Ava didn't sleep that night. Not because of the storm tapping at her window or the persistent blinking of the streetlight outside. No, it was the silence in the guest room down the hall that held her captive, the kind of silence that felt too heavy, like it was hiding something. Kian hadn't spoken a word to her after dinner, not even when she passed him the last of the wine. He simply took it, nodded, and retreated like he always did when the world was too much.
She tossed the duvet aside and slipped into her slippers. The marble floors were cold beneath her feet as she crept toward the hallway. A warm glow leaked from beneath his door. She hovered, fingers curled against the polished wood, torn between knocking and turning away.
But before she could decide, the door cracked open.
Kian stood in sweatpants and a loose black shirt, eyes shadowed and unreadable. His hair was tousled like he'd run his hand through it too many times, and a tiredness clung to him that Ava hadn't seen before—not even during his coldest moments.
"You couldn't sleep either," he said, voice low.
Ava blinked. "No. I— I kept thinking."
Kian stepped aside. "You can come in."
She entered slowly, the scent of his cologne subtly woven into the air. His room was surprisingly lived-in. Not sterile like she imagined. A half-read book sat face-down on the nightstand, a cup of untouched coffee rested beside it. The curtains were partially drawn, letting the moonlight spill across his desk where papers were scattered—business plans, sketches, and something that looked suspiciously like a photo of her and Kian at the charity gala.
"You keep everything close to your chest, Kian," Ava said quietly, eyes roaming. "Why?"
He closed the door, leaning against it. "Because the world has never been kind when I let it too close."
Ava turned to face him. "And me? Am I part of that world?"
"You were," he said, almost a whisper. "But something changed."
The honesty in his voice wrapped around her like a rope, tugging her heart painfully.
She crossed the room, stopping a breath away from him. "Then tell me what changed."
He looked at her, truly looked, as if searching for something beneath her skin. "You didn't leave when it got hard. You didn't flinch when I pushed you away."
"I'm not here to fix you," she said. "But I won't walk away from someone who's trying."
A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "That's what terrifies me."
She didn't speak. She let the moment stretch, the quiet thrum of the city outside cushioning the space between them.
Then he did something unexpected.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're stronger than you let on, Ava."
"So are you," she said.
Their eyes locked, and the gravity between them pulled tighter. He didn't kiss her. He didn't make some dramatic confession. But the way he touched her cheek, the way his thumb grazed her jaw—it said more than words ever could.
"Stay," he murmured.
She nodded, heartbeat skittering.
He moved to the edge of the bed and sat, pulling the blanket back. Ava hesitated only a second before climbing in beside him. Not under the covers, not wrapped around each other like lovers, but lying side by side, shoulders nearly touching, staring at the ceiling.
"Kian," she said after a long silence, "what happened with your father?"
He stiffened.
She almost apologized, but then his voice broke the silence. "He was never supposed to die that way."
Ava turned her head toward him. "You were close?"
"I wanted to be," he said, staring at the ceiling like it held every painful memory. "But he made it hard. He wanted perfection. I gave it. And still, it was never enough. Then the scandal with his company… the betrayal… I thought if I rebuilt it, I'd finally earn his approval."
She reached out, letting her fingers brush his. "You don't owe the dead your happiness."
He turned to her then, eyes glassy. "But I owe him my survival. This empire—it's built on his mistakes. If I don't succeed, it'll swallow me too."
"Then build something that's yours," Ava whispered. "Not out of guilt, but out of purpose."
Kian looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. "How do you do that?"
"By letting go of what you can't change," she said. "And by letting someone in."
His fingers slowly laced with hers.
She fell asleep like that—hand in hand with the man she once believed was incapable of warmth.
When morning came, the sun filtered through the curtains gently, brushing her face with light. Ava stirred, eyes blinking open. Kian was still beside her, but his phone was to his ear and his expression sharp.
"No, I don't want her name leaked. Keep it sealed. If this story breaks, Ava will be targeted. I won't allow it."
Her breath caught.
