Chapter 67

Ava’s POV

I glared at the sleek, black car parked out front, grinding my teeth as irritation flared. Just seeing it there, polished to perfection, was enough to set me off. This entire situation was ridiculous. I was already furious with Isabella, and Grayson had managed to twist my foul mood into something darker.

“Wow, the car must have really pissed you off,” Mikayla said from beside me, her tone light, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. I rolled my eyes.

I sighed, shaking my head. “It’s not the car, Mikayla. It’s the person who sent it.”

“The billionaire?”

“How many times have I told you to stop calling him that?” I crossed my arms, frustration lacing my voice. “Yes, he’s the one I’m mad at. And now I’m even more furious because he’s throwing his money in my face, like that’s supposed to make everything better.”

Mikayla sighed dreamily, clearly unfazed by my frustration. “I wish someone would apologize to me with a car. I’d marry him on the spot.”

If only she knew. My mind raced back to how he’d orchestrated this spectacle, leaving strict orders with my supervisor to march me out here and deliver the smug message: Your husband says he doesn’t like you taking cabs, so here’s your new car. The way my supervisor had looked at me—terrified, like Grayson had threatened him—made my blood boil.

“Are you keeping the car?” Mikayla’s voice jolted me back to the present, and I turned to glare at her.

“Of course not.”

“So, can I have it?” She grinned, clearly enjoying this.

“No.”

She laughed, unfazed by my glare. “It was worth a shot. So, you’re sure you don’t want anything to do with the car or, you know, anything that might be on or in it?”

I sighed heavily, rubbing my temples. “Yes, Mikayla. I’m going to call and have them take it back. I’m not interested in whatever stunt he’s trying to pull.”

“Okay, then you won’t mind if I take this note I found stuck between the doors.” She held up a folded piece of paper, a glint of triumph in her eyes.

I blinked, my annoyance flaring. “What note?”

“Nuh-uh, Dr. Pierce. You said you didn’t want anything to do with it.” She unfolded the paper with exaggerated slowness, grinning. “Let’s see what it says, shall we?”

She cleared her throat and started reading in a mockingly serious tone, “‘Kings do not apologize—’”

I lunged forward, snatching the note from her hand before she could finish. She laughed, clearly enjoying the show. “Wow. All billionaires really are narcissists, huh? Lucky you, Dr. Pierce, at least he has good handwriting.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, fighting the urge to laugh despite my frustration. “I would ground you if I could.”

“But you can’t.” She waved dismissively, strolling off with a smug grin. “See you on the other side, Dr. Pierce!”

As she disappeared down the hallway, I turned the note over in my hands, feeling its weight grow heavier. For a moment, it felt like a hole in my palm, a symbol of everything I didn’t want to face. Without thinking, I tucked it into my pocket and headed back into the building, marching straight to my office.

Of course, when I opened the door, Isabella was waiting, sitting comfortably in one of the chairs as if she owned the place. Just what I needed.

“Hi,” she chirped, flashing a wide smile.

The nerve of her to smile at me after what she did. “Hello, Isabella.”

“Come on, Lilian. You know I hate it when you call me by my full name.”

I walked over to my desk, putting as much distance between us as I could. “Do you have an appointment or something?”

She rolled her eyes, her expression shifting into a glare. “Really? You’re going to be this petty about it?”

I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Isabella.”

She groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I’ve said I’m sorry a hundred times! I even sent a million texts last night and this morning apologizing! What more do you want from me? Fine, look—peace offering.” She pulled a container out of her bag with a triumphant grin. “I brought you ice cream.”

I glanced at the container and raised an eyebrow. “It’s empty.”

“No, it’s not—”

“Yes, it is,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I know you hate hospitals. They make you anxious, and ice cream calms you down, so you probably finished it on the way here.”

Her face fell as she let out a small, defeated huff. “Okay, fine. It is empty. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m really sorry, Lilian. I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and didn’t want to add more stress to your life. Then the whole thing with Rickon… I was mortified. I ended up as one of his flings, and I don’t know what I was thinking. And then to find out he’s my mate! The man’s slept with half the city. Lilian, I don’t… I don’t want him. But I should have told you.”

I studied her face, taking in her expression, the vulnerability she rarely showed. Despite my lingering annoyance, I felt myself softening. “Fine,” I said, sighing. “You know I can’t stay mad at you when you use that sad voice.”

She beamed. “Really? You forgive me?”

“Yes, Bels.”

She raised her hands in mock victory. “I’m Bels again!”

“You’re such a child,” I muttered, but I couldn’t help the smile that crept onto my face. Then, turning more serious, I added, “So you’re really not going to see anything through with Rickon? I don’t know him well, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Maybe the Moon Goddess didn’t make a mistake. Fate wouldn’t pair you with someone terrible.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Maybe I’d believe that if you hadn’t ended up with someone as awful as Dylan.”

I let out a defeated sigh. “Fair point. But still, maybe you should think it over. Get to know him a little, past his… reputation. He might surprise you.” I added, "And I'm still wondering why you didn't feel the connection when you first met him."

She blushed, looking anywhere but at me. “I don’t know. I think we’re both too closed off. Maybe it took… intimacy for the bond to actually awaken.” She paused, biting her lip. “It was great sex. But he’s still a player.”

“Of course he is.” I shook my head, amused. “So… any luck on getting a new job?”

Her eyes lit up, her expression immediately brightening. “Oh, Lilian, I had the best time this morning. I was called back, so I went in this morning, and you won’t believe what happened. These two jackasses got fired, and Rodrick Powell himself came down to apologize to me in person. Then he tripled my salary! You should have seen everyone’s faces!”

I felt my jaw drop. “That has Grayson written all over it.”

She shrugged, barely containing her grin. “Maybe it does. But who cares?”

I sighed, rubbing my forehead, wondering what on earth I’d gotten myself into. Then a thought struck me, and I narrowed my eyes at her. “Wait. Why did you agree to help him and set me up? I shouldn’t have forgiven you so easily.”

She had the audacity to flash me a shameless grin. “I did it for love, Lilian. You can’t fault me for that!”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I know,” she sang. “So… did you two work things out?”

I let out a frustrated groan. “No. And we won’t because he couldn’t even say ‘I’m sorry.’ Instead, he said, ‘This music is interesting,’ and he told me you told him to say that.”

Isabella shook her head in disbelief. “That man needs a serious reality check. Zero emotions, zero game. But you’ve got to give him credit; he got off his high horse and swallowed his pride for you. That’s got to count for something, right?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing she wasn’t wrong but not wanting to admit it. I opened my mouth to respond when, out of nowhere, my office door flew open. I whipped around to see Mikayla standing there, her face streaked with tears, her eyes wild and frantic.

My heart stopped. “What happened?” I moved around my desk, my stomach sinking.

She tried to speak, her voice a trembling whisper as she choked out, “My mum… her heart stopped. She’s not breathing.”

[The final 宙 character is likely a typo and has been omitted.]