The Final Spark

AVA'S POV

The sirens faded into the distance, leaving a hush over the penthouse that felt louder than any alarm. I sat on the edge of Jaxon's bed, my fingers trembling against the silk sheet beneath me, replaying the image of Sienna's blood and Carter's vanishing act like a film on loop in my mind.

Jaxon was on the phone across the room, barking orders with a voice that could've broken steel. "I want the security footage pulled from every entrance. No, not just the building the whole damn block. And call Marcus tell him I needed answers an hour ago."

His jaw was clenched, a fresh bruise forming on the side of his cheek from the scuffle in the hall. He hadn't even looked in a mirror. He didn't care. He was in control mode nowfurious, focused, dangerous.

And yet, when his eyes finally met mine, the storm in them softened just for a beat.

"You okay?" he asked, crossing the room in long strides.

I nodded. "Physically, yeah. But… Sienna?"

"They've stabilized her," he said, kneeling in front of me. His hands gently took mine. "She's in surgery. The doctors say she's strong. She'll make it."

Tears prickled my eyes relief mingled with fear and something deeper. "I don't understand. Carter was your friend he saved you in Prague. Why would he"

Jaxon shook his head. "He didn't come for me. He came for you."

My heart thudded painfully. "What?"

"Everything changed the moment you walked into my world, Ava. You're not just someone planning my events anymore. You're the thread they're pulling to unravel me."

I pulled my hands away, suddenly cold. "Why? What do I have to do with any of this?"

He looked away for a moment, jaw tightening. "Because I'm not the only one who noticed you. And I'm not the only one who's wanted to own you."

The words sent a chill skittering down my spine.

I stood, suddenly needing space, air anything. "You're talking in riddles, Jaxon. What the hell is going on?"

"I'm trying to protect you!" he snapped. Then he stood, closing the distance again, his hands cradling my face with such care it nearly broke me. "But I need you to trust me, Ava. Even if it looks like I'm keeping secrets. Even if it feels like the whole world is turning upside down."

I searched his face, my own emotions in chaos. "That's not trust, Jaxon. That's blind faith."

He nodded slowly. "Then give me that, just for a little while."

A beat of silence passed between us, heavy with everything unspoken.

Then, the front door burst open again.

This time, it wasn't a stranger.

It was the last person I expected to see.

My mother.

And she wasn't alone.

She was holding a briefcase and a non-disclosure agreement with my name printed in bold letters across the top.

I stared at her, mouth slightly parted. "Mom?"

She looked nothing like the frail, weary woman I remembered leaving behind in Charleston. She wore heels that clicked with authority against the marble floor, a tailored black blazer, and red lipstick that hadn't smudged once. Her face was tight, unreadable. The briefcase in her hand was sleek. Corporate. Cold.

"I told you not to get involved with him," she said. Her voice was calm so calm, it was terrifying.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, heart pounding.

She placed the briefcase on the glass coffee table, right beside the remnants of blood-stained napkins and shattered nerves. Jaxon was at my side instantly, his posture coiled like a wolf scenting danger.

"You two are in over your heads," she said simply, opening the case with a click that echoed across the room.

Inside was a contract. Not Jaxon's. Not mine.

Hers.

"Ava, do you know who Jaxon really is?" she asked, lifting a single document and handing it to me like a warning. "Who his father was? What he inherited?"

I took the paper with trembling fingers. The words swam on the page, but two names jumped out:

Lawson & Cross Holdings, LLC.

"What the hell is this?" I whispered, scanning down.

A merger. Dated ten years ago. Co-signed by someone I hadn't seen in over a decade.

My father.

My stomach dropped. "No… no, that can't be right. Dad was a contractor. He built homes. He wasn't"

"He was bought out, Ava. He was bought out and silenced," my mother said, eyes narrowing. "By Jaxon's father. And when your father tried to walk away, he disappeared."

I turned to Jaxon, the paper shaking in my hand. "You knew?"

His face was carved from stone. "I didn't know about the connection until last week. When Carter resurfaced, I started digging."

"You didn't tell me?"

"I was going to," he said, voice low. "Tonight."

"Right before someone bled out in your hallway? How convenient."

Jaxon stepped closer. "Ava, don't do this. Your father made choices. My father made worse ones. But we are not them."

"Then why are their names on the same goddamn contract?" I shot back.

My mother's voice was quieter now, more haunted. "You need to come home. Before they bury you in this mess."

But home wasn't a place anymore. Not for me. It was memories. Pain. And a trail of secrets that kept leading straight back to the man standing in front of me.

"I'm not leaving," I said, though my voice cracked on the edges. "I need to know the truth. About everything."

Jaxon exhaled like I'd given him a second chance. "Then come with me."

I stared at him. "Where?"

"To the vault. My father's vault. The one no one talks about. The one that holds the real story."

My mother's face blanched. "No. Ava, don't."

I looked between them, two worlds colliding, past and present folding into each other like a cruel joke.

And then, from the hallway, Jaxon's security guard burst in, panting, pale.

"They found Carter."

Jaxon's eyes snapped to the man. "Where?"

The guard swallowed. "Dead. In your father's old estate."

I gasped.

But the guard wasn't done.

"He left a message. It's carved into the wall."

Jaxon tensed. "What did it say?"

The guard looked at me, his voice breaking slightly. "It says, She's next."

My breath caught in my throat.

She's next.

The room fell into silence, but it wasn't the peaceful kind it was the stillness of a loaded gun, cocked and waiting to explode. My body felt too tight for my skin, the weight of those two words branding themselves into my chest.

