---- Chapter 7 Later that day, Ava's phone started pinging with DMs from Chloe. "Just tasted the most divine champagne for MY party, Ava. You would have loved it. Pity you're not involved. ;) " Followed by a photo of an expensive bottle. Then another: "Mark is being SO sweet, helping me with every little detail. He says my vision is inspiring." And another, a close-up of a new diamond bracelet on Chloe's wrist: "Early launch gift from my biggest supporter. Isn't he the best?" Each message was a deliberate, cruel taunt. Rage. Disgust. Profound hurt. Chloe would send them, then quickly unsend them, a classic gaslighting tactic. Then came the final, brutal image. A selfie of Chloe, in what was unmistakably Ava and Mark's master bedroom, wearing one of Mark's shirts, nothing else visible. Her hair was tousled, a smug, sleepy look on her face. The implication was clear. Shock. Disgust. The ultimate confirmation of his infidelity, flaunted in her face. Ava, her hands shaking with a cold fury, screen-recorded everything. Every message, every photo, before Chloe could ---- make them disappear completely. Calculated anger. Determination. She would not let this woman win. Ava called Mark's assistant. "Tell Mr. Thompson my answer regarding Ms. Davis's party is no. And it will always be no." Defiance. She knew the consequences. An hour later, Sarah called, her voice strained. "Ava... Mark sold his shares in the kitchen project. To a competitor. We've lost it" Loss. Anger. Mark sent a text: "Sorry it had to be this way, Ava. Just temporary. Once Chloe's brand is huge, I'll reinvest, help you get something even bigger. You'll see." Cynicism. Disgust. He still thought he could play God with her life, her dreams. Ava realized then, with chilling clarity, that Mark had no empathy, no care for her feelings whatsoever. The man she had loved, the father of her child, was a monster of selfishness. The past affection she'd felt for him was a distant, poisoned memory. Ava thought about Mark's architectural firm. He had a rival, James Peterson, who Mark had undercut on a major project years ago. James was ambitious and held a grudge. Ava called James. ---- "Mr. Peterson, this is Ava Rodriguez, Mark Thompson's... ex- wife. | have a significant block of shares in Thompson Architects, from our initial joint investment and divorce settlement. I'm looking to sell them. Are you interested?" Calculated revenge. Strategic planning. She named her price and one condition: "The sale must be announced publicly, very soon." James Peterson was silent for a moment, then a low whistle. "Ms. Rodriguez, you have my attention. And yes, | am very interested." Surprise. Opportunism. He knew this was a blow to Mark. A few days later, James Peterson sauntered into Mark's office. "Heard you're having a big party for your new... partner, Mark," James said, a smirk playing on his lips. "Hope it goes well. Wouldn't want any... unexpected business developments to overshadow it. You still feeling confident about Ava's loyalty?" Provocation. Foreshadowing. Mark scoffed. "Ava? She'll come around. She always does. She loves me too much to ever truly hurt my business." Arrogance. Self-deception. He was blind to the changes in Ava. Ava decided Leo needed a break, some normalcy. She booked a campsite at a nearby state park for the weekend. Fresh air, s'mores, away from the city's toxicity. She wanted to see him smile, to hear him laugh without a shadow in his eyes. ---- They were setting up their tent when Chloe and Maya appeared, Maya clutching a brand-new, expensive-looking tablet. Chloe marched over, Maya trailing behind her, already whining. "My tablet's almost dead! And there's no Wi-Fi here! This place sucks!" Maya wailed Chloe ignored her, eyes fixed on Ava's cooler. She brazenly opened it, rummaged inside, and pulled out the gourmet hot dogs and artisanal marshmallows Ava had packed. "Oh, these look good. Maya, honey, want a fancy hot dog?" Anger. Frustration. Violation. Ava stepped forward. "Chloe, what do you think you're doing? Those are ours." She moved to shield Leo, who looked scared. Protectiveness. Anger. Chloe laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound. "Relax, Ava. Mark said we could join you. He's just parking the car. And he said you wouldn't mind sharing. We're practically family, right?" Arrogance. Manipulation. She claimed entitlement, boasting of Mark's unwavering support. "Get your hands off our food, Chloe," Ava said, her voice low and dangerous. "And get away from my son." Fury. A clear threat. Chloe's eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to Ava, who was standing near a steep, rocky embankment. ---- "Or what, Ava? You going to push me?" And then, Chloe stumbled - or pretended to - and lunged, shoving Ava hard. Shock. Pain. Violence. Ava cried out as she lost her balance, tumbling down the rough slope, rocks and branches tearing at her skin and clothes. Chloe immediately started screaming. "Mark! Mark, help! Ava attacked me! She pushed me!" She knelt by the edge of the embankment, feigning terror and concern, the perfect victim Manipulation. Deceit. Mark came running, his face a mask of fury. He didn't even glance at Ava, struggling at the bottom of the slope. He went straight to Chloe, fussing over her. "Ava! What the hell is wrong with you? Are you crazy? Attacking a pregnant woman!" Pregnant? Ava's mind reeled. Chloe was pregnant? Injustice. Betrayal. He immediately blamed her. Leo, brave Leo, ran to the edge. "No, Daddy! Chloe pushed Mommy! | saw it!" Child's innocence. Loyalty. Maya, coached well, started sobbing. "Mommy just wanted a hot dog and Ava got mad and p-pushed her and said she hopes the b-baby dies!" ---- Manipulation. Disgust. An even more extreme, fabricated lie. Mark exploded. "That's IT!" He grabbed Leo's arm, yanking him away from the edge. "You are a liar, just like your mother! I've had enough of both of you! I'm taking Leo. He's not safe with you when you're like this! I'm getting emergency custody!" Fury. Profound injustice. Fear gripped Leo. He was taking her son. Leo cried out, terrified. "Mommy! Mommy, help me! | don't want to go with him!" Child's terror. Helplessness. Ava, bruised and bleeding, scrambled up the embankment. "Mark, no! You can't! He's lying!" Desperation. Powerlessness. But Mark was already dragging a hysterical Leo towards his car. He threw Ava one last hateful glare. "Stay away from us, Ava. You're unhinged." He drove off, leaving Ava alone, injured, and her son stolen from her.