Chapter 24 Ava
Chapter twenty-four
Ava
The shop is quiet.
Rain taps gently at the windows. The bell over the door hasn’t chimed in over an hour. I should be enjoying the stillness—savoring it. But I feel it again.
That invisible weight. Like someone’s watching.
Sophia didn't come in today. Mia is running the front, humming again, a little lighter now after yesterday’s awkward not-quite date. I’m in the back office, sorting invoices, when I see it.
A small, cream-colored envelope. No return address. Propped against my mug like a casual afterthought.
I didn’t hear anyone come back here. I didn’t leave the door open.
My skin goes cold. I slide it open with trembling fingers.
It’s a photo. Of me. From yesterday. I’m outside, smiling.
Holding Elijah’s hand. His head is turned toward me, half-laughing.
It’s a sweet photo. Romantic. Until you realize I never posed for it.
Never saw a camera. Underneath the photo is a note.
The room tilts slightly.
I don’t even realize I’ve texted Elijah until he’s calling me.
“Where are you?” he asks, his voice tight.
“In the office,” I whisper.
“Lock the door. I’m almost there.”
Elijah storms in like thunder—no words, just a grim look and soaked shoulders.
I hand him the envelope.
He pulls out the photo.
Everything in him freezes.
His face darkens. Not with fear. With fury.
“I know that tone,” he says quietly. “I’ve heard it before. That’s a man who’s used to controlling people. Who’s used to watching. This isn’t just obsession—it’s ownership.”
He looks at me, then steps toward the door and locks it.
“I’m done playing defense.”
“Elijah—
He turns, and I see it now. The shift. Not just a protective boyfriend. The enforcer.
“I need to make some calls,” he says. “There are still people who owe me favors. Men who still know how to find shadows.”
“Do you think it’s someone from your past?”
“I think it’s someone who knows how I used to move. How to blend in. Someone who’s studied you through me.”
I feel sick.
He softens just a little when he sees my face. Crosses to me. Wraps his arms around me, tight and sure.
“This ends now, Ava.”
I whisper into his chest, “I don’t want you to go back to that life.”
He tilts my chin up. “I’m not going back. I’m using what I know to make sure this bastard never gets near you again.”
There’s a fire in his eyes. Cold, steady, controlled.
And for the first time, I believe it completely— Whoever’s watching me doesn’t realize it yet, but they just picked a fight with the wrong man.
“You look like you’re already planning,” I whisper.
“I am,” he admits. “But first things first.”
He turns to face me fully
“We get through this. Together. But Ava, from now on, you tell me everything. Every note. Every flower. Every off-feeling. I need to know, even if you think it’s nothing.”
I nod, suddenly emotional.
“I will,” I whisper. “I promise.”
Elijah
The charm fits in the center of my palm, cold and perfect.
A silver dahlia, petals layered with quiet precision, light-catching edges that almost shimmer. It’s delicate but not fragile. Bold, like she is. Beautiful, like she doesn’t believe she is.
Inside it, hidden deep in the tiny base, is a tracker.
Discreet. Nothing flashy. Something only I know about.
I hate that I need it.
But loving Ava means seeing her entirely.
It means knowing the cracks she hides, the danger she doesn’t notice, and the weight of everything she won’t say out loud.
I’m her Daddy—not just when she calls me that with a flushed face and breathy voice, but always.
In the quiet. In the dark. When things get real.
This bracelet—it started as something sweet. A symbol of the rules, the rituals, the trust. Something to help her stay grounded when the world gets too loud.
She wears it every day.
Every time I see it on her wrist, something softens in me. Something that was stone for years.
The dahlia charm is more than pretty. It’s my way of saying, I see you. I know you don’t think you’re worth protecting, but I’ll do it anyway.
Even if she never knows how far I’ve gone to keep her safe.