CAPTURED BY THE BILLIONAIRE HEART

Chapter 2. A Name Erased

A Name Erased

Ava's POV

"You can’t keep running forever, Ava."

I stopped.

When I opened the bus door, the icy wind slammed into my face, but the name struck me more forcefully. It had not been spoken for months. Like a corpse too dangerous to unearth, I had buried that name. However, the man who said it wasn't addressing me. He was, of all things, screaming at his dog.

I ducked my head, though, and held the twins closer. It didn't matter to my heart if it was a coincidence. Like it was trying to get out, it hammered in my chest.

We had recently reached Coldwater. A town so tiny that the map didn't even show it. The only sounds were fog, silence, and the sound of my own thoughts, which were like nighttime hounds. It was not the weather that made my hands shake, but the pressure of acting.

Ava perished on that precipice. The world held that to be true. That was what I wanted them to think.

I was a different person. A fresh moniker. A stranger who didn't ask questions in a small town. Secrets could be buried there without causing any repercussions.

A name was requested by the woman at the motel's front desk.

I said, "Anna."

I didn't feel like it. Nothing seemed to be happening. But it was successful. With an indifferent smile, she gave me a key and advised me to savor the quiet. I thought about laughing.

Peace was not silence. Being silent was risky. Silence allowed memories to come to life.

After placing the twins on the bed, I sat between them and observed their tiny chests as they rose and fell. They hardly wept. It made me anxious. As if they were aware of our run. As if they were aware of danger from birth.

I made an effort to ignore the mirror. Traitors were mirrors. They whispered to me. However, after they had gone to sleep that night, I erred by looking at the tiny, cracked one over the sink.

I didn't recognize myself.

I saw him.

Charles.

The burst of his anger. His eyes were frozen. Not out of love or even rage, the way he held my wrist last night. In possession.

He had treated me like I was his own. As though I were nothing more than a pricey object that he didn't want anybody else to touch.

In the event that he discovers that I am still alive...

I stopped the thought in its tracks. I tucked the towel-wrapped mirror beneath the bed. Perhaps he wouldn't be able to locate me if I didn't see him.

After two days, I was hired. Off the highway, working as a waitress at a dilapidated diner. No one took notice of the new girl. That was what I desired. to dim. to blend in with the walls. I wore loose-fitting sweaters, tied my hair back, and avoided prolonged smiles.

But someone took notice.

He was there every day. The same booth was occupied. I always got toast and coffee. The menu was never examined. I never gave anyone a look. Except for me.

I initially assumed it was paranoia. However, I noticed him staring when I passed his booth a third time. Not in a romantic manner. In a knowing manner. As if he had noticed something I was concealing.

Then one day he wrote something beneath his plate. One word only.

"Ava."

I dropped the plate. The thing broke.

Before I reached the door, he had left. Not a name. I was unable to follow any faces. The memory of his ash-gray eyes alone.

I read the note repeatedly that night while sitting in the dark while the twins slept. I almost gave Maya a call. However, since the escape, I had not heard from her. However, what if the call was tracked down?

The next day, I skipped work.

I returned the next day. He was absent.

One week went by.

The diner then caught fire.

In the kitchen, it began. They attributed it to defective wiring. That morning, however, I had seen the man again, seated in the same booth. Looking at me.

This time, he grinned. Then the fire started.

Throwing everything I owned into a bag, I snatched up my coat and hurried back to the motel. Not even the manager was awakened by me. The twins and I simply ran into the woods.

I spent three days sleeping beneath trees. consumed bars of granola. Hands trembling, feed the infants. I told myself that the fire was a random one. An odd mishap.

Before I noticed the photo on a bulletin board outside the gas station, that is.

Burned edges. My visage. hazy.

A prize.

I was wanted by someone.

When I turned, he was there. That guy from the diner.

But now he was doing more than merely observing.

He was on his way to me.

And he had a badge this time.

"Name?"

My mouth moved. The newborn's weight pressing firmly against my chest made my hands tremble. I was prepared to speak. Tonight was the night of the old name, the one etched in blood and terror.

The words "Anna. Anna Grace," I muttered.

The nurse didn't raise her eyes from the documents. She simply nodded, wrote something down, and turned away as if she had heard the same lie a thousand times. However, this lie was distinct. My only chance was to tell this lie.