He turned, startled to see her awake. "I'll call you back," he said into the phone, then ended the call.
"Kian… what was that?"
He rubbed the back of his neck. "The tabloids got wind of the Board's vote to officially name me sole heir. They're digging—into me, into you."
"And you didn't tell me because?"
"I didn't want to scare you."
Ava sat up. "I don't scare easily."
A pause. "I'm learning that."
She stood from the bed and moved to the window, arms crossing. "If we're doing this—whatever this is—it has to be honest. I can handle the press. I've handled worse."
Kian walked up behind her, his reflection beside hers in the glass. "I'm not used to letting people fight beside me."
"Then get used to me."
A small smile tugged at his mouth. "You're stubborn."
"So are you."
He leaned down and kissed her temple. "I think we're both in trouble."
Just then, a knock echoed through the suite.
It was Clarissa.
Ava tensed instantly. Kian went to open it, and Clarissa entered with her usual perfectly composed demeanor, eyes scanning the room, lingering a moment too long on Ava.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," she said coolly.
"You are," Ava replied before Kian could speak.
Clarissa raised a brow. "Charming, as always. But this is important."
Kian folded his arms. "Then speak."
Clarissa glanced at Ava again. "Privately."
"No," Kian said. "You can say it in front of her."
Clarissa's lips twitched, but she handed him a folded piece of paper. "Your mother's lawyer sent this. It's her condition for reinstating her shares to the company."
Ava didn't understand the significance, but she saw the way Kian's jaw tightened as he unfolded the letter. His silence stretched, and the emotion in his eyes was unmistakable—betrayal.
"What is it?" Ava asked gently.
Clarissa answered instead. "She wants him to marry someone else. A union that will strengthen the business and silence the board's conservative wing."
Ava felt the floor tilt beneath her.
Kian's hands slowly lowered. He didn't tear the paper. He didn't shout. He just looked broken.
"That's not going to happen," he said flatly.
Clarissa blinked. "You'll risk losing your position?"
"I'll risk everything," he said, looking at Ava. "Because for once, I've found something real."
Clarissa opened her mouth, but no words came out. She turned and left without another word.
When the door clicked shut, Ava looked at him, heart pounding.
"You'd give it all up?"
He nodded. "If iAva wasn't sure whether to feel overwhelmed or oddly calm in the moment that followed. Kian had just said he'd give up everything—his empire, legacy, and status—just to keep her. That kind of declaration wasn't something she expected from a man like him. Not after all the walls he'd built and all the ways he'd tried to keep her out. But there he stood, in full defiance of the life he was born into, choosing her over it all.
"You can't say things like that," she finally said, her voice hushed.
"Why not?" Kian's eyes didn't waver from hers. "It's the truth."
Ava stepped away from the window, trying to steady her breath. "Because it changes things. It makes me wonder what I'm supposed to do with your heart in my hands."
"You protect it," he said simply. "Just like I want to protect yours."
She laughed, but it was soft and filled with disbelief. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not. Nothing about this is easy. But it's right. I know it in a way I can't explain."
The weight of everything settled between them. Clarissa's interruption, the letter from his mother, the looming threat of a business war disguised as a marriage ultimatum—it all pulsed like static in the air. But then Kian reached out, brushing his thumb along Ava's cheek.
"I don't want to play their games anymore," he said. "My mother used me my entire life to maneuver her way through society. I thought I had to be like her to win. But I was wrong."
Ava searched his face, her voice careful. "And what if walking away from her comes at the cost of everything you've built?"
"Then I build something new. With you, if you'll let me."
There it was again—that dangerous softness in his voice. Not weakness, but vulnerability, a rare and fragile thing coming from a man so tightly wound. And Ava, against every protective instinct honed over years of heartbreak, felt herself surrendering to the possibility of them.
"You said I didn't flinch when things got hard," she whispered. "So don't expect me to start now."
Kian smiled, and it wasn't his usual sharp, practiced grin. It was raw. Real. He leaned in, lips brushing hers in a kiss that wasn't about lust or desperation—it was about grounding, about making sure the moment wasn't a dream.
