From Mafia Pawn To The Don's Queen

Ava POV:

My phone vibrated against my palm.

One minute.

That's how long it took for my world to shift on its axis.

Asset secure. Ghost transfer initiated. ETA to London airspace: 4 hours.

The message was from Ethan Russo.

The Don of the London Syndicate.

The man Liam called a "monster."

The man who was now my only salvation.

I let out a breath I felt like I'd been holding for three years.

My mother was safe.

Liam's leverage was gone.

I walked out of the study, my heels clicking a sharp staccato on the marble floor of the Valenti estate.

I didn't head for the exit.

I headed for the penthouse elevator.

I had unfinished business.

The elevator doors slid open directly into the living room.

The air smelled like her.

Chloe's cloying vanilla perfume hung heavy in the air, choking out the scent of the expensive leather furniture.

They were there.

Liam was pouring a drink at the wet bar.

Chloe was lounging on the sofa, scrolling through her phone with an air of practiced boredom.

She looked up as I entered, a smirk curling her lips.

"Did you handle it?" she asked, her voice high and grating. "Liam said you were taking care of those boring accounting errors for me."

"I handled it," I said.

I walked over to the coffee table and dropped a folder on top of her fashion magazine.

"What's this?" Chloe asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Read it," I said.

Liam turned around, crystal glass in hand. "Ava, I told you to go home and wait for my instructions."

"I am home," I said. "Or I was."

Chloe flipped opened the folder.

Her eyes widened.

"Termination of Alliance?" she read aloud. "What is this joke?"

"It's the end of the engagement," I said, looking directly at Liam. "And the end of my legal representation."

Liam laughed.

It was a dark, arrogant sound.

"You can't end it, Ava. You signed the pre-nup. If you walk away, you leave with nothing. The Valenti assets, the house, your trust fund-it all stays with me."

I started to laugh.

It bubbled up from my chest, hysterical and sharp.

"Oh, Liam," I said, wiping a mirthless tear from my eye. "You really think I didn't know?"

He frowned. "Know what?"

I looked at Chloe. "Tell him, Chloe. Tell him about the pre-nup."

Chloe looked confused. "It's ironclad. Liam said so."

"It's a forgery," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "I drafted the original. Liam swapped the pages three years ago. He thought I wouldn't notice the difference in the paper grain. He thought I was stupid."

Liam's face went pale.

"I have no claim to your assets," I said, stepping closer to him. "But you have no claim to me. The contract is void. I am not your property."

I walked past him into the master bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Liam demanded, following me.

I threw open the walk-in closet.

Rows of his bespoke Italian suits hung there.

Suits I had picked out.

Suits paid for with money I had laundered.

I grabbed a pair of shears from the vanity.

"Ava!" Liam shouted.

I drove the scissors into the fabric of his favorite navy Armani.

Snip.

The sound was satisfying.

"Stop it!" Chloe shrieked from the doorway.

I ripped the sleeve off.

I grabbed his collection of Patek Philippe watches from the dresser and swept them onto the hardwood floor.

Glass shattered.

Metal crunched.

It was the sound of my loyalty breaking.

"You're insane!" Liam yelled, grabbing my wrist.

His grip was bruising.

"I'm free," I spat back, wrenching my arm away.

I grabbed the velvet box sitting on the nightstand.

The Cartier necklace he had bought for my birthday but never gave me.

I walked to the open balcony door.

"Don't," Liam warned. "That's worth fifty thousand."

I threw it.

It glittered in the afternoon sun before disappearing into the chaotic traffic of Manhattan below.

I turned back to them.

Chloe was holding a manila envelope.

She looked terrified, but her eyes were gleaming with malice.

"You think you're better than me?" she hissed. "Look at this."

She dumped the contents of the envelope onto the bed.

Photos.

Dozens of them.

Liam and Chloe.

In this bed.

In my kitchen.

On my desk at the law firm.

They were recent.

Dated from last week.

When I was at the hospital sitting by my mother's bedside, praying she wouldn't die, they were fucking in my house.

I looked at Liam.

He didn't look ashamed.

He looked annoyed that he'd been caught, like a child with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Men have needs, Ava," he said, shrugging. "You were always so... distracted."

Something inside me finally snapped.

The last tether.

"You're right," I said softly. "I was distracted. I was distracted by keeping you out of prison."

I walked to the door.

My stomach churned violently.

"Where are you going?" Liam asked. "We have a dinner with the Commission tonight."

"I'm going to throw up," I said.

I walked out of the penthouse.

I made it to the stairwell before my knees gave out.

I retched onto the concrete floor, emptying my stomach of the bile and the lies.

From behind the heavy door, I could hear them.

Chloe was giggling.

Liam was laughing.

They thought I was broken.

They thought I was just throwing a tantrum.

I wiped my mouth and stood up.

Let them laugh.

I was about to burn their whole world down.