*Chapter 8: Boardroom and Bed*
1303 Words
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The Kingsley Corp boardroom was 80 floors up. Glass walls. City below.
12 men in suits. 1 woman in power.
And Ava.
She sat beside Alexander at the head of the table. Not behind him. Beside him.
Her hands shook under the table. 50% owner of Kingsley Corp. Richard Kingsley’s daughter. His fiancée.
The title still felt fake.
“Order,” Alexander said. Voice like ice. “Ava Kingsley will be seated on the board, effective immediately.”
A board member laughed. “She’s 23. No degree. No experience. She’s a—”
“Daughter,” Alexander cut him off. “Richard’s daughter. With 50% shares. You will address her as Miss Kingsley.”
The room went silent.
Victoria stood up from her chair at the other end. “She’s a bastard. Richard’s will says legitimate heir only.”
Ava stood up too. Legs shaking, but voice steady. “Then test the will. I have DNA. I have birth certificate. And I have a grandmother who tried to poison me twice.”
Victoria’s face twisted. “You don’t know who your mother slept with, girl—”
“I know who my father was,” Ava said. “Richard Kingsley. The rest doesn’t matter.”
Alexander’s hand found hers under the table. Squeezed once. _I’ve got you._
The vote happened. 7-5. Ava was in.
As the board filed out, Victoria stopped beside Ava’s chair. Leaned down. Whispered:
“Lila Thompson didn’t just sleep with Richard. She slept with Damian Cross. Head of Cross Pharmaceuticals. He’s been funding Victoria’s attempts to kill you. And he’s still alive.”
Ava’s blood ran cold. “Why?”
“Because 23 years ago,” Victoria smiled, “Richard and Damian made a deal. Two women. One night. Whoever got the heir, got Kingsley Corp. Lila was pregnant with twins.”
The world tilted.
“Twins?” Ava whispered.
Victoria laughed and walked out.
Alexander caught Ava before she fell. “Breathe. She’s lying.”
“Is she?” Ava looked at him. “Do I have a twin?”
Alexander’s jaw tightened. “We’ll find out. After this.”
He pulled her out of the boardroom, past security, past reporters shouting “Miss Kingsley!”
Straight to the penthouse elevator.
The doors closed. Silence.
Then Alexander backed her against the wall. Not angry. Desperate.
“You’re shaking,” he said. Hands on her face.
“Boardroom. Twins. Damian Cross,” Ava listed. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.”
“Only this is real,” Alexander said. He kissed her forehead. Her nose. Her lips. Soft. Grounding. “You’re Ava Kingsley. My fiancée. My partner. Not a pawn in their game.”
Ava melted into him. “What if I do have a twin? What if she’s working with Damian?”
“Then we find her,” Alexander said. “Together. But tonight, no board. No Victoria. No twins. Just us.”
The elevator opened to the penthouse. Floor to ceiling windows. Greyford City lights below.
Alexander led her to the bedroom. Not the cold black one from before. This one had white sheets. Rain sound machine. Her dress from the ballroom laid out.
“I had your things moved,” Alexander said. “You live here now. With me.”
Ava turned to him. “Alexander… I’m scared.”
“I know,” he said. He cupped her face. “So am I. I’m scared I’ll lose you to Damian. To Victoria. To a twin I didn’t know existed. But I’m more scared of living without you.”
He kissed her. Slow this time. No audience. No doubt.
His hands slid under her dress. Her hands fisted in his shirt.
“Are you sure?” Alexander whispered against her mouth. “Because once I start, I won’t stop. You’ll be mine. Officially.”
Ava looked into his eyes. No cousin scandal now. No lies. Just truth.
“I’m sure,” she whispered. “I want you. All of you. Even if the world burns.”
Alexander picked her up. Laid her on the bed like she was something precious.
His mouth trailed down her neck. Her collarbone. “Mine,” he murmured between kisses. “You belong to me.”
“I do,” Ava breathed. Hands in his hair. “But you belong to me too.”
Clothes fell away. The world outside disappeared.
For hours, there was only them. No DNA tests. No will. No Damian Cross.
Just Alexander learning every inch of her like he had 23 years to make up for.
Just Ava claiming the man who chose her when everyone else called her trash.
When it was over, Alexander pulled her against his chest. His heartbeat slow under her ear.
Ava traced the scar on his chest from the car crash. “The night we met… in the rain. You said I saved you.”
“You did,” Alexander said. He kissed her hair. “And tonight you saved me again. From being alone.”
Ava smiled into his chest. “Alexander Kingsley… my fiancé.”
“My Ava,” he corrected. “My equal. My 50%.”
The bedroom door opened. Not a knock. No warning.
Victoria stood there. Holding a photo.
“Thought you should see this before breakfast,” Victoria said. Tossed it on the bed.
Ava sat up, sheet clutched to her chest. Alexander was instantly shielding her.
The photo showed Lila Thompson. Young. Pregnant. Standing beside two men.
Richard Kingsley. And Damian Cross.
But Lila wasn’t looking at either of them.
She was looking at a third man in the background. Face half in shadow. But his eyes…
Ava gasped. Those eyes. She’d seen them before. In the mirror.
“Who is that?” Ava whispered.
Victoria smiled. “Your real father, dear. And he’s not Damian. He’s not Richard. He’s the man who built both their empires. The man Victoria’s been working for all along.”
Alexander grabbed the photo. Stared. His face went pale.
“Marcus Cross,” he whispered. “Damian’s brother. The ghost of Cross Pharmaceuticals. He died 20 years ago.”
Victoria laughed. “Did he? Because he’s been writing the checks that paid me to kill you, Ava. And he wants his daughter back.”
The lights flickered. Once. Twice.
Then a voice came through the penthouse speakers. Deep. Amused.
“Hello, Ava. I’m your father. And it’s time you came home.”
Ava’s blood turned to ice.
Alexander stood up instantly. Pulled her behind him. “Guards—”
Too late. All the screens in the penthouse lit up. Security cameras. Every room.
Showing Marcus Cross. Alive. Smiling. Sitting in Victoria’s chair downstairs.
“Board meeting went well, son,” Marcus said to Alexander through the speakers. “But the girl comes with me now. She’s mine. Not Richard’s. Not yours.”
Ava grabbed Alexander’s hand. “I’m not—”
“You are,” Marcus said. “Because 23 years ago, Lila Thompson didn’t sleep with two men. She slept with three. And I’m the one whose blood runs in your veins. Not a billionaire. Not a pharma CEO.”
He leaned forward. Eyes exactly like Ava’s.
“I’m the king of Greyford’s underground. And daughter… you’ve inherited more than money.”
The penthouse door exploded inward. Men in black flooded in.
Alexander drew a gun from the nightstand. Put Ava behind him.
“Get down,” he ordered.
But Ava wasn’t scared. She stood up. Sheet still around her. Eyes locked on Marcus through the camera.
“If you’re my father,” Ava said. Voice steady. “Then you should know… I don’t run from storms anymore. I become them.”
Marcus smiled. Proud. “That’s my girl.”
*End of Chapter 8*
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- Writer
