Chapter Ten: The End of the Storm
The boardroom of Wolfe Enterprises had never been this quiet.
Tension sat thick in the air as Ava walked in, head held high, dressed in navy — power, poise, and steel in every step. At the head of the table sat Damon, flanked by his legal team, his expression unreadable but eyes tracking only her.
Across the polished oak table sat Kyle Grant.
His presence was like poison — slicked-back hair, smug smirk, and a tailored suit that reeked of false confidence.
"You've come a long way, Ava," Kyle said, leaning back casually. "From the girl I rescued out of pity to the woman playing in big leagues. Or at least trying to."
She didn't flinch. "You didn't rescue me. You trapped me."
He chuckled, eyes flitting to Damon. "And now you've traded up. But tell me, Damon — how well do you really know her?"
Damon didn't blink. "Well enough to know you're the one who sent threats. The fake clients. The messages. The tracking device. You've crossed a line."
"You don't have proof."
Damon smiled coldly. "We do now."
At that cue, one of Damon's investigators entered the room and dropped a stack of printed evidence in front of Kyle — surveillance stills, server access logs, audio recordings of a conversation Kyle didn't know had been tapped.
Ava added softly, "You always underestimated me. That was your first mistake."
Kyle's mask faltered.
He stood, fury flashing in his eyes. "Do you know who I am? I built my company from nothing!"
"So did I," Damon said. "Without sabotage. Without hurting people."
Security entered the room.
Kyle's voice cracked with venom. "You think this is over? You think you've won?"
"I don't need to win," Ava said. "I just need you out of my life."
As he was escorted out, he turned one last time — eyes locked on Ava. But she didn't look away.
She had already survived him once.
This time, she had ended him.
—
Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the city skyline, Ava stood on the rooftop terrace again. The wind tugged gently at her hair as Damon approached from behind.
He slid his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"It's over," he murmured.
"No," she said. "It's just beginning."
He turned her toward him. "Then let's start right."
She blinked as he pulled something small from his pocket — not a ring, not yet — but a simple silver key.
"My place," he said. "Not just for tonight. For whenever you're ready."
She smiled, tears pricking her eyes. "And if I say yes?"
"I'll never walk away again."
She took the key, curling her fingers around it like a promise. "Then come home with me tonight. Not as CEO and executive. Just as us."
He leaned down, kissing her — not with urgency, but with certainty.
And this time, there were no shadows behind them. Just the promise of something real.
Love — not the kind born from fairytales, but forged in heartbreak, mistakes, and the strength to begin again.
Her name was Ava.
And this time, she had written the ending herself.
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The End.