Chapter 3

Avery's POV

Arthur drew a ragged breath. He looked at me, then glared down at Julian on the rug, finally letting his fist drop.

"Stay on your knees and think about what you've done!"

Spitting out the words, he turned on his heel and stormed up the grand staircase.

Eleanor rushed over immediately, taking my hands as tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Avery, we’ve wronged you so terribly," she wept, patting the back of my hand. "In my heart, you are the only daughter-in-law I will ever accept. I won't recognize anyone else."

I guided her to the sofa and whispered a few comforting words.

Once she settled, I stepped back toward Julian, kneeling down to check the cut on his cheek.

Julian violently slapped my hand away.

"Don't touch me." He snatched an ice pack off the table, pressing it against his swollen cheek, sneering at me. "Impressive, Avery. You sure know how to play my parents. What, you get dumped and decide to crawl back through them?"

I didn't bother defending myself.

Looking at his bruised face, my heart was as calm as stagnant water.

"If we're ending this, let's end it clean," I said, my voice flat and emotionless. "I want two things as severance."

Julian raised an eyebrow.

"The keys to the luxury downtown condo," I said, looking him dead in the eye, "and an exclusive VIP access band to the Apex Capital Annual Investor Gala."

Julian blinked, caught off guard.

"Why the hell do you want into that gala?"

"Just curious to see it."

Julian studied my face for a long, quiet moment before letting out a mocking laugh. He fished a set of brass keys from his pocket, tossed them onto the glass table, and typed a quick text on his phone.

"My assistant will drop the wristband off for you." He slammed the ice pack down. "God, you really are cold-blooded, aren't you?"

I picked up the keys and slipped them into my designer tote.

"We're no different."

I turned toward the door, but Julian suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind.

His grip was bruising, his fingers clamping tight around my bone.

"Answer me," his voice dropped to a low whisper, carrying a tremble I had never heard from him before. "These past three years... did you ever feel a single real thing for me?"

My back was turned to him. I didn't look over my shoulder.

His hand held mine in a vice grip, his heat searing through my skin.

For a split second, something almost spilled from my lips.

Instead, I wrenched my hand away, pulled open the heavy door, and walked out into the chilly air.

The moment the car door clicked shut, I sank back against the leather seat, shutting my eyes for what felt like hours.

Beyond the tinted windows, the wrought-iron gates of the Sterling estate loomed under the bright estate floodlights.

My mind drifted back to a rainy afternoon a year ago. Julian’s private firm had been surrounded by furious creditors. The lobby had been jammed with an angry mob, deafening shouts mingling with the sound of shattering glass.

I was four months pregnant then, clutching a thick stack of crucial financial documents he desperately needed.

I tried pushing through the frantic crowd, but someone shoved me hard from behind. I lost my footing and tumbled down the concrete steps.

My stomach slammed against the sharp edge of the stone. I can still feel that tearing agony to this day.

Lying on the pavement, I watched dark red blood soak through my white dress, pooling between my legs.

The mob kept screaming and fighting all around me. Nobody noticed.

I screamed for help, but my voice drowned in the roar of the crowd.

The baby was gone before the ambulance sirens even sounded.

I never told a soul.

When Julian eventually asked about the bruising, I just told him I took a clumsy fall on the stairs.

I didn't even ask him to come to the hospital.

I booked the appointments alone, signed the surgery consent forms with my own trembling hands, and lay in that sterile recovery ward for three whole days.

During those three days, Julian called twice—both times only asking if the paperwork had made it to his desk in time.

The morning I was discharged, I hailed a cab back to my empty apartment.

There wasn't a single scrap of food in the fridge. I sat curled up on the cold kitchen tiles until the sun went down.

It wasn't until the streetlamps flickered on outside that I realized my entire face was drenched in silent tears.

I opened my eyes, breathed in, and started the engine.

In the rearview mirror, the glittering lights of the Sterling mansion faded into the dark.