Chapter 3

Ava slid the encrypted phone back into her pocket, stepping off the curb to hail a cab. Before her hand could rise, high heels clicked sharply against the pavement behind her. A manicured hand reached out from the crowd and clamped down on her canvas jacket. Megan blocked the sidewalk, grabbing Ava’s sleeve and dragging her into the coffee shop next door. Brenda followed, slamming the glass door behind them. Ava took a booth seat facing the corner, her fingers tapping rapid replies to Leo. "Donovan reserved the entire rooftop ballroom at the Plaza for our engagement," Megan announced to the room. She smoothed her silk collar, lifting her voice so every table heard each word. "His family ordered my gown directly from Paris," Megan continued. "Custom lace, hand-beaded crystals, fifty thousand dollars." Several patrons glanced up from their laptops, whispering among themselves. Megan smiled, leaning across the small table to stare down at Ava’s quiet phone screen. "Has your broke family found shelter yet?" Megan asked loudly. "I can ask Donovan to rent you a basement in Brooklyn," Megan mocked. "Six hundred square feet with working pipes." Ava looked up from her screen, meeting Megan’s eyes. "Megan, shut up." Megan gasped, her face twisting with rage. "How dare you speak to me like—" "I said, shut up." Megan jumped to her feet, pointing a trembling finger at Ava's nose. "You worthless little—" Ava stood up, unscrewed the vintage Edison bulb from the table lamp, and drove it into Megan's open mouth. The glass bulb seated firmly between Megan's molars, locking her jaw wide open. Megan staggered back against the wall, clutching her cheeks with muffled gurgles. The coffee shop went completely silent. Brenda screamed, lunging forward to yank at the smooth glass, but her slick fingers slipped off. Ava sat back down, picked up her phone, and checked her inbox. Brenda frantically dialed 911, her voice shrieking into the receiver. Then a deep rumble vibrated through the floorboards. The low roar of heavy V12 engines shook the shop’s large front windows. Every customer froze, turning toward the street. Brenda stopped mid-sentence, the phone slipping against her ear. A convoy of gleaming black vehicles pulled up along the curb. At the center sat a custom stretched Phantom, one of one in the world, worth three million dollars. Black-suited security teams emerged from the escort cars, locking down the perimeter in seconds. The heavy rear doors of the Phantom swung open. Seven men stepped onto the pavement. They were tall, impeccably groomed, and dressed in bespoke charcoal suits. The entire street fell silent as the group walked into the coffee shop. Julian Kensington led the way, holding a high-resolution tablet in his left hand. He walked straight through the stunned crowd, stopping directly at Ava’s booth. Julian looked from the tablet screen to Ava's face. "Ava... Sister. We're your brothers. We've come to take you home." Brenda stood frozen beside the counter, her mouth agape and her eyes blank with shock. Megan leaned against a table, tears streaming down her neck, the Edison bulb still wedged between her teeth. Julian glanced at the bulb, his expression turning to stone. "She was too loud," Ava said. The seven men paused in disbelief. Miles, the youngest brother, snorted with laughter. Julian’s eyes creased with faint warmth. He raised a hand, and two bodyguards pushed past Brenda to escort the whimpering Megan toward arriving paramedics. Julian turned back to Ava, his tone gentle. "This is not the place to talk," Julian said. "Come with us. Grandfather is waiting." Ava stood up, slinging her canvas bag over her shoulder. "The report said my family was poor," Ava said. Elias pushed his gold-rimmed glasses up his nose. "We staged that test," Elias explained. "We did not know how you felt about the Kensington name. We wanted to see if you would look down on us." "Allow us to introduce ourselves properly," Julian said. "Julian, CEO of Kensington Corporation," Julian began. "Elias, university professor," Elias followed. "Adrian, artist," the third brother smiled. "Wyatt, actor," Wyatt nodded. "Victor, MMA champion," Victor grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Silas, concert pianist," Silas bowed slightly. "Miles, professional gamer," Miles winked. Ava recognized their faces from magazine covers and global headlines. "The file also said our uncle was an unemployed pig farmer named Li," Ava noted. Elias cleared his throat softly. "Our family originally held the surname Li," Elias said. "Our uncle stepped down from the board to consult, so he is technically unemployed." "And the pigs?" Ava asked. "Our agricultural division still manages the original livestock facility," Elias replied. "There are roughly one hundred thousand pigs." Ava paused, reached into her pocket, and quietly slid her emergency debit card back into her wallet. Adrian stepped forward and pulled Ava into a tight, warm hug. Ava stiffened for a second, then relaxed into his arms without pushing him away. Julian placed a hand on Ava's shoulder as they walked toward the exit. "Mother ran away years ago," Julian said quietly. "She passed away, but we never stopped searching for you." Julian opened the heavy door of the custom Phantom. He turned to his chief assistant standing by the curb. "Investigate the Shaw family's actions over the past twenty years," Julian ordered. "I do not want to see them in New York again." "Understood, CEO," the assistant replied. The convoy sped east toward Long Island. At the estate gates, Lawrence Kensington waited by the stone entryway, his eyes rimmed with red. He took Ava's hand tightly. "Welcome home, my child," Lawrence whispered. Before Ava could speak, a medical orderly rushed through the double doors. "Mr. Kensington!" the orderly shouted. "The master's condition took a sharp turn for the worse ten minutes ago!" Ava dropped her bag and ran straight toward the stairs.