Part 2:
My mother stepped outside first wearing fuzzy slippers and a silk robe, completely confused by the sight of armed soldiers standing in the driveway.
Chloe rushed out behind her.
Then Ryan.
Finally my father appeared already irritated simply because he didn’t understand what was happening.
“Ava,” my mother whispered nervously. “What is all this?”
Colonel Hayes ignored her entirely.
“Secure transport confirmed,” he said calmly to his team.
Ryan frowned immediately. “Transport?”
I stepped forward slowly.
“Good morning,” I said.
Chloe looked between me and the convoy with visible disbelief.
“What exactly did you do?”
“I finalized a partnership.”
My father scoffed loudly.
“For what? Sitting at a computer pretending to work?”
I looked directly at him.
“Stratix Defense Systems acquired my software yesterday,” I replied evenly. “Tonight I officially become their new CTO.”
Silence crashed across the driveway.
Ryan’s expression changed first.
He recognized the company name instantly.
Everyone in finance did.
“Stratix?” he repeated carefully.
Colonel Hayes nodded once.
“The same Stratix.”
My mother covered her mouth in shock.
Chloe suddenly looked pale.
And for the first time in my entire life, my father had absolutely nothing to say.
Then my mother whispered something quietly horrified.
“You slept in the garage…”
“Yes.”
“You should’ve told us.”
I laughed softly.
“You should’ve cared enough to ask.”
One of the soldiers loaded my suitcase into the SUV.
I climbed inside without another word.
As the convoy slowly pulled away from the house, I watched my family shrink in the side mirror.
Nobody chased after me.
Nobody apologized.
Good.
My new penthouse overlooked Boston Harbor like a fortress made entirely of glass and steel.
Beautiful.
Untouchable.
Cold enough to match exactly how I felt inside.
At six o’clock sharp, my chief of staff, Miranda, handed me a black garment bag.
“General Whitmore invited you to dinner tonight,” she explained.
Inside hung a dark emerald evening gown cut with sharp lines and almost military precision.
Elegant enough for power.
Dangerous enough for revenge.
Then Miranda handed me the guest list.
I read the names carefully.
Michael and Susan Reed.
Chloe and Ryan Mitchell.
I looked up immediately.
“You invited them?”
Miranda nodded once.
“The General believes certain lessons deserve witnesses.”
At exactly eight that evening, the private elevator doors opened.
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