At PowerLunchers,

"If people outside learn how you rip them off, no one will work with you," Aveline repeated Theodore's words in a low voice, her tone laced with mockery. "Wasn't that a threat, Chairman Marston?"

She leaned forward, eyes glinting. "Then how about this? What if I let the world know I filed a lawsuit?"

She let her words slowly sink in for Theodore before she continued.

"Your stock price plunges to an all-time low. Your shareholders demand answers. The vultures will circle you, and the chairmanship slips from your grasp. Your brand new branch shuts down overnight."

She paused, as she slowly leaned back on her chair, her lips curving as she tilted her head. "Third takedown in my name. Nice."

Theodore's chest tightened, his fear twisting sharper. Her words weren't just bluffs. They carried the weight of someone already digging into him and his details. And the results if the information leaked were going to be what she uttered.

"You're not here for negotiation, are you?" He asked through his teeth. He had thought his experience would outshine her. But clearly, they were outmaneuvered by her.

Aveline gave a delicate shrug, as if the matter was trivial. "Wasn't negotiation meant to be about how you would hand me a billion? A bit of cash, a few shares… Maybe a cargo ship?" Her wide eyes feigned innocence.

Her deliberate act was as infuriating as her shrewdness. "Don't act. That doesn't suit you." Theodore snapped, his composure cracking.

Her expression shifted instantly. The softness gone, coldness surfaced. "You say that after acting like a humble, good businessman?" she sneered.

Her words cut deeper. Theodore's stomach turned. She had never believed him. From the very beginning, she had seen through his mask and knew he was after something.

Despite knowing how smart she was, he still underestimated her and overestimated himself.

He rose abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. A sharp scoff left his lips. "You are one cunning, shrewd, crafty woman…" he hissed before storming out.

Aveline blinked at his retreating back, her lips twitching. "Did he just compliment me?" she asked under her breath. She chuckled softly and quietly whispered, "Thank you."

Theodore's lawyers flustered when they met Aveline's eyes. But they were quick to gather themselves. "We'll need a week to arrange the funds," one said cautiously.

Aveline's lawyer gave a curt nod. "Very well." They gathered their things and left the room, leaving her in thoughtful silence.

Aveline breathed slowly. Honestly, she hadn't guessed Theodore Marston's schemes but she did doubt his actions from the beginning. And that led her to be prepared for the worst and the worst happened.

She just learned that being prepared for the worst wasn't a waste of time or effort but a safety.

She pulled out her phone from her bag and dialed. "Nolan? What time are you visiting the vendor? I'm…" Her words halted when her gaze caught sight of a man casually leaning against a pole, across the street.

She stood up and got closer to the glass wall, her eyes narrowing at the man in a rundown jacket. Worn shoes. A cap pulled low. His face was the same as she had seen in prison.

A light stubble shadowed his jaw, the familiar smirk stretching his lips while watching her. And then he smiled. A smile meant to provoke her.

[…Hello… hello…] Nolan's voice echoed faintly from her phone.

Aveline ended the call without a word, her eyes never leaving the man. She didn't dare blink. If she did, he might vanish again.

Her lips parted. She had brushed off the previous incidents as stress-induced. But she had been busy a moment ago, not a thought of Damien lingering in her mind. Then why did he appear before her eyes?

Was she truly so affected by him, that she had buried him somewhere deep in her subconscious?

Her shaking hand swiped on the mobile screen, "Call Alaric," she commanded without looking away, her eyes fixed on the man, her supposed illusion.

"Calling Alaric," the voice assistant replied, the dial tone starting. She pressed the phone to her ear, refusing to blink.

[Sunshine…] His voice came gentle and warm.

"I'm seeing him… again." Her voice wasn't as steady as she felt.

The warmth in his voice vanished, turning sharp with concern. [Where?]

"Across the road. In front of a café. I don't want to blink… he'll disappear again." Her words trembled, breathless.

[What is he wearing?] He asked, his tone focused.

