The Brother I Was Never Supposed to Want

Chapter 22

The Morning After...

Ava barely slept.

Every time she closed her eyes, Isabella's calm voice echoed in her mind.

"He belongs to a world that destroys everything it touches."

She had smiled when she said it.

Not cruelly.

Not threateningly.

Almost... sympathetically.

That somehow made it worse.

---

Sunlight filtered through the curtains of Ava's apartment.

Mochi jumped onto the bed, meowing impatiently until she opened one eye.

"You're lucky you're cute."

He answered by pawing at her blanket.

Ava laughed softly despite the heaviness in her chest.

"Fine."

"I'm getting up."

She shuffled into the kitchen, still wearing one of her oversized T-shirts.

Her phone buzzed before she'd even poured her coffee.

It was Chloe.

"Tell me you're awake."

"I am now."

"Good."

"Don't panic."

"I wasn't panicking."

"Liar."

"What happened?"

There was a pause.

"Have you checked social media?"

Ava frowned.

"No."

"...Should I?"

"Maybe sit down first."

Ava's stomach tightened.

She opened the first app.

Her breath caught.

There, at the top of nearly every entertainment page, was the same photograph.

Nathan looking at her while they danced.

She was smiling.

He was smiling.

The caption read:

New York's most eligible billionaire finally introduces the mystery woman who's captured his heart.

Another article called her "The Artist Who Stole Nathan Walker's Attention."

Others were less kind.

"Street artist dating billionaire CEO?"

"Can an ordinary girl survive the Walker family?"

"Who is Ava Carter?"

Her phone buzzed again.

More notifications.

More messages.

She quickly locked the screen.

"I wasn't ready for this."

"You don't have to read the comments," Chloe said gently.

"I know."

"But people are talking about me."

"They've been talking since last night."

Ava leaned against the counter.

"I paint walls."

"I don't belong in gossip columns."

"You didn't ask for this."

"No..."

She closed her eyes.

"But it found me anyway."

---

Across town...

Nathan was already in his office when Dante entered carrying a tablet.

"You've seen the headlines?"

Nathan barely looked up from the file in front of him.

"I expected them."

Dante placed the tablet on the desk.

"Some are harmless."

"And the rest?"

"They're already digging into Ava's life."

Nathan's expression hardened.

"Shut it down."

"We're trying."

"No."

Nathan's voice turned colder.

"Don't threaten anyone."

"Don't buy anyone."

"Just make sure they leave her alone."

Dante nodded.

"I'll handle it."

Before leaving, he hesitated.

"Richard invited Isabella to dinner tonight."

Nathan finally looked up.

"I won't be there."

"He'll be disappointed."

Nathan returned to his paperwork.

"He'll survive."

---

At the Walker estate...

Richard folded the newspaper with obvious irritation.

The front page featured Nathan and Ava dancing.

Victoria smiled over her coffee.

"It's a lovely picture."

Richard shot her a look.

"It's a disaster."

"I see my son looking happy."

"I see a scandal waiting to happen."

Before Victoria could answer, Isabella entered the dining room.

She greeted them with her usual grace.

"Good morning."

Richard gestured toward the newspaper.

"I'm glad you're here."

Isabella glanced at the photograph.

For a brief moment...

Her smile faded.

Only for a second.

Then it returned.

"They look... comfortable together."

Richard frowned.

"I didn't bring you back to compliment them."

"I know."

She calmly folded the newspaper closed.

"But underestimating Ava would be a mistake."

Richard looked surprised.

"You think she has a chance?"

Isabella met his gaze.

"I think Nathan has already made his choice."

The room fell silent.

Richard's jaw tightened.

"I intend to change his mind."

Isabella looked out the window thoughtfully.

"So do I."

But unlike Richard...

She wasn't planning to fight Nathan.

She intended to make Ava walk away on her own.

...

The familiar scent of fresh paint greeted Ava the moment she unlocked the studio door.

For the first time that morning, she felt herself breathe.

This was her safe place.

No cameras.

No whispers.

No Walker family.

Just blank canvases waiting to become something beautiful.

She tied her hair into a messy bun, slipped on her paint-stained apron, and picked up a brush.

"Okay," she murmured to herself.

"Back to reality."

She had barely dipped the brush into blue paint when the bell above the studio door chimed.

A young couple stepped inside.

Ava smiled politely.

"Hi. Welcome."

The woman stared at her for a second before gasping.

"Oh my gosh..."

Her boyfriend looked confused.

"What?"

She pointed excitedly.

"It's her!"

Ava's smile faltered.

"I'm sorry?"

"You're Ava Carter!"

"The girl from the gala!"

The boyfriend's eyes widened.

"Oh..."

"The one dancing with Nathan Walker?"

Ava forced another smile.

"...Yes."

"I saw your pictures everywhere this morning," the woman said, pulling out her phone. "Would you mind taking a selfie with me?"

Ava hesitated.

She wasn't an actress.

She wasn't a singer.

She painted murals for a living.

Still, she didn't want to be rude.

"Just one."

The woman hurried beside her and snapped a photo.

"Thank you!"

As the couple walked toward the exit, the boyfriend glanced around the studio.

"So... do you actually sell these paintings?"

Ava blinked.

"I do."

He nodded distractedly.

"Cool."

Then they left.

Without asking the price.

Without looking at a single painting for more than a second.

The silence that followed felt heavier than before.

Ava looked around the studio.

Every canvas suddenly felt invisible.

"They came to see me..."

She swallowed.

"...but not because of my art."

Before she could shake off the feeling, the bell rang again.

Two college students entered.

One whispered loudly enough for her to hear.

"That's definitely her."

"Ask her."

The other smiled awkwardly.

"Excuse me... is Nathan Walker really as handsome in real life?"

Ava couldn't help letting out a small, tired laugh.

"Yes."

"So... are you two dating?"

She paused.

"I'm here to paint."

The students exchanged embarrassed glances.

"Oh... right."

"We're sorry."

One of them finally noticed the large landscape painting resting on an easel.

"Wait..."

She stepped closer.

"Did you paint this?"

Ava nodded.

"I did."

The student stared for several moments.

"It's beautiful."

Her friend joined her.

"I love the colours."

For the first time all morning, someone was looking at her work instead of the gossip surrounding her.

A genuine smile spread across Ava's face.

"Thank you."

The two students spent nearly twenty minutes walking through the studio, asking about techniques, inspiration, and her favourite pieces.

Before leaving, one of them bought a small framed painting.

It wasn't expensive.

But it meant more than they could have known.

After they left, Ava carefully wrapped the sold painting and smiled to herself.

Maybe Chloe was right.

Maybe not everyone only saw "Nathan Walker's date."

Maybe some people still saw...

Ava Carter.

The artist.

...

Ava had just finished writing SOLD on the small painting's tag when the bell above the studio door chimed again.

She looked up.

A woman in her early forties stepped inside, dressed in a tailored ivory suit. Unlike the visitors from earlier, she didn't immediately look at Ava.

She looked at the paintings.

One by one.

Slowly.

Carefully.

She stopped in front of a large canvas depicting a rain-soaked New York street illuminated by warm golden lights.

She studied it for nearly a minute.

Only then did she speak.

"Your use of light is remarkable."

Ava blinked.

"Thank you."

The woman turned with a warm smile.

"I'm Amelia Brooks."

Recognition flashed across Ava's face.

"The gallery director..."

Amelia nodded.

"I believe Victoria Walker mentioned me."

"She did."

"I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced."

"Not at all."

Ava quickly wiped her paint-covered hands on her apron.

"I'm sorry about the mess."

Amelia glanced around the studio.

"This isn't a mess."

"It's where art is born."

Ava smiled shyly.

"I've visited dozens of studios over the years," Amelia continued. "The best ones never look perfect."

She wandered toward another painting.

"This one..."

"It feels personal."

Ava looked at the canvas.

It showed a lone figure standing beneath a sky filled with deep blues and fiery oranges.

"I painted it after..." She hesitated. "After my life changed."

Amelia didn't press for details.

"Pain often creates the most honest art."

Silence settled between them as Amelia continued looking around.

Finally, she turned back to Ava.

"I'd like to invite you to participate in our Emerging Voices Exhibition next month."

Ava's eyes widened.

"...Me?"

"You."

"I..."

She laughed nervously.

"There must be artists with more experience."

"There are."

"And there are artists with more fame."

Ava's smile faded slightly.

Amelia seemed to notice.

She stepped closer.

"I know what you're thinking."

"You do?"

"You think I'm here because you attended the Walker gala."

Ava looked down.

"I'd be lying if I said the thought hadn't crossed my mind."

Amelia smiled gently.

"Victoria told me about your work weeks before the gala."

She reached into her handbag and removed a folded brochure.

"I actually came to see one of your murals in Brooklyn three days before that event."

Ava looked surprised.

"You... saw it?"

"I stood there for nearly half an hour."

"You have a gift, Ava."

"A rare one."

"You paint emotions people struggle to put into words."

For a moment, Ava couldn't speak.

All morning, she had wondered if anyone still saw her as an artist.

Now, standing in her tiny studio, someone she respected had answered that question.

"I'd be honoured," she said quietly.

Amelia's smile widened.

"I was hoping you'd say that."

She handed Ava a business card.

"My assistant will contact you tomorrow."

"We'll discuss which pieces you'd like to exhibit."

As Amelia headed toward the door, she paused.

"Oh, one more thing."

Ava looked up.

"Don't let other people's opinions convince you that your success belongs to someone else."

She smiled knowingly.

"Talent has a way of finding its audience."

The bell chimed softly as Amelia left.

Ava stood alone in the studio, the business card still clutched in her hand.

For the first time since the gala...

She wasn't thinking about the headlines.

She wasn't thinking about Nathan.

She wasn't thinking about Isabella.

She was thinking about her future.

And for the first time in a long while...

It looked brighter than she'd dared to imagine.