How To Lose Your Billionaire Alpha Husband In 365 Days (Or Less)!-Chapter 107: Shit...

The warehouse sat on the outskirts of the city, looking old and rundown. Its metal walls were rusty, and the tall windows were dirty from years of neglect.

Inside, the air smelled musty, filled with grease and old oil. Dust danced in the sunlight coming through the rafters, giving the place a strange, eerie feeling.

Ava moved quietly, her heels softly tapping against the concrete. She kept her hand near her gun, relaxed yet prepared.

Ahead of her, Alex walked with an air of tension, his coat trailing behind him and his jaw clenched so tightly that she could see the muscle twitching near his temple.

Near the back, under a single flickering bulb, stood Marco.

"You’re late," Marco rasped, flicking a cigarette ash onto the floor. His eyes darted toward Ava.

"You bring her here now? You’re in deep, Ramos."

He tossed a manila folder onto the metal table between them. The slap echoed, followed by the soft crackle of shifting pages.

"The Calabrians know," Marco added in a low voice.

"They know you’re playing both sides. And they know you’re with her."

Ava didn’t flinch. Her voice, when it came, was precise and ice-cold. "Then you’d better tell me who’s feeding them my name. Because we are not playing."

Marco exhaled through his nose, pulling at the collar of his jacket. "Someone high up, but not Moretti. The whispers are coming through the shadows, freelance operators. Sloppy ones."

Alex stepped forward, eyes locked on Marco like a blade. "We need names. Now."

Marco’s lip curled. "You think I’d hold out if I had them?"

He slid another paper forward, a blurry still from a security cