An Heir's Ruined Masterpiece

The emotions I'd suppressed came rushing back, a suffocating tide. I looked around at the drafts and models of Julian that littered the studio, and I screamed, a raw, ragged sound.

I tore the drawings from the walls. I slammed the wax models to the floor and crushed them under my heel. I destroyed every design I had once poured my soul into, unleashing my fury in a wake of destruction.

Then I collapsed onto the floor and wept until I had no tears left.

Everything was ruined. Everything.

Only one sketch survived the purge—my favorite. It was framed and hung on the wall, forgotten in the blindness of my rage.

The drawing was of the first time I met Julian.

I reached out a trembling hand to touch the glass, but a phantom jolt of electricity shot up my ruined arm.

My face was still wet with tears as I froze, my hand hovering in the air.

So much for being strong.

...

Three days later, Julian found me at the victory party he was hosting for the port deal. His eyes burned with fury as he cornered me, demanding, "Why didn't you answer my calls? Do you have any idea what you missed? Do you know how important this was? Even if you're going to throw a fit, Ava, you need to pick your damn moment!"

His words were like hail, but they only bounced off the numbness in my chest.

There was so much I wanted to scream, but all that came out was a quiet, "Congratulations on the deal."

Julian's expression softened slightly. "You saw the news, then? I didn't see you there. You should have waited for me."

I hadn't seen any news. I had just guessed. With his resources, that port deal was a sure thing.

I gestured to the well-dressed guests mingling around us. "Look at them. The jewelry… it's beautiful, isn't it?"

A sad smile touched my lips. This was probably the last time I would ever step into a world like this. I watched the crowd, my eyes lingering on the glitter of a necklace or the sparkle of a bracelet on a woman’s wrist.

One of those pieces had been mine. My design.

Julian rubbed his temples and reached for my hand. "Ava, I know I've been neglecting you. I've been busy. But you know how important that port was. Stay tonight. Get dressed up, stay by my side."

"I'm busy," I replied, my gaze calm and steady on his. "Julian, let's end this."

He laughed, a short, humorless sound. "End this?" Then his voice softened to that gentle, unyielding tone he always used. "Be good, Ava. I'll take you home after the party, alright?"

I tilted my head, considering him for a moment. "No. We're over."

He tried to pull me into his arms, the familiar move that had always made me surrender.

But the moment his hand touched me, the horror of the crash flooded back. I screamed, shoving him away with all my strength.

Every head in the vicinity turned to stare.

The fragile composure I'd fought for shattered in an instant.

I crumpled to the floor, clutching my head. Resentment, agony, despair—everything I had swallowed for his sake came rushing back. My entire life's work had evaporated in a single night.

And I could have been saved. If I had reached the clinic just a few hours earlier; if he had answered my call; if he had just been patient enough to listen…

Julian froze, his shock palpable. He seemed afraid to take another step.

"Ava, it's me. It's me," he said cautiously, his usual arrogance gone. "What happened?"

It took every ounce of my will to pull myself together. I walked out of the banquet hall. Julian followed close behind. "I need to be alone," I said, my back to him.

Back in my small studio, I sat alone, my thoughts a tangled mess. One moment, I wanted to sob; the next, I felt nothing at all.

I thought I was over it, but one look at him made the grief raw all over again.

The studio was brightly lit. I'd started sleeping with the lights on; the darkness reminded me too much of that endless night, of the searing pain, of the one man I had reached for in my desperation being the one who had shattered my future.