Tessa’s defiance faltered. Miranda’s cheeks flushed crimson. The whispers began again, but now they weren’t mocking—they were condemning.
Gabriel turned to Lucas. “If this is how you love her, then she’s better off without you.”
No one dared speak after that. The once-glamorous event crumbled into awkward silence. Guests began to slip out, leaving their champagne half-finished and their smiles frozen. The Harrington reputation, built on pretense, was unraveling before their eyes.
Later that night, Ava sat in the back seat of Gabriel’s car, the London skyline flickering past. Her mascara was smudged, but her gaze was steady. Adrian handed her a handkerchief.
“You should’ve called us sooner,” he said softly. “You don’t fight monsters alone.”
She shook her head. “I thought I could handle it. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.”
Gabriel met her eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re family. That’s never a mess—it’s a reason.”
For the first time in months, Ava let the tears fall. Not from shame this time, but from release. Every cruel word, every silent dinner, every fake smile—she let them go, one by one.