CHAPTER 194: NONEXISTENT

"Aveline... I was at the court last week. Damien Ashford’s lawyers were there, asking for his absence."

Even after Gabriel’s footsteps faded from the penthouse, the silence he left behind was deafening.

Aveline sat still, her fingers unconsciously digging into her palm. ’Absence.’ It was such an ordinary word, yet it pressed like ice against her skin.

It made her wonder if prison was no longer a wall to stop Damien, but a revolving door Damien could step through whenever he pleased.

Her chest tightened with that thought. She had worked so hard to move forward, ignoring his images forming in her mind as she carefully took steps into a future that no longer included him.

And yet, with one word, her memories of seeing Damien on strangers’ faces flooded back. For a brief moment, she didn’t know if the fear flooding her veins was real or just another imagination of her mind playing.

Alaric realized Gabriel hadn’t come to check out their place or test the waters between them, he was there to deliver a warning. It was a clear reminder that Damien’s shadow still stretched long enough to reach them from the prison walls.

It was as if Gabriel already knew that Damien’s being out of prison meant danger for Aveline.

Frozen, Aveline’s complex thoughts continued to crack her composure. For the whole week, she had been forcing herself to forget those images, to push away the memories of Damien, the threats she had seen in his eyes.

Yet the word ’absence’ twisted everything back into life.

If prison had absences, too, it came with the terrifying possibility. Damien could be out in the city, waiting around a corner, ready to appear before her.

Or it could be just her mind playing tricks on her vision.

What should she believe in?

How could she just pretend she was alright?

Her voice was edgy when she tried to speak. "I..."

"I’ll look into it." Alaric’s reply was firm, leaving no room for argument.

She only nodded, distracted, her thoughts spiraling between reality and imagination. She wanted to know, but she also didn’t want to be involved more with Damien’s situation. She wanted no part of Damien anymore.

Alaric could only swallow the lump in her throat, looking at her. The more she tried to get away from the phantom chasing after her, she was barely managing it out alive and sane.

He knew she wasn’t scared of Damien. She wouldn’t even be anxious if he managed to get out of prison. She would rather deal with Damien calmly.

She feared differentiating between reality and imagination.

His mobile beeped, reminding him of the man Ezra had caught in front of the club. After making sure Aveline was fine alone, Alaric left the penthouse.

....

The private parking, Ivory Towers,

The private parking beneath the tower was dim and quiet, shadows pooling under the luxurious cars.

A man was crouched near the corner, his body trembling as though the concrete under his feet was ice. His eyes widened when Alaric stepped out of the elevator, fear flashing across his face like lightning.

Ezra had him pinned in place with just a sharp gaze on him when he walked to Alaric. He broke the silence first, flashing an ID card. "Name’s Mark Halloway. Freelance paparazzi. He’s been trailing Ms. Laurent the moment she stepped out of the Ivory."

He paused, glancing at the paparazzo, "He isn’t working for anyone specific, just chasing a paycheck." He had gone through the emails, messages, bank statements, and social media. Everything was clean.

Alaric crouched before the man, taking the camera and phone from the floor. He scrolled through the gallery, and every blurred shot of Aveline sharpened the coldness in his eyes.

She had turned her face away in most of them, unknowingly shielding herself, but even the attempt at her privacy made his jaw clench.

But he removed the memory card with quiet finality, slipping it into his pocket. The phone, however, didn’t earn the same mercy when he stood up.

’Smash.’

The sound cracked through the garage like a gunshot. The paparazzo flinched so hard he nearly fell back, his lips parting but no words daring to follow.

Alaric didn’t waste his breath. One sharp look was enough for Ezra to understand when he walked away.

Ezra pulled a few banknotes and pressed them into the man’s palm before returning the camera. His voice was low, cold. "If I see you near Ms. Laurent again..." He gestured toward the shattered phone on the floor. "You’ll be next."

"I-I won’t do it again..." The man stammered a promise, clutching the camera like a lifeline. He bolted for the exit, footsteps echoing in the garage.

....