Jaxon moved first, his hand on my lower back as if shielding me. "We're leaving. Now."

"But what does it mean?" I asked, my voice raw. "Why would he why would Carter come back just to die? Why leave that message?"

My mother took a step forward. "Because he knew you were already in too deep. Ava, this isn't just about you and Jaxon. This is about legacy. About debts. About blood spilled for power."

I shook my head, feeling unmoored. "That doesn't make sense. Carter was he was a thief, not a killer."

Jaxon turned toward me, his voice low and grave. "You didn't know him like I did. Carter was more than a con man. He worked for my father for years. He handled the cleanup when things got messy."

My eyes widened. "What kind of cleanup?"

Jaxon didn't flinch. "The kind that never made the headlines. Carter knew secrets no one else did. But he also made enemies. If he came back here, he did it for a reason."

"To warn us," I whispered.

"Or to draw us out," my mother added sharply. "Which is why Ava needs to get on a flight and disappear before she becomes the next loose end."

I took a shaky breath and stepped out of Jaxon's protective hold. "No. I'm not running. I'm not disappearing. I've been in the dark for too long. I want the truth."

Jaxon's jaw clenched, but he nodded. "Then we go to the estate. Tonight."

"The estate where someone just died?" my mother snapped.

"Yes," Jaxon said. "Because whatever Carter left, he meant for Ava to find."

My mother threw her hands up. "You're insane. Both of you. You're walking straight into a trap."

I turned to her, calm but firm. "Then you can either come with us, or get out of our way."

She stared at me for a moment really looked at me and something flickered in her eyes. Pride. Or fear. Maybe both.

"You sound just like him," she said, voice hollow.

"Who?" I asked, but she didn't answer. She just walked out, her heels echoing down the hallway like a warning.

Within the hour, we were on the road, Jaxon driving like a man possessed. The night bled around us, headlights cutting through fog like knives. I sat beside him in silence, the tension between us thick and unspoken. My hand rested close to his on the gearshift, but neither of us moved.

"Are you scared?" he finally asked, eyes still on the road.

I swallowed hard. "Terrified."

"Good," he said. "Because fear keeps you sharp."

I turned my head. "And what about you? Are you scared?"

He was quiet for a beat. "Only of losing you."

The words struck something deep inside me something soft, raw, and completely unprepared.

We pulled up to the Cross estate an old mansion with towering stone walls and windows like hollow eyes. It had been abandoned for years, but the gate still creaked open with Jaxon's key code.

Inside, the house smelled of dust, rot, and something more metallic blood, I realized with a chill.

Jaxon led me down a long corridor, our footsteps muffled on the velvet runner. At the end of the hall was a library with floor-to-ceiling shelves and a single, broken window.

And there, on the far wall, was Carter.

Or what was left of him.

I covered my mouth, but no scream came out. His body had been staged—arms outstretched, legs bound. The message was carved into the drywall behind him in thick, jagged letters: SHE'S NEXT.

Jaxon approached the body slowly, grimly. "This wasn't just a message. It's a warning."

I couldn't move. Could barely breathe.

Then something caught my eye.

A flash drive.

Taped to Carter's jacket, hidden beneath the blood and shadows.

I reached out with trembling fingers and took it.

"What do you think is on it?" I whispered.

Jaxon looked at me, eyes hard. "Answers. Or a trap."

I clenched the drive in my hand like it was the only solid thing left.

And behind us, A floorboard creaked.

Jaxon spun around, his hand reaching instinctively for the concealed weapon at his back. I held my breath, every cell in my body screaming to run, but my feet were frozen to the worn carpet.

Silence.

Then, a shadow moved behind the far bookshelf.

Jaxon stepped in front of me, shielding me with his body. "Who's there?" he demanded, his voice sharp and deadly.

No answer.

He took a cautious step forward, weapon drawn now, eyes scanning. "Come out. Now."

Another shuffle.

I gripped the flash drive tighter, my pulse a thunderstorm in my chest. And then emerging slowly, hands raised came a figure I hadn't seen in years.

He was older. Thinner. Eyes sunken from time and guilt.

My breath caught in my throat.

"Dad?"

Jaxon lowered his weapon an inch, stunned.

My father stepped into the faint moonlight spilling through the broken window, his voice a low rasp. "I told Carter not to do this."

My knees buckled, but I didn't fall Jaxon's arm shot back and steadied me.

"You're alive," I whispered. "They said you were Mom said"

He looked directly at me, shame etched into every line on his face. "I had to disappear, Ava. There were things I couldn't protect you from unless I was gone."

Jaxon's voice cut in, sharp. "You were working with my father."

He didn't deny it.

"I made a deal," my dad said quietly. "Thought I could outsmart him. Thought I could keep your name off the list."

I stepped forward, the flash drive clutched between us like some cursed artifact. "What's on this?"

He looked at it and fear flickered through his expression.

"Proof," he said. "Everything Jaxon's father buried. Everyone he paid. Everyone who disappeared."

Jaxon's face was unreadable. "Including Carter."

"Yes," my dad said. "And me."

A silence fell. Dense. Electric.

Then Jaxon spoke, low and resolute. "We use it."

My father shook his head. "You can't. They'll kill her."

Jaxon's jaw flexed. "They'll try."

My hand found Jaxon's again. And this time, I didn't let go.

Because I knew now this wasn't just about bloodlines or secrets.

It was about survival.

And I was done running.