Sleep was impossible.
The adrenaline from the confrontation with Cassandra had faded, leaving behind a humming, restless energy. Back in the condo, Kian was a machine, channeling his grim victory into preparation for the war to come. He was on the phone with his legal team, his voice low and lethal, orchestrating the final moves for the morning’s board meeting.
Audrey felt like a ghost in her own home. She paced the living room, the city lights a cold comfort. They had won. They had the confession, the proof. Beatrice’s reign was over.
But a deeper anxiety, a low, persistent thrum, remained. Cole’s text. The grainy photo of her in this very window. He can’t protect you forever.
She needed to breathe. She needed to be somewhere that was truly hers.
She walked over to Kian, who was now staring at a flowchart of the Sterling Industries board members on his tablet. He looked up, his eyes immediately softening as they met hers.
“I can’t sit still,” she said. “I’m going to go for a walk. Just for a few minutes.”
He stood, ready to argue, ready to send security with her.
“Please,” she said, placing a hand on his arm. “I just need some air. I’ll stay close. I just… I need to feel solid ground under my feet.”
He saw the truth in her eyes. This wasn’t about escaping. It was about grounding herself. He nodded slowly. “Keep your phone on. Call me if you even think you see something.”
“I will,” she promised.
But she didn’t walk around the block. The moment the cool night air hit her face, she knew where she had to go. She hailed a cab, her heart pulling her toward the one place that had always been her sanctuary.
The Metropolitan Arts Museum.
She let herself in with her curator’s key, the silence of the grand entrance hall wrapping around her like a familiar blanket. This was her world. A world of order, of history, of beauty preserved against the chaos of time.
A profound sense of peace settled over her. She walked through the darkened corridors, her footsteps echoing softly on the marble. She was heading for her exhibit. She wanted to see it, to stand before the Grecian amphora Kian had found for her. It was a symbol of their fight, of his love. A piece of ancient beauty that had survived millennia, now a beacon in her own turbulent story.
That’s when she heard it.
A sound that didn’t belong. A sharp, splintering crash that ripped through the sacred silence.
Her blood went cold. A security guard? An accident?
She picked up her pace, her heart starting to pound against her ribs. She rounded the final corner into the main gallery.
And stopped.
The world tilted on its axis. A strangled gasp escaped her lips, a sound of pure horror.
It was a war zone.
Glass from shattered display cases glittered like poisoned diamonds across the floor. Pedestals were overturned. Priceless nautical maps lay in heaps, slashed and torn. The tapestries she had so carefully sourced were ripped from their mounts, lying in shredded piles.
Her exhibit. Her life’s work. It wasn’t just damaged. It was annihilated.
Tears blurred her vision, hot and immediate. This was a violation. A desecration. Who could do this? Who could hate her this much?
And then she saw him.
A dark figure stood in the center of the devastation, illuminated by the single soft spotlight on the exhibit’s centerpiece.
Cole.
He held a metal pry bar in his hand, its sharp end dripping with the dust of priceless artifacts. He was breathing heavily, his expensive suit rumpled, his hair matted to his head. He looked like a cornered animal.
He hadn’t seen her yet. His entire focus, his entire being, was aimed at the one piece of the exhibit that remained untouched.
The Grecian amphora.
Kian’s gift. Their victory.
Cole raised the pry bar high over his head, his muscles straining. A guttural sound of pure rage tore from his throat.
“No,” Audrey whispered, the word barely audible. Then, finding a strength she didn’t know she possessed, she screamed it. “NO!”
Cole froze, the pry bar held aloft. He turned slowly, his eyes wide and wild. When he saw her, a strange, terrible smile spread across his face.
“Audrey,” he breathed. “You’re here. Good. You need to see this.”
“Cole… what have you done?” she stammered, taking an involuntary step back, her hand flying to her stomach. She was shielding her child from the monster she used to love.
“I’m fixing your mistake,” he said, his voice eerily calm, resonating with a terrifying, twisted logic. He gestured around at the ruin he’d created. “This was too much for you. The pressure. Sterling. He pushed you into this. I’m just… taking the pressure off.”
“You’re insane,” she whispered, her voice trembling. The sabotage. The anonymous complaints. The doctored photos. It was all him. It had always been him.
“Am I?” He took a step toward her, his shoes crunching on the shattered scrimshaw. “I’m the one who loved you. I’m the one who supported you. And you threw it all away for him. For his money. Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
“This has nothing to do with money,” she said, her fear giving way to a cold, hard anger. “This is about you. You can’t stand to see me happy. You can’t stand that I left you.”
“I’m saving you!” he shouted, the calm facade cracking to reveal the raw fury beneath. “When the insurance investigators find this mess, who do you think will be here to help you? To protect you from the scandal? It won’t be him. He’ll abandon you, just like he abandoned that other woman. But I’ll be here. I’m always here for you.”
The lie was so complete, so delusional, it stole her breath. He had created the crisis so he could be the hero.
She stared at the man before her, the charming, handsome man she had once planned a future with, and saw nothing but rot. He was a poison she had finally, blessedly, purged from her system.
“It’s over, Cole,” she said, her voice ringing with finality in the desecrated hall. “Everything you did. All the lies. It’s over.”
His face contorted, the smile vanishing, replaced by a mask of pure hate. He looked from her, to her hand on her stomach, and then to the amphora behind him. He understood. He had lost. He had lost her, lost the baby, lost everything.
His grip tightened on the pry bar.
He lowered it slowly. The destruction of the exhibit was no longer the point. The symbol of her love for Kian was no longer the target.
She was.
“No,” he said, his voice a low, dangerous growl. “It’s not over.”
He took another step toward her, closing the distance between them. He was blocking the only exit.
“It’s not over until I say it is.”