The slap she anticipated never came. Ave braced for it , muscle memory from a life she didn't remember living, every nerve ending screaming but Denise just stood there breathing hard. With his fists clenched at his sides.
Suddenly, he burst out then .....he laughed.
It was a terrible sound. Void of emotions, like something breaking underwater.
"You think you're clever." He set her laptop down on the desk with exaggerated care. Precise. Controlled. "You think this is a game."
Ave's jaw throbbed where she'd bitten through her cheek. The copper taste was still thick on her tongue. She kept her spine straight, chin up, even as her legs trembled beneath her.
"Never let them see you break."
"I think," she said slowly, "that you brought armed men into our home without telling me why."
"Our home?" Denise's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Interesting choice of words." He circled the desk, each footstep deliberate. Measured.
"Last time I checked, the deed had my name on it. The mortgage, the cars, the credit cards you use to buy your overpriced coffee and your little charity outfits."
He stopped in front of her. Close enough that she could smell his cologne, which was something suffocating.
"Everything you have, Ave. Every single thing. Who provides that?"
Ave's throat was dry. Her hands wanted to shake, but she locked them at her sides. She thought of Viktor's expressionless face. Her mother's cold voice.
"The second you let them own your fear....."
"You do," she said quietly.
"That's right." Denise reached past her, so close she flinched, and picked up her phone from the desk.
"I do."
He held it up between them. Her entire life, glowing behind a cracked screen protector.
"Who were you talking to, Ave?"
"A friend."
"What friend?"
"Does it matter?"
His jaw tightened. For a moment, something dangerous flickered across his face. Then it smoothed over, replaced by that same terrible calm.
"Give me your hand."
"What?"
"Your hand. Give it to me."
Ave's stomach dropped. Every instinct screamed at her to refuse, to run, but there was nowhere to go. The tactical team still waited in the hallway, shadows with guns.
Slowly, she extended her left hand. Denise took it gently. His thumb traced across her wedding ring…..platinum, two carats, exactly what a man of his position should give his wife.
"Do you remember our vows?" His voice was soft now. Almost tender.
"For better or worse. In sickness and health." He looked up, met her eyes.
"I meant every word, Ave. Every single one."
"So did I."
"Then trust me." He squeezed her hand. "Trust that I'm doing this to protect you."
Before she could respond, he released her and stepped back.
"Leo," he called toward the hallway.
One of the tactical team members appeared in the doorway. Except now he was just a man in an expensive suit with no weapons visible. Tall, broad-shouldered. With the kind of face that was handsome in a forgettable way.
Something cold slithered down Ave's spine.
"Sir," Leo said. His voice was flat, professional and empty.
Denise gestured at the desk.
"Her phone, her laptop, the tablet in the bedroom. All of it."
"Denise—" Ave started.
"And the credit cards." He pulled his wallet from his jacket, extracted a black American Express.
"You can keep this one for emergencies only. I'll be monitoring the charges."
Leo moved past her, collecting devices.
Ave watched it happen. Her connection to the outside world disappear just like that.
"This is insane," she whispered.
"This is marriage." Denise pocketed his wallet. "You seem to have forgotten that we're a team, Aveline. We don't keep secrets from each other."
"You brought armed men into our house without warning me—"
"To protect you."
"From what?"
He studied her for a long moment. Something moved behind his eyes, concern, something else she couldn't name.
"From yourself," he said quietly. "From whoever's been filling your head with ideas." He glanced at Leo. "She has a charity luncheon tomorrow. The children's hospital fundraiser. Make sure she gets there."
Leo nodded once. "Sir."
"Wait." Ave's voice came out sharper than intended. "What does that mean, 'make sure'?"
Denise was already moving toward the door. He paused at the threshold, looked back.
"It means Leo will be your driver for the foreseeable future. For appointments. Errands. Anywhere you need to go." His smile was gentle. Kind, even. The smile of a man who loved his wife and only wanted what was best for her.
"Until you remember who you can trust."
Then he was gone.
Leo finished collecting her devices in silence. When he straightened, Ave expected him to leave immediately, but he lingered at the doorway. Waiting.
"Is there anything else you need tonight, Mrs. Whitmore?"
The question sounded genuine.But there was something underneath it. A warning, maybe , or a test.
Ave forced herself to meet his eyes.They were empty. The eyes of a man who would do whatever he was told without question or hesitation.
The eyes of someone who'd been trained to be forgettable.
"No," she managed. "Nothing."
Leo nodded and left.
Ave stood alone in the study, surrounded by the debris of her evening. Scattered papers. The dark computer screen. The empty space on the desk where her phone had been.
Her hands were shaking now. Really shaking. She pressed them against the desk, leaned forward, focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out.
"Never let them own your fear."
But what happened when they owned everything else?
----------------------
The next morning arrived ,Ave dressed carefully.She applied makeup , covering the shadows under her eyes, the hollow look that had nothing to do with lack of sleep.
When she came downstairs, Denise was already gone. No note or any text. Just an empty coffee cup in the sink and the faint scent of his cologne.
Leo was waiting by the front door.
"Good morning, Mrs. Whitmore." He held out a to-go cup from her favorite coffee shop. The exact order she always got. Oat milk latte, extra shot, no foam.
"I thought you might need this."
"Thank you," she said instead.
The drive to the Four Seasons was silent. Leo kept his eyes on the road, hands at ten and two, the picture of professional efficiency. The morning sun slanted through the windshield, too bright, too cheerful for the weight pressing down on Ave's chest.
They were fifteen minutes from the hotel when Leo spoke.
"He loves you, you know."
Ave's head snapped toward him. "What?"
"Mr. Blanco." Leo's voice was still flat and toneless.
"He loves you. In his way."
"His way," Ave repeated.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And what way is that, exactly?"
Leo was quiet for a moment. Then: "The way powerful men love. Completely. Absolutely." He glanced at her in the rearview mirror. His eyes were still empty.
"But they don't like to share."
Ave's coffee had gone cold in her hands.
"Is that a threat?"
"It's advice." He turned his attention back to the road. "Stop poking the bear, Mrs. Blanco."
The words landed like ice water.
"Stop poking the bear."
The same thing her mother used to say when Ave….no, Ravena….pushed too hard during training. Questioned too much. Fought back when she should have submitted.
"You can be right, or you can survive. Choose wisely."
The Four Seasons appeared ahead, all glass and luxury and people who never had to think about whether their husbands were monitoring their credit cards.
Leo pulled up to the valet stand and stopped. Neither of them moved.
"I'll be here when you're done," he said. "However long it takes."
Ave stared at the hotel entrance. At the other women in their designer dresses and their careful smiles, playing their roles in this theater of wealth and influence.
She could go in there. Smile, make small talk or pretend everything was fine.
Or she could run.
But run where? With what money? What resources? Denise had taken everything. Her phone, laptop and financial independence.
Everything except the one thing he couldn't control.Whatever was waking up inside her head.
Ave set down the cold coffee. Smoothed her dress and checked her reflection in the mirror….composed, elegant, exactly what a woman like Ave Blanco should be.
Then she opened the car door.
"Mrs. Whitmore."
She looked back.
Leo's expression hadn't changed. But something flickered in his eyes. Recognition, maybe or respect.
"Be smart," he said quietly.
Ave smiled.
"Always," she said.
And walked into the hotel.