Chapter 6: Morning Dew in Central Park
1913 Words
Aivira felt as though an invisible hand had clenched her heart, squeezing it until it abruptly stopped beating. All surrounding sounds—applause, murmurs, jazz blues—faded instantly, blurring into a buzzing background noise. Her world contained only Liam Black's eyes, no longer cold but burning with pain and questioning—those gray-blue eyes.
What did he know? How much had he guessed? “Nothing at all”... The words struck like a poisoned dagger, piercing precisely through the fragile barrier she'd built over three years with lies and silence.
Her lips trembled, her green eyes brimming with shock and terror so immense it threatened to overwhelm her. She instinctively wanted to retreat, to flee this sudden, suffocating interrogation, but her feet felt nailed to the spot.
Just then, Richard Vaughn, his face ashen from losing the bet, reluctantly broke the frozen moment. “Black! You...” His words were ground out between clenched teeth.
Liam snapped upright, the vulnerability and pain vanishing from his face in an instant, replaced by that cold, hard mask of indifference. He turned to Vaughn, a faint, icy curve of triumph arching his lips.
“Vaughn, the right-of-first-refusal agreement. My lawyer will deliver it to your office promptly at ten tomorrow morning.” His voice had regained its usual steady authority, carrying an air of finality. “I expect to see the signed documents by then.”
Vaughn trembled with rage, but constrained by the presence of numerous prominent figures and the wager he’d made himself, he could not erupt. Instead, he shot Avila a furious glare, as if blaming her for his humiliation, then stormed off.
The gathering ended in discord. Witnessing this, the others politely excused themselves, though their glances toward Avila and Liam as they departed held a new measure of scrutiny and awe.
At the club entrance, the black Cullinan glided silently into view once more. The ride back was marked by a deafening silence. Aivira pressed herself against the window, staring out at New York's dazzling yet icy nightscape. Her heart still pounded wildly, her mind a chaotic whirl. Liam's words and his gaze echoed relentlessly in her thoughts.
He made no further inquiries, nor did he look at her. Instead, he closed his eyes to rest, his profile sharp and rigid, as if that earth-shattering declaration moments ago had been nothing but her imagination.
But Avila knew it wasn't. The balance had been shattered. She could almost hear the ticking of a time bomb accelerating.
Upon returning to San Francisco, the atmosphere grew more tense. Liam never mentioned New York again, reverting to his previous businesslike demeanor toward Avila—if anything, he became harsher and more demanding, pressing her relentlessly for updates on the Prometheus project. Yet Avila sensed his eyes lingering on her back for longer stretches now. That gaze was no longer merely scrutinizing; it felt more like... waiting. Waiting for her to break down. Waiting for her to confess.
This silent pressure nearly suffocated her. She threw herself into work, trying to numb herself with exhaustion, but insomnia and anxiety only grew worse each day.
One Saturday morning, the sky was just beginning to lighten. After days of barely sleeping, Aivera's head pounded. She decided to take a walk in the nearby park, breathe in some fresh air, and try to clear her mind. She wore simple workout clothes, her face bare, her deep golden hair tied loosely in a ponytail.
The San Francisco morning carried a chill and a light mist. The park was nearly empty, save for a few joggers and dog walkers. She strolled slowly along the lakeside path, the crisp air temporarily easing the throbbing in her head.
Then, she stopped abruptly.
Not far ahead, a man in black athletic gear, tall and familiar, stood with his back to her, doing warm-up stretches. Even from behind, she knew him instantly—Liam Black.
What was he doing here? This park was far from his usual upscale neighborhood and office.
Avela’s first impulse was to turn and run. But in that split second of hesitation, Liam seemed to have eyes in the back of his head and turned around.
Their eyes locked. Both froze.
A mist like gauze drifted over the lake surface. The faint morning light cast everything in a hazy, unreal glow.
Liam’s gaze lingered on her pale, weary face for a few seconds, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. He wasn’t his usual aggressive self, speaking instead with surprising calm, as if merely encountering an acquaintance by chance: Morning run?"
“...Just walking,” Avila replied softly, her fingers curling unconsciously.
Silence fell. Only the dawn birdsong and distant, indistinct city noise filled the air.
Liam didn't leave, nor did he show any intention of continuing his run. He watched her, then suddenly asked, “How's the redundancy code handling in the third module of the Prometheus's underlying logic verification?”
Aivira hadn't expected him to bring up work at this moment. She answered instinctively, “Still optimizing. Trying to replace static thresholds with dynamic weights, but the convergence speed isn't ideal yet...”
She smoothly listed several technical key points and the bottlenecks encountered. Liam listened quietly, occasionally posing one or two extremely precise questions.
Before they knew it, the two were walking side by side along the lakeside path. The atmosphere was strangely peaceful, as if they were merely two tech geeks discussing a shared technical challenge, temporarily forgetting the complex, unresolved grudges and suspicions between them.
After finishing the technical discussion, another silence fell. But this time, the silence no longer felt suffocating.
