Breaking Point
The penthouse felt smaller every day, the glass walls closing in like a beautiful prison. Ava paced the living room that afternoon, her phone clutched in her hand like a lifeline. It was one of those rare quiet moments, Lucian out at a site visit for some new acquisition, the city humming far below. Snow dusted the terrace outside, turning Manhattan into a postcard she couldn't escape.
Her phone rang, the hospital's number flashing on the screen. Her heart skipped. Bad news? Good news? With her father, it was always a coin flip these days.
Dad? she answered, voice steady despite the knot in her stomach.
Ava, honey. His voice was weaker than last week, raspy from the tubes and treatments, but there was a sharpness to it. We need to talk.
She sank onto the couch, pulling