When they pulled apart, Ava exhaled against his chest. "So what now?"
"We go public," he said. "Not just as a couple. As partners. I want the board to see you standing beside me—not behind me. They need to understand you're not a weakness. You're the reason I'm finally leading from somewhere other than fear."
Ava's breath hitched. "You want me involved in your company?"
"I want you involved in everything," he said. "That is… if you want to be."
She blinked, stunned. "Kian, I'm not a corporate strategist. I'm a creative. An event curator."
"You're someone who sees what others miss. You read people better than anyone in my boardroom. I've watched you talk circles around investors without even knowing it. I need that insight. I need you."
The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. She stepped back and folded her arms, tilting her head. "Fine. But I have terms."
He raised an eyebrow, amused. "Oh? Already negotiating?"
"Absolutely. One—I don't fetch coffee for men in suits. Two—if I disagree with you in a meeting, I'm going to say so. Loudly. And three—no surprises like this morning again. If there's a threat to me or my name, I want to hear it from you first."
Kian's grin spread. "Deal. On all three counts."
"And one more thing," she added. "You can't kiss me in the middle of board meetings."
"Now that's unfortunate," he murmured, stepping closer. "Because that's probably the only way I'll survive them."
She laughed and shook her head. "You're impossible."
"But worth the trouble."
Just then, the door buzzed again.
Kian's smile faded slightly. "Let me guess—more drama."
He opened it to find Darren, his assistant, looking visibly rattled. "Sorry to disturb, sir, but the media is camped out in front of the building. There's been a leak. The letter from your mother made its way to the press. They're reporting that you've been disowned."
Ava's stomach dropped. "What?"
Darren nodded. "It's everywhere. Financial Times, society blogs, even the celebrity gossip channels. They're saying you're being cut off for refusing a strategic marriage alliance."
Kian's face was unreadable. "Let them talk."
"Sir," Darren hesitated, "it's not just talk. Stocks are starting to react. The board is calling for an emergency meeting this evening."
Ava stepped forward. "We should go."
Kian looked at her, jaw tight. "You don't have to get involved in this mess."
"I already am," she said. "By choice."
His eyes softened. "Then let's go remind them who they're dealing with."
Less than two hours later, they entered the boardroom together, hand in hand.
The room, filled with cold faces and silent tension, went utterly still when they walked in. Ava, dressed in a deep navy jumpsuit that screamed elegance and command, didn't break her stride. Kian didn't speak until they both took their seats—Ava at his side, not behind him.
"We understand there are concerns," Kian began, voice calm but firm. "I want to address them head-on."
One of the elder board members, a thin man with a clipped British accent, spoke up. "Concerns? You've effectively thrown away a key alliance. You've embarrassed your family. And you've brought a civilian into this room."
"Her name is Ava Hart," Kian said coolly. "She's not a civilian. She's my partner. And her opinion will carry as much weight here as any of yours moving forward."
Ava didn't flinch under their collective scrutiny. She leaned forward. "I know many of you are used to doing business through fear and control. That's not how we're going to move forward. The market is changing. The world is changing. And if this company doesn't start evolving beyond outdated power marriages and social climbing, you'll find yourselves irrelevant."
The room went still.
Then another member spoke, a woman in her late forties with sharp features. "And what do you suggest, Ms. Hart?"
"Let Kian lead," Ava said. "You've seen what he's done even while constrained by family politics. Imagine what he can build with autonomy and purpose."
Kian looked around the room. "You can vote to remove me. But you'll also be voting against the very reason this company is still afloat."
No one spoke.
Then, one by one, the board members began murmuring. The tide was shifting.
When the vote was called thirty minutes later, it was almost unanimous.
Kian remained CEO.
When they left the room, Ava exhaled deeply. "Was that… a win?"
Kian chuckled. "That was a battle. The war's still going."
"But we fought together," she said, reaching for his hand.
He laced their fingers. "And I'll never fight without you again."
t means keeping you, yes."
C