Chapter 5 - THE APARTMENT ON FOURTH STREETThe rain was coming down in sheets by the time Ava’s black town car pulled up outside a modest, rundown apartment building on Fourth Street.
It was a far cry from the glittering glass towers of downtown Seattle. The streetlights flickered against peeling paint and rusted fire escapes. Yet, as Ava sat in the back of the car watching the glowing window on the second floor, she felt a strange, inexplicable sense of peace wash over her for the first time in years.
She checked her phone. The girls were safely asleep back at her secure estate under the watchful eye of her trusted nanny, Clara. But Ava couldn't go home yet. The walls of her mansion felt suffocating.
She stepped out into the rain, holding a black umbrella, and walked up the concrete steps of the apartment building. She pressed the buzzer for apartment 2B.
A long moment passed. Then the intercom clicked.
"Yeah?" a voice crackled through the speaker—deep, gruff, and cautious.
"It's Ava Sterling," she said into the metal grid.
A heavy pause. Then a soft buzz unlocked the front door.
Ava climbed the creaking wooden stairs to the second floor. At the end of the narrow hallway, apartment door 2B stood ajar. Liam Brooks stood in the doorway, wearing a faded gray t-shirt and sweatpants, holding a mug of steaming coffee. A five-year-old boy with messy brown hair and big hazel eyes peered curiously from behind Liam’s leg.
"Mrs. Sterling," Liam said, looking surprised as he took in her wet hair and designer suit standing in a working-class stairwell. "Is everything okay? Did something happen to the girls?"
"The girls are fine," Ava said softly, pulling her coat tighter against the chill. "They're asleep."
Liam looked at her for a second, reading the exhaustion and the raw, unshielded emotion in her eyes. He stepped back, pushing the door open wider. "Come inside before you catch pneumonia."
The apartment was small, warm, and smelled faintly of cinnamon tea and old books. A miniature toy piano sat in the corner next to a stack of children's picture books. It was the exact opposite of Ava’s sterile, cavernous mansion—it was a home.
"This is Theo," Liam said gently, resting a hand on the boy’s head. "Theo, say hello to Mrs. Sterling."
"Hi," Theo mumbled shyly, clutching a stuffed dinosaur.
"Hi, Theo," Ava smiled, her voice catching slightly. She crouched down to his eye level, realizing with a jolt that Theo was exactly the same age her quadruplets would have been when Julian walked out. "You have a very nice home."
"Dad made pancakes for dinner," Theo announced proudly. "We had chocolate chips."
Liam offered Ava a cup of coffee, which she gratefully accepted, holding the warm ceramic mug between her trembling hands as she sat at the small kitchen table.
"I broke it off with Julian," Ava said quietly, looking down at the dark liquid in her cup. "Just like that. Tossed his empire back in his face, leaked his financial audits to the federal investigators, and walked out of the penthouse."
Liam leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping his coffee. "Sounds like something a CEO would do."
"No," Ava looked up, her dark eyes meeting his. "That's something a mother does when she realizes she’s been living inside a prison she built for herself." She paused, her voice dropping to a trembling whisper. "He knew about the girls, Liam. Julian knew I was pregnant four years ago when he abandoned me. He told me to get rid of them because children were 'liabilities.' And when I refused, he paid off my father’s business associates to drive us into the ground so I’d have nowhere to turn."
Liam’s jaw tightened. The easygoing, calm maintenance worker vanished in an instant, replaced by a cold, dangerous fury. "The son of a bitch."
"He’s finished," Ava said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek before it could fall. "The federal audits will strip him of his assets by the end of the week. Vance Holdings is going under."
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"Good," Liam said firmly, walking over and placing a warm, callused hand gently over her trembling fingers on the table. "He deserved it."
Ava looked down at his hand on hers. For the first time in four years, she didn't feel the need to pull away, to put up a wall, or to protect herself. She simply turned her hand over, intertwining her fingers with his.