The clinic in the small town had a rain and bleach odor. I hadn't had any food in a day. Despite my headache, I was unable to sit. couldn't take a deep breath. I couldn't sleep. Because I would remember if I slept. I'd break if I remembered.

The twins fell asleep. One hiccupped softly and stirred. I leaned down to give him a forehead kiss and muttered a pledge I wasn't sure I could honor.

It was dawn when we left the clinic. If you looked closely, the sky appeared to be a bruised pink, resembling hope. I had hitched a ride to the next town's edge, my arms hurting from holding them close and my legs going numb. I got a ride from a woman with a beat-up pickup and good eyes. She didn't pose inquiries. I didn't have any answers.

We got to Willowrun by chance. A drowsy place with a diner that served soggy eggs and burnt coffee, a gas station, and one traffic light. It was ideal.

I was not noticed here. Nobody gave it a second look.

A dilapidated building with peeling paint and ghostly creaking floors was where I rented a room. I smiled and said just enough to satisfy Mrs. Knox, the landlady, who asked too many questions. informed her that the twins' father had died. I told her I was making a fresh start. I nearly believed the lies she told me.

A few weeks went by. Then months. I was hired by a roadside motel to clean rooms. Money beneath the table. Sufficient to purchase formula and diapers. Sufficient to continue.

The nightmares, however, continued.

Sure I heard Charles's voice behind the walls, I would wake up gasping. The locks would be checked three times every night. There were moments when I believed I saw shadows where none existed. There was a glimpse of something observing from the trees.

I did not turn off the lights. I cut off conversations with strangers. I stopped using the internet. I gradually erased myself.

Until the day comes... It was heard by me.

I'm laughing. Too familiar a sound. My grip tightened on the stroller as I froze at the grocery store entrance.

It was merely the voice of a customer. I didn't know the man. But my chest gave out when I heard him laugh.

I abandoned the cart and pushed the twins more quickly. For hours, my heart would not stop beating. I knew I couldn't live this way when I eventually relaxed enough to breathe. looking behind me. bouncing at every sound.

I had to actually change who I was. Not on paper alone.

I got my hair dyed. Keep it brief. altered my stroll. how I stand. I started wearing loose clothing that sucked my body in. Anna Grace was me. A young mother who is exhausted. No one stands out.

For a while, it worked. Until the evening when I discovered the envelope.

It was hidden beneath my door. Not a name. There is no return address. There is only one picture inside.

I did it. Grasping the twins outside the clinic.

I gave way at the knees. I shut the door. Every curtain was closed. With the babies, I sat on the floor and sobbed into the quiet.

I was located by him.

I considered running once more. How far could I go, though? The twins continued to grow. Stability was what they needed, not fear. I didn't want them to grow up fearing every door knock.

I needed assistance.

I was unable to go to the police, though. Charles wore them around his fingers, which were ringed in gold. He would be aware of each and every call, camera, and whisper.

I visited a library that evening. made use of a public computer. looked for independent investigators. One that didn't request names was found. Only specifics.

I sent a message.

A few days went by. Not responding.

A strange number then buzzed on my phone just before dawn.

An SMS. "His identity is known to us. Your location is known to us. Come meet us. By themselves.

I should have disregarded it. But there was a picture with the message.

Another one. of my infants in their cribs.

My house had been visited.

After grabbing the burner phone and packing a small bag, I left them with Mrs. Knox. It was a quick work thing, I told her. a favor.

On the outskirts of town, I met the contact. I had never seen him lean against a car before, with a hat lowered over his eyes.

At first, he said nothing. I was just given a file.

There are pictures, bank documents, and even a secret marriage license inside. Charles was previously married. to another individual. A person who has been absent for five years.

At last, the contact opened their mouth. His tone was low.

"He's already done this. There were others before you.

It made my stomach turn. The earth swayed. It was more than just me running. Stopping him was the goal.

Prior to him doing this to another person.

Before he went back and found us.

I gave the contact a look. I felt uneasy because of something in his eyes.

"Why help me?" "What?" I inquired.

He was not smiling. Simply put, "Because Elise was my sister."

After that, he vanished.

But not before alerting me.

"He's already aware that you're alive. And he will arrive.

The sky was overcast when I walked home. As I entered my porch, the first raindrops began to fall.

I had left my door open. The twins had also left.