"A black beanie. Black jacket. Blue jeans. Black boots. He just turned… entered the building… I can't see him anymore…." She took a shallow breath, "Why am I seeing him again?" Her voice broke slightly at the end, the question torn from somewhere vulnerable.

Then her eyes caught movements. A man dashed into the building. She guessed him to be the man appointed by Alaric to protect her from shadows.

Holding her breath, she hopefully looked at the same entrance.

She didn't care if it was some replica of Damien or Damien himself. She just wanted to make sure she was fine, mentally.

Within seconds, he dragged someone out. But her chest sank the next second. That man wore the same clothes head to toe, but it wasn't Damien. He was somebody else.

Her eyes stung, filling up. For a moment, she had hoped for too much, hoped for proof that she wasn't losing her grip on reality.

[Sunshine?] Alaric's voice broke through the silence, gentler now.

"I guess… I'm truly imagining Damien." Aveline's lips trembled as she whispered it, the admission tasting bitter.

She blinked hard, trying to keep the tears from falling. Her chest tightened, shame pricking at her.

Was she losing control to the ghost of Damien, letting him haunt her in broad daylight?

Her fingers gripped the phone tighter. "Alaric… I don't want to see him."

The silence stretched for a moment, heavy with unspoken understanding. Then his voice came firm and grounding. [He broke you once. You're still healing from that. But listen to me, Sunshine, he cannot reach you anymore.]

He tried to assure her with certainty that Damien couldn't hurt her. He couldn't get close to her. He was behind bars, his freedom stripped away.

Aveline shut her eyes briefly. The rims of her eyes and tip of her nose had turned red, betraying her attempt at composure.

'I'm not fragile. I won't let Damien's shadow affect my present.' She told herself. Still, her pulse raced, her breath uneven.

"I wasn't even thinking of him," she murmured, as if confessing to herself. "I was busy, focused on my work and then… suddenly, I saw him. His provoking smile. It felt… too real."

[Sunshine,] Alaric said, steel threading through his voice. [Stay exactly where you are. I'm coming to you.]

Her gaze drifted back across the street. Both men were gone. Her eyes lingered on the spot where she had seen Damien.

The world outside carried on, unaware of the storm inside her head.

Her heart clenched with one thought: 'Is Damien still holding power over me even after everything?'

That gave rise to more questions. One of them was, hadn't she moved on?

She swallowed hard, whispering into the phone, "If it's really just my imagination… why does it hurt like he's still here, unpunished?"

Alaric's silence stretched across the line. He had no easy answer for her questions.

She sighed, her shoulders sinking. "I'll wait for you."

….

Half an hour later,

After fighting through the city's traffic, Alaric stepped into PowerLunchers. His gaze found her instantly. Two empty coffee cups sat before her. Her expression appeared calm, but her eyes held the storm within.

A waiter, balancing a fresh cup of coffee, walked towards her. Alaric interrupted him with a curt, "Take it away." His tone left no room for hesitation.

The waiter blinked, then obeyed.

Aveline quietly rose, her arms wrapping around him the second he reached her side. The embrace was wordless, but it carried everything she hadn't been able to express.

Alaric's hand lifted to her hair, a steadying touch. "Do you want to rest?" he murmured. "Should we see the psychologist?"

Her silence stretched again. Then she pulled back, her face pale but resolved. "I think I should visit. Are you free?"

He nodded without hesitation. Ezra could handle the company. Right now, nothing mattered to him more than her well-being.

…

In the car,

They attempted to start a conversation and they died. Both tried, but neither could find the right words. Yet the silence between them held more comfort than any forced conversation could have.

….

In Lancaster mansion,

Seraphina scrolled through the photos on her mobile. Each image captured Aveline rather well, shocked, clutching her coffee as though the cup could ground her.

Seraphina's lips curled in triumph, but the smirk faltered when the last few pictures appeared.

Alaric.

He walked in, shielding Aveline with his presence. Then taking her away to her psychologist.

Seraphina's smile turned bitter, her fingers gripping her mobile tighter. She dialed a string of numbers, her voice low and cold.

"You can't get caught. Go back and wait for my instructions."

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