**Chapter 20: Turmoil and Tension** Rowan. I found myself seated at my desk, surrounded by a mountain of papers demanding my attention, yet my focus eluded me like a whispering ghost. My thoughts were ensnared once more by the painful reality that Ava had once again brushed off my call. It was only through Lydia’s diligent updates that I had any inkling of her current state. Otherwise, she might as well have vanished from the earth. How drastically she had transformed! The Ava I once knew had faded into oblivion, replaced by a stranger clad in a new attitude, one that left me grappling with emotions I thought I’d long discarded. When Emma announced her return, a wave of dread washed over me. The specter of past troubles haunted my mind, fearing Ava might resurrect the chaos of her teenage years, a nuisance eager to wreak havoc. But to my surprise, she kept her distance—an unexpected relief that twisted my insides. Why did it unsettle me so? The way her absence consumed my thoughts was infuriating, an unwelcome reminder of how intertwined our lives had once been. Eventually, I surrendered to the futility of my concentration and rose from my chair. I moved toward the window, glancing out as if searching for clarity, a way to exorcise Ava from my consciousness. “Sir, the chief inspector has arrived,” Christine, my diligent secretary, broke into my reverie. So lost was I in contemplation that I hadn’t even noticed her enter. “Let him in,” I instructed, turning briefly to face her before reclaiming my seat. Brian, the chief inspector, entered just as I settled down. A handshake exchanged, and he took a seat across from me, his expression grave. “Anything new?” I asked, the words laced with both hope and anxiety. At around sixty years old, Brian maintained a surprising vigor and sharpness that belied his age. A retired detective, his tenure in the army had shaped him into a determined investigator. “Not yet… We are still at a standstill. The gang remains elusive, and there’s nothing linking them to the two incidents involving your ex-wife.” Since James's tragic shooting, Brian and I had forged a close partnership in navigating this dark labyrinth. The gang had seemingly vanished underground, leaving us with nothing but shadows and speculation. “There has to be some thread we can pull on, anything at all that reveals why they’ve targeted Ava,” I asserted, frustration boiling beneath my surface. Ava had been right; the gang shouldn’t have any reason to pursue her. Considering our tangled histories, it would make more sense for them to pursue Emma. The logic felt muddled, as if we were chasing ghosts. “I wish I could offer better news, Mr. Wood, but these individuals are professionals. They know how to cover their tracks. There hasn’t been a single clue at the crime scenes; we don’t even have a starting point,” he replied through gritted teeth. This stalemate gnawed at Brian as well. He was a stalwart in his field, never having left a case unsolved. The lack of actionable intel was a source of frustration for us both. “Do you think we could see a repeat of the previous incidents?” My voice lowered, challenging the daunting prospect. “Hard to say. If we analyze the patterns of recent weeks, the likelihood does point to a continuation of threats against Miss Sharp. Until either she is harmed or the culprits apprehended, we can expect this peril to remain.” His words sent a chill racing down my spine. The memory of the two times Ava had teetered on the edge of death haunted me, reminding me that a dangerous cloud loomed persistently above her. Standing abruptly, I dismissed him. “Keep me informed if anything changes.” Brian stood, shaking my hand once more. “You can count on it.” With that, he exited my office, leaving me once again alone with the swirling thoughts of my ex-wife. I snatched my phone and dialed Christine without a moment’s hesitation. Her voice was immediate, crisp, and efficient as always. “Send Drake up,” I ordered, cutting the conversation short. Moments later, Drake, the imposing leader of my security team, entered my office with an air of authority. “You called, boss?” His voice, deep and gravelly, carried the weight of his past—a throat injury that had forever altered his vocal cords. “I need you and two others on Ava, twenty-four-seven. Within striking distance if any trouble arises, but far enough to avoid her notice.” Drake’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Is she still in danger?” “According to Brian… not a second should she be out of your sight. I want her safe at all costs.” He nodded, brow still stitched with skepticism. “Understood, boss.” “Good,” I affirmed, and he left the room, his footsteps echoing with questions I could almost hear unspoken. It was ironic, really. Everyone knew I had never particularly cared for Ava. Our marriage had been just a chapter in a story of forgotten connections. I had influence, enemies lurking in the shadows, yet I had never seen fit to shield her, unlike Noah, who had always seemed to prioritize her safety. Ava had even questioned my indifference. Why the sudden concern for her well-being? I was lost in that same perplexity. Why did her life suddenly hold so much weight in my heart? Exhaling heavily, I rubbed my temples as fatigue washed over me. Glancing at my watch, I noted that it was six o’clock. I had plans to meet Travis and Gabe for drinks in half an hour. After collecting the papers scattered across my desk, I stepped out of my office. The tension within me must have radiated, as none of my staff dared to wish me a good evening. I arrived at the club just in time, slipping into the private section we had established—one of the many exclusive venues that Gabe and I co-owned. “Finally! Can you deal with him?” Gabe snapped, his impatience bubbling over. He downed his drink, eyeing Travis with an expression of annoyance. “What’s happening?” I asked, concern flashing briefly over me. Travis looked as if the world had crumbled around him. “I visited Ava a few days ago, and she kicked me out, telling me I should consider her dead, that I should forget I have a sister,” he admitted, his voice filled with distress. “What the hell is going on with her?” I was baffled. This was not the Ava I once knew. “Are you surprised?” Gabe interjected dismissively. “Years of treating her like dirt, thinking she would stay grateful? You really think she wouldn’t finally draw the line?” As I absorbed Gabe’s words, my frown deepened. Despite his usual indifference, even he hadn’t been cruel to Ava—he had merely chosen to ignore her. “You guys have pushed her away too many times. Of course she wants nothing to do with you now, given everything that’s happened,” Gabe continued, taking another hefty swig from his glass. “But I’m trying to make amends! How can things change if she won’t even let me in?” Travis’s voice hinted at desperation. “You all are missing the point,” Gabe retorted, his eyes narrowing. “When a wounded animal feels threatened, what do they do? They act out, lash out—defensive, protecting what little is left of themselves. Ava is just doing the same thing, shielding her damaged heart from those who've hurt her the most.” “Especially from the ones who inflicted the pain in the first place,” I chimed in, a realization dawning on me. “Exactly. You can’t fault her for that instinct,” Gabe concluded, and a heavy silence enveloped us. The weight of my own conscience was a tangible burden, pressing against my chest. Here we were, grappling with truths I had long avoided. I was all too aware of how my actions had scarred Ava, yet I continued down this path of shallow absolution. After all this time, I was finally feeling the bitterness of my choices. “How does it feel to taste your own medicine?” a voice within me whispered, sharp and accusatory. Bitter. That was how it felt. To know that the cold indifference she once received from me had now transformed into the very same chilling reality I was experiencing. She needed support, yet she continued to push me away, a barricade I felt powerless to overcome. “Emma has arrived,” Gabe suddenly announced, dragging me from my spiraling thoughts. “Who the hell invited her?” I growled, irritation bubbling inside. Both Travis and Gabe turned to me, confusion painting their features. “She heard I was meeting with you guys and decided to pop by to see you,” Travis shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. I groaned audibly, frustration rising within me. Emma’s presence was the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. It was comical, really. The vision of Emma and I reconciling had once filled my thoughts, yet with her return, she felt more like an irritant than a partner. Sure, there were moments where our chemistry flowed seamlessly, reminding me of a time when things felt right. But more often than not, those moments were overshadowed by an uncomfortable tension, a sense of forced connection. She was meant to be my love, my forever—but why did every interaction feel so inherently wrong?