Ezra trailed paparazzi discreetly. It didn’t matter whether he was a simple paparazzo or somebody hired him, Ezra wanted to find out how the pap could identify Aveline so easily when hardly anybody from the media had seen her face.

The trail led to a restaurant, then the paparazzi went home.

Ezra dialed Alaric’s number, his voice plain when he reported, [He must really be just a pap.] Then he drove away from the rundown community.

The paparazzo carefully shifted the window curtains to look downstairs and breathed a sigh of relief when he didn’t find Ezra anywhere.

Then he turned around and looked at the apartment he was in. ’Am I at the right address?’ he thought as he unfolded the note he got in the restaurant to confirm that he entered the right apartment mentioned in it.

Before he could leave, he saw lights flickering on in a room. The paparazzo almost gasped when a man stepped through the door.

The paparazzo complained, "I was almost caught."

The man pulled a drawer and grabbed a chunk of banknotes, and threw it at the paparazzo. "Disappear."

....

At Ivory Towers,

Alaric leaned back against the headboard, responding to Ezra with just a low hum.

Was it just a coincidence?

His eyes softened when Aveline stepped out of the ensuite in her nightsuit, crawling onto the bed. He reached for her, and she curled into his arms without resistance.

Whenever Damien’s name surfaced, she grew quiet. And again, her smiles disappeared, and the silence weighed heavily over her.

He hated that her peace could still be stolen by Damien. He couldn’t leave her in that silence, so he asked, "How did you meet Gabriel Fournier?"

Aveline blinked, surprised at the question. Still, she answered, "We were in the same school, though we never spoke. He was one of those who wore thick, nerdy glasses. I saw him whenever I visited Red at their parents’ place. Later, I met him again at my homecoming party. Mom had invited the Fourniers.

He had become the hotshot lawyer by then. That was the first time we spoke. I was impressed when he spoke of business, corporate crimes with Dad so smoothly. Afterwards, I saw him more since Scarlett was living with him."

Her lips tugged into a small smile when she noticed Alaric’s eyes narrowing. She giggled. "Of course, he looked good without those glasses, but I was drawn to workaholics back then. There was an incident at a club, and he protected Red and me without hesitation. And he was clearly noticing me. So, I broke the ice, and he agreed."

Alaric’s gaze lingered on her face. For a moment, he was jealous of how smoothly Gabriel earned her attention. Anyway, he patiently probed when she went quiet. "And?"

Aveline almost laughed at how strange she felt while talking about her ex with the man she loved.

Still, she continued, "I had thought I should be with someone smart, respected, protective, logical. But there was no affection between us. He barely tried. Forget planning dates, he stood me up again and again. Yes, he apologized, but it kept happening.

I found myself at a crossroads. Should I be understanding? Because his career was taking flight. But he wasn’t even doing the bare minimum."

Her voice softened. "I never lacked attention from family or friends. But from him? His presence was nonexistent in my life. I had to take a call."

Alaric smoothed her hair with his fingers. "He let you go?" He had noticed Gabriel still cared about Aveline.

She nodded. "Yes. He had assumed he needed to earn more to take care of me. I was a Laurent, after all. He had quietly taken the pressure without sharing it with me. But really, his life is his work. He could never give me what I want."

Turning to Alaric, she reached up and tugged his cheeks playfully. "And you are different. Exactly who I needed."

Being with Gabriel had taught her something important. Her expectations weren’t complex. She needed time, presence in her life, a heart to love her. That was all. Hence, she hadn’t dated again.

Too many men only saw her Laurent name and thought about money, influence, status, but never love.

Alaric didn’t just love her, he saw her. He listened even when she was silent. He gave her space when she needed it. His emotional availability was what she valued above everything.

Alaric understood, and he was content to leave it at that after distracting her from Damien. He cuddled her, letting her drift into sleep.

....

The bedroom was hushed, and she was buried in his arms when her phone rang on the bedside table.

Alaric reached for it, intending to silence it when he noticed the string of unsaved numbers. An unknown call. His thumb hovered briefly, wondering if the call was from her event, then he answered.

[Nina...] The voice was dark, dripping with mockery.

Alaric’s expression hardened, his jaw tightening when he identified the voice of the man.