THE NIGHT THAT CHANGED OUR FATE

CHAPTER 1 Ava POV I sat alone in my room, restless. My chest was tight with questions that had no answers. Was I born to suffer? The question kept recurring. Why me? Why this cruelty? Why the hatred that followed me like a curse? Tears trickled down my cheeks as my thoughts drifted to only one person—my mother. She was my pillar, my strength, my only source of warmth in a world that seemed determined to break me. Even now, lying weak and helpless in a hospital bed, she remains the strongest person I know. She had always told me something: Be the woman you are meant to be. Be relentless. Be strong. Never show your weakness. My name is Ava Whitmore, daughter of Whitmore, CEO of Blazers Media—a name that should have opened doors but instead locked me in chains. A name that should have meant protection, privilege and love, yet meant nothing to the man who gave it to me. I was an abandoned daughter. My father didn't care whether I existed or not. Sometimes I felt like he hated me with a passion I couldn't explain. While he was on a luxury trip to Paris with my stepmother and my mum—his first wife lay—dying in a hospital bed, alone and forgotten. My childhood had been nothing but trauma. I had an elder stepsister, Seraphina. Once she has been kind. Somewhere along the way, she became cruel and bitter toward me. My finger quivered as I picked up my phone. I stared at my father's contact for a long time before pressing the call. He never answered my calls—but to my surprise, he did. “Hello, Ava,” he said calmly. "Why the urgency?" “Why are you calling”? His voice broke something inside me. “Why”? I demanded, my voice shaking despite my effort to stay strong. “Why do you treat mum like this”? “You left her in that hospital bed. Dad, she's dying, and you're in Paris living your life as if nothing is happening.” There was silence on the line. Then he chuckled. The sound pierced straight through my chest. “Call me when you're ready for a proper discussion,” he said coldly, and ended the call. I stared at my phone in disbelief, feeling as though the ground beneath me should open up and swallow me whole. Hated by my father. By my stepmother. By my stepsister. Even by the people I once called friends. The door burst open violently. “Ava!” Seraphina snapped, pushing the door open with force and barging into my room like a wounded lion. “Have you suddenly gone deaf?” she sneered, “or is your mother's sickness finally affecting your brain?” “You could have knocked sister.” I said softly, fear creeping into my voice. Her palm struck my face. Sharp pain exploded around my cheek and I shrieked. “How dare you talk back to me?” She hissed. “I'm not your sister. Shut your filthy mouth before I beat the life out of you.” She turned to leave, then paused. “Have you finished cleaning?” she asked casually. “The kitchen. The living room. And you made sure my car is washed. My clothes too. Everything in this house.” Yes, I replied weakly. “Good,” she sneered. “Calista just called. She left some dirty clothes here. Wash those too. And don't expect a servant to help—none of them are touching anything today.” She stormed out, hatred trailing behind her. I collapsed on the bed, staring at the ceiling. From a respected daughter to a household servant. From a girl with dreams to Seraphina's punching bag. I never fought back. She was my elder sister. I believe respect might save me. Jeffery had been my only source of happiness. He used to encourage me, make me smile and even threaten to confront Seraphina when she went too far. But now he was distant. He started changing the moment I told him I worked at Moon Tavern—one of the busiest and chaotic clubs in Chicago. I had no choice. The little money I earned was all I used for my mother's treatment. I was alone in this world. I let out a loud scream and a knock sounded on my door. “Come in," I said softly, a glimmer of hope within me. Yet it wasn't hope. It was Calista—another nightmare. “Someone's looking for you,” she said sharply. And what was all that screaming about? Don't bother screaming next time nobody cares about you.” Her lips curved into a cruel smile. “Who is looking for me?” I asked quietly. "Go find out for yourself," she shrugged. “And don't ever scream again. Seraphina won't find it amusing.” I stepped outside without caring how I looked. It was Jeffery. His face was pale. “What's wrong?” I asked. “Don't touch me,” he snapped. “We're done.” “What?” My heart skipped. “What's going on? Are you crazy?” “Did you just call me crazy?” he barked. “Yes I did, you're acting weird.” The slap came fast on my face. Hard, on the same spot Seraphina had hit me. “Don't ever call me crazy again, bitch.” I clutched my cheek. “What did I do wrong? Please I'll quit Moon Tavern. I promise—just don't leave me.” “You stink,” he sneered. “You look miserable.” “You irritate me.” “I love you,” I whispered. “I don't love you,” he fired back. “You kept me waiting for hours. You didn't bother to look nice, you're looking wretched.” “I didn't know you were here,” I cried. “Nobody told me.” “Liar,” he snapped. “We're done.” He walked away as tears rolled down my cheeks. Only then did it dawn on me—Seraphina and Calista knew he was outside. They had waited. Deliberately. “Don't cry, little girl,” Calista said mockingly. “No one will ever want you.” “Please go get our clothes from Maverick Clothings.” Seraphina said sweetly to Calista. “I got some pretty clothes for us.” Then she turned to me. “Clean everything,” she ordered lazily. “And find somewhere else to sleep tonight. I have a visitor.” I stood there numb. “Get out of my sight,” she yelled. I hurried away. I made a decision. I would work all night at Moon Tavern—no matter the danger—because I had nowhere else to go. I needed new clothes. I was done with the old ones—the worn out shoes that made me feel invisible. Seraphina never deigned to glance at what I wore, yet new designer clothes arrived for her every single day stacked neatly in her wardrobe. Swallowing my bitterness. I hurried to wash Calista's clothes, washing them carefully before heading to the bathroom for a quick shower. “Ava! Ava!” Seraphina called my name loudly. “I'm in the bathroom. I'm taking a quick shower,” I replied softly. “Get out of there and open the door,” she snapped. Someone's here. I knew what Seraphina was capable of doing when she was kept waiting. Fear gripped me. I came out of the bathroom, dressed hastily, barely drying my skin and hurried out to open the door. There was no servant in the house. Seraphina had ordered them out earlier. “What took you so long?” She barked. Before I could respond, she grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall. The pain was sharp and familiar. I was used to pain. I ran to the door and reached for the handle. When I opened the door, I froze. I had never seen this man before, he was a stranger. Tall. Well-dressed. Polished. His expensive clothing and commanding aura filled everywhere. For a brief moment, I wondered if this was Harrison—the name Seraphina often mentioned on her phone, the one she discussed endlessly with Calista. But before I could think further. “Ryan, darling,” Seraphina said sweetly. “I'm sorry I kept you waiting.” She beamed, smoothing her hair, eager to look perfect as she moved toward him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him softly on the cheek. I swallowed hard. “I don't have money to go out,” I said quietly. Seraphina whirled toward me, eyes burning with fury. “I don't have any either,” she replied harshly. Before she could speak again, the stranger reached into his pocket and pulled out a few dollar bill. Without a word he handed them to me. I froze. “Thank you,” I said softly, offering a sheepish smile. “You wouldn't have done that for her,” Seraphina said sharply, forcing a smile and leading him towards the stairs. The stranger was quiet as they vanished up the stairs. So this wasn't Harrison. It was Ryan. Gripping the bills tightly in my hand, I stepped out of the house, a quiet thought lingering in my mind.