?" 

"Not really." 

"Then why'd you buy so many?" 

"Just felt like it." 

A small smile played on Liam's lips. "I always thought you weren't a flower person. More into oil paintings." 

"I'm a girl, you know." 

Liam was used to seeing her soft and gentle, but this was the first time he'd seen her all puffed up with anger. He actually found it kind of cute. 

"So, what flowers do you like? I'll get them for you next time." 

Ava pressed her lips together and didn't answer. 

She had grown up on a farm, near a stretch of woodland, and she had always loved the wildflowers she saw everywhere—like dandelions, or the little blossoms they planted in front of the house. 

She had a soft spot for those simple yet resilient flowers, but the delicate, extravagant roses in her arms didn't stir her at all. 

Buying so many was just her way of acting out. 

As they neared the Met, Ava suddenly stopped and said, "You don't need to walk me in." 

Liam raised an eyebrow. "Afraid your coworkers will see me?" 

"Aren't we getting divorced soon anyway?" Her voice wavered slightly, and her heart pounded. 

This ambiguous, in-between situation was unbearable—like a slow burn that wouldn't stop. 

Liam was silent for a moment, then finally halted and simply watched as she walked away, his gaze as deep as the ocean. 

When Ava reached the entrance of the art gallery, she ran into Ethan, the young owner. 

Ethan grinned and teased, "Whoa, that's a massive bouquet. Your man sent it?" 

"No, I bought it myself." 

Ethan's smile widened. "That must be heavy. Let me carry it for you." 

Ava smiled and handed him the flowers. "Thanks." 

Ethan joked, "You're our gallery's star. Carrying a few flowers for you is nothing." 

"Ethan, stop teasing me." 

The two walked into the shop, chatting and laughing. 

From a distance, Liam stood tall and composed, but his eyes turned cold, laced with jealousy. 

He couldn't quite put his finger on what he was feeling. 

It was like something precious he had cared for over the past five years was suddenly being eyed by someone else. 

Almost instinctively, he wanted to drive that person away. 

That was when he realized—he wasn't nearly as indifferent as he had thought. 

Liam ran his tongue over his teeth and instructed his assistant in a low voice, "Find out everything about that guy." 

The assistant nodded. "Got it, Mr. Carter." 

They got in the car and headed back to the office. 

Half an hour later, the assistant answered a call and reported to Liam, "Mr. Carter, his name is Ethan. He's a doctor, and the gallery was passed down from his grandfather. He and Mrs. Carter were in contact five years ago." 

Liam looked up, his eyes cold as ice. "Find out if they knew each other as kids."