Chapter 6: The Midnight Guardian
483 Words
The penthouse bar was a sanctuary of amber lights and expensive silence, but it couldn't quiet the storm in Avery’s head. Despite the satisfying "face-slapping" she had delivered in the boardroom, she found herself overthinking. Three years of memories—the fake smiles, the broken promises, and the way Lucas had looked at her like she was a "burden"—refused to stay buried.
She swirled the amber liquid in her glass, the "Hot-blooded" anger she’d felt earlier replaced by a hollow ache. She was the "Kickass Heroine" of the business world, but here, in the dim light, she was just a woman wondering how she had been so wrong about a man’s heart.
"The problem with overthinking," a deep, velvet voice vibrated from the stool beside her, "is that you eventually start believing the lies your past told you."
Avery blinked, her vision slightly blurred from the third—or was it fourth?—cocktail. She turned to see a man who seemed carved from the very shadows of the room. He was strikingly handsome, with a sharp jawline and eyes that held the weight of a thousand secrets. This was Ethan Thorne, the reclusive billionaire whose influence rivaled even the Divine Group.
For the first time that day, Avery felt a genuine spark of interest that had nothing to do with revenge. Ethan’s presence was grounding, making her feel unexpectedly happy despite the bitter memories of her husband.
"And what if those lies lasted three years?" Avery asked, her voice slurring just a fraction.
Ethan leaned in, the scent of sandalwood and rain surrounding her. "Then you've wasted enough time on them. Let someone else take the burden for a night."
Avery laughed, a light, genuine sound she hadn't made in years. But as she tried to stand, the room tilted dangerously. The alcohol had finally caught up to her, turning her "Serious" composure into a dizzying haze.
She stumbled, and before she could meet the floor, Ethan’s strong arms were around her. He caught her with a "Silent Guardian" grace, pulling her steady against his chest.
"You're drunk, Ms. Divine," he murmured against her ear.
"I’m... celebrating my freedom," she whispered, her head lolling against his shoulder.
Ethan looked at the woman in his arms—the fierce "Modern Royalty" who had just decimated her ex-husband’s career. He knew he couldn't just leave her here, and he certainly wasn't going to call a taxi.
"Let's get you home, Avery," Ethan said softly. He swept her into his arms, carrying her through the bar toward his waiting motorcade. As he settled her into the back of his car, he realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn't just interested in a business merger—he was interested in the woman who had survived the fire?
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