The next morning dawned clear, the kind of London day that looked too calm to be honest.
Ava sat by the window of her studio, a mug of untouched coffee cooling beside her. Sleep had been impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, she could still feel Sebastian's touch — the warmth of his hand, the taste of rain between their breaths, the way the world had fallen away.
She'd told herself not to hope, but hope was a quiet, stubborn thing.
Her phone buzzed. Breaking News: Sebastian Vale Addresses Rumors.
Her heart stilled.
She turned on the TV. There he was — composed, immaculate in his charcoal suit, standing before a sea of reporters outside ValeTech headquarters. Flashbulbs flickered like tiny storms of light, but his gaze was steady, his tone clear.
"I've always kept my personal life private," he began. "But recent events have made that difficult. So I'll say this once, directly. The woman in those photographs is not a rumor. Her name is Ava Sinclair. She's an artist. And yes — she's someone I care about deeply."
Ava's breath caught.
Murmurs rippled through the crowd of journalists. Sebastian continued, unwavering.
"What we share is personal, but I won't let speculation tarnish her name or her work. I built ValeTech on integrity. That doesn't stop when I walk out of this building."
He didn't take questions. He simply turned, walked back into the glass tower, and left the world buzzing in his wake.
Ava sat frozen. The room seemed to tilt.
He'd said her name. He'd claimed her.
The thought should have scared her — it did, a little — but mostly, it filled her with a warmth she hadn't expected. For the first time, he hadn't hidden behind caution or control.
He'd chosen her.
But the peace didn't last.
Within hours, her inbox flooded. Reporters camped outside her building. Cameras followed her when she tried to step out for groceries. Some praised her as the "woman who softened London's coldest billionaire." Others painted her as an opportunist, a distraction, a mistake.
Clara came over that afternoon, shutting the blinds and locking the door. "You're trending," she said grimly.
"I don't want to be trending," Ava muttered.
"I know. But you are. And the art world's divided — half of them are calling your work brave, the other half say you've ruined your reputation."
Ava's chest tightened. "It's like they think I stopped being an artist the moment I touched him."
Clara sighed. "That's how the world works, love. They'll turn your truth into their entertainment."
Ava turned toward the window, her reflection faint in the glass. "He told the truth," she said softly. "And now I have to live with it."
Across the city, Sebastian was in a war room of his own.
The boardroom at ValeTech felt colder than usual. Every face around the long glass table was unreadable, some disappointed, others furious.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Hargreaves demanded. "You've just given the media ammunition for months!"
Sebastian didn't flinch. "I gave them honesty. It'll die faster than a lie would."
"You think investors care about your honesty?" another board member snapped. "They care about perception — stability — control."
Sebastian leaned forward, calm but dangerous. "Then perhaps they should invest in machines instead of people."
A heavy silence followed.
"You're risking everything you've built," Hargreaves warned.
"I'm not risking it," Sebastian said evenly. "I'm reminding everyone that I'm human."
When the meeting adjourned, he lingered alone, staring at the skyline through the rain-streaked glass. He'd done what he had to — what felt right. But the cost was already becoming clear.
His phone buzzed with a message. Ava: Are you okay?
He smiled faintly. You're the one who should be asking that, he replied.
Her response came seconds later. I'd rather see you.
They met that evening in the quiet corner of a park, away from cameras and chaos. The sun was sinking, turning the sky a soft gold.
"You didn't have to do that," Ava said, her voice trembling with both gratitude and worry. "You could've denied it."
"I was done pretending," he said simply. "I spent years hiding everything real. You made that impossible."
She searched his face. "And now? The board hates you. Investors are panicking. Are you sure it's worth it?"
He reached out, brushing his thumb along her wrist. "You were worth it the moment I couldn't stop thinking about you."
Her heart skipped. "You make it sound so easy."
"It's not," he said softly. "But it's the first honest thing I've done in a long time."
Ava stepped closer, her chest pressing against his. "You just changed both our lives."
"I know." His eyes darkened slightly, his voice dropping lower. "But I'd rather live in the mess we made than the emptiness I had before."
They stood there for a long time, the world still turning somewhere beyond the park gates. She could hear the faint hum of traffic, the chatter of distant lives, but here, there was only them — the quiet pulse of something real.
Finally, Ava whispered, "You realize they won't stop now. They'll dig, they'll question, they'll twist every word we say."
"Let them," he murmured. "The only thing I won't let them twist is what I feel for you."
She smiled — not the shy smile she wore before, but something steadier, more certain. "Then I guess we fight together."
Sebastian brushed his fingers along her cheek, his voice low and warm. "Together."
The light faded, wrapping them in twilight.
And for the first time since the scandal began, neither of them felt afraid.
The world could talk.
They would stand.
Side by side.