Ava's pov-
The world didn't sleep anymore.
Not since Adrien disappeared.
Not since the second thread in Ava Langford's fragile life was cut clean from her trembling hands.
She stood at the edge of her office window, overlooking the city that bowed to her name—and she didn't blink. Her phone was clenched in her manicured fingers like a second heartbeat. Her heels clicked a slow, deliberate rhythm against the marble floor behind her.
Twelve cities.
Seven private investigators.
Interpol. Military-grade tech. A contact in cybercrime.
And still—nothing.
Nothing.
Just the sound of her own breathing, sharp and shallow, echoing between mirrored walls and glass tables. The silence had become a scream.
She'd heard his voice tonight.
Her baby. Her love. Her heart.
Just for a moment. Not even a name. But it was him.
And now she was losing her mind.
Her hands were shaking. No—she didn't allow that. Ava Langford didn't shake. Ava Langford moved. Like fire. Like fury. Like love in the shape of a storm.
She'd already bought off the Minister's aide. Tomorrow, she'd have drones scanning forested outskirts. After that, dogs. After that, blood. She would tear down every wall, every name, every law if she had to. There wasn't a country left that wouldn't bleed for her child if she told it to.
And Nolan—Nolan was there. Quiet. Steady. Offering her tea. Telling her to rest.
He even cried a little with her.
Held her hand.
He didn't flinch when she said, "If someone took my son, I will kill them myself."
He just nodded. Just squeezed her fingers and said, "And I'll help you bury them."
She almost smiled.
She didn't know he meant both of them.
The clock struck midnight.
Ava turned back to the table, pulling out the map again. Red pins. Black strings. Circled coordinates. Her lipstick was smudged on the rim of a wine glass she never touched. Her nails were chipped from digging through old boxes, Alex's files, his journals—anything.
And still—no trace of her baby. No trace of Alex.
She hadn't said his name in months.
But tonight… she had. On that call.
Just once.
I miss you. I miss you so much. I dream about you still, every night. I tell Adrien what kind of man his father was. I tell him how loved he is. How I will find him. I tell him…
She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth.
She never said Adrien's name, not even on the call. She just called him my baby.
Because to say his name… to say it out loud, without him here… it would shatter her.
The wind outside howled.
Ava turned back to her table of plans.
Tomorrow, she'd burn through a hundred more favors. Tomorrow, she'd have the mayor in her office. Tomorrow, she'd find the blood underneath the rug no one else knew existed.
Tonight, she stared out the window, past her own reflection—too hollow, too ghostlike—and whispered like a promise into the dark:
"I'm coming for you."
She didn't know Nolan was watching her from the hallway, eyes glinting.
And he didn't smile this time.
He clenched his jaw.
Because tonight—her love for her baby had made her too loud. Too strong. Too bright.
And Nolan was starting to hate her for it.