Sunlight gradually pierced the mist, scattering fragments of golden light across the lake. The air was crisp and refreshingly cold.
After walking a considerable distance, Liam suddenly spoke again, his voice much lower, shedding the tone he’d used while discussing work: “I looked into your mother’s medical records.”
Avela’s body stiffened abruptly. Her steps halted, her face turning ashen white in an instant as she stared at him in terror.
“Relax,” Liam's tone was unexpectedly devoid of threat, even tinged with... weariness? “The records were heavily encrypted. All I could find was that she received treatment at the ArcLight Life Research Center. The lead physician was someone named Sorensen. The costs were exorbitant.”
ArcLight... Dr. Sorensen... These names pierced Avila like needles, her breathing becoming ragged.
“I also discovered,” Liam continued, his gaze drifting to a waterbird on the distant lake, his voice steady yet powerful, "that three years ago, around the time you left, a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands made multiple large transfers to a medical account linked to your mother. And the flow of funds from that shell company ultimately led to a secret fund belonging to Richard Vaughn of Kronos Technologies."
Aivira sucked in a sharp breath, her body beginning to tremble slightly, her eyes filled with disbelief and immense fear. He... he had actually uncovered this much!
“So,” Liam halted, turning to face her. His gaze was as clear as morning light, as deep as a lake, devoid of anger or accusation—only a heavy, truth-seeking resolve remained. "Now, can you tell me, Avila? What really happened? Did Vaughn threaten you with your mother's medical expenses and her life to make you leave me? To make you sign that damn agreement? Made you live like a shadow these past three years?"
His deductions were almost at the heart of the truth!
Every defense crumbled completely in that instant. Concealment, fear, loneliness, resentment, the crushing burden of three long years... all burst forth like a dam breaking. Tears welled up unexpectedly, rolling down her pale cheeks.
She bowed her head, shoulders trembling softly with suppressed sobs.
Liam didn't press her. He simply stood there silently, like a quiet, reliable harbor.
After a long while, Avila began to speak in a voice so faint it was barely audible, her words broken by heavy sobs: "It wasn't just... the medical bills... They... Vaughn's people found me... showed me an agreement... My mom... back when times were hard, she signed an informed consent form with unlimited liability clauses for a new d**g clinical trial... It was a trap... Vaughn got that document from somewhere... and used it to threaten..."
Her voice shattered, each word laced with shards of glass: “They said... if I didn't obey, leave you, and sign a confidentiality agreement promising never to tell you the truth... they'd sue Mom for ‘breaching the trial agreement’... with astronomical damages... She'd lose all her treatment immediately... and face criminal charges... Her body couldn't handle it... She'd die...”
She lifted tear-filled eyes to Liam, her gaze brimming with despair and lingering terror. “They also said... if I told you anything, or sought your help... they'd activate the procedure immediately... and... and it would also harm you and Black International... I don't know what they'd do... I couldn't risk it... Liam... I truly couldn't...”
Finally unable to hold back, she covered her face and burst into sobs, as if releasing three years of fear and injustice all at once. Her slender, fragile shoulders shook violently, as if they might shatter at any moment.
Liam listened silently, his facial muscles taut, jawline sharp as a knife's edge. His gray eyes churned with overwhelming fury and a terrifying storm! He had anticipated threats, but never imagined such a despicable, shameless tactic—exploiting the lives of others' loved ones and their past vulnerabilities! Vaughn! Kronos!
So, her departure, her silence, her struggles, that scar on her wrist that seemed like a mark of despair... everything made sense now.
It wasn't betrayal.
It was sacrifice. It was protection.
A tidal wave of heartbreak and regret washed over him. He recalled the hatred and fury he'd harbored these past three years, remembered how he'd pressured and threatened her after their reunion... He wanted to punch himself in the past!
Seeing Avila weeping before him, nearly broken, he could no longer contain his impulse.
He stepped forward, arms outstretched, pulling her tightly yet gently into his embrace.
Aivira's body stiffened at first, then melted within that warm, solid hold. Surrounded by the familiar yet strangely foreign scent of cedar and leather, the last shred of her resolve vanished. She slumped weakly against his chest, tears soaking through his expensive tracksuit.
“I'm sorry...” she choked out, her words jumbled. “I'm sorry... Liam... I shouldn't have...”
“Shh...” Liam's deep voice murmured above her head, tinged with unprecedented tenderness and hoarseness. “I'm the one who should apologize. I failed to protect you. I was foolish enough to let hatred blind me, to not uncover the truth sooner.”
His arms tightened around her, as if he wanted to mold her into his very bones, never to part.
“It's over, Avila,” his voice became unwavering, carrying a reassuring strength. “All the threats, all the fear—it ends here. Vaughn, Kronos, that damn agreement... I'll handle it. Everything will be resolved. I promise you.”
Morning light completely dispersed the mist, bathing the embracing pair in its glow. The lake surface shimmered like scattered diamonds.
On this early morning in Central Park, the ice that had frozen for three years finally melted away completely.
And the flames of vengeance would blaze fiercely within Liam Black's heart.
- Writer
