Sebastian's POV
She said she was tired.
Said she was going to bed early with a headache. Kissed my cheek like always, clung to me for a second too long like always, whispered her usual, "Goodnight, Seb."
Only I didn't miss the slight tremor in her hands. Or how she didn't look me in the eye.
I waited.
An hour.
Then another.
House dead silent. Dobermans asleep. New York blinking outside like a breathing, pulsing machine.
And then—movement.
Ava's door creaked open so softly I almost didn't catch it.
But I did.
Because I wasn't asleep either.
She didn't know I installed motion sensors last month when I was in Britain. Cameras too. It's not that I didn't trust her.
No, scratch that.
It was exactly because I didn't trust the world around her.
She padded down the hallway, black hoodie covering her hair, phone clutched tight, boots silent.
She slipped out the side entrance like she'd done it a hundred times.
I followed—ten minutes later. Quiet. Invisible. Every instinct in me coiled tight.
She thought she was clever. Took the back road, helmet on, bike roaring like a devil's growl. My little girl riding a machine too fast for the world, too dangerous for her bones.
I tailed her in the black BMW. Headlights off. Windows up. Heart racing.
She didn't go to a friend's house like she used to tell me.
She went to the club.
Again.
It was a posh one downtown—red lighting, velvet ropes, music like a heartbeat on steroids.
She knew the bouncer.
That part nearly made me rip the steering wheel in half.
He nodded, let her in like she was royalty. She looked like sin itself—tight dress under the hoodie, heels pulled from her bag, lipstick applied in the line.
My Ava.
No. Not my Ava.
The one inside that club? I didn't know her.
She danced. Threw her head back. Drank something dark and golden. Laughed too loud. Swore with her friends. Lit a cigarette and smoked it like she'd been doing it for years.
My fists curled.
Then—
A boy approached her.
Blonde. English. Handsome. Older.
My vision tinted red.
He leaned in, said something. She smirked.
And for a second, I swear I forgot how to breathe.
But she didn't kiss him. Just laughed. Threw his drink in his face. Walked off.
Thank God.
I could've killed him. I still might.
I waited till she left.
She got back on the bike at 3:27 a.m.
Helmet on. Wind in her hair.
I followed all the way home.
Parked around the corner.
Watched her sneak in. Same path. Same soft footsteps. Same little victory smile when she made it back to her room.
She thought she was invincible.
She thought I didn't know.
She thought this little game was hers alone to play.
But she forgot one thing—
I'm Sebastian Chen.
And she's still mine.
No matter how far she runs.
No matter how fast.
No matter who she becomes when the lights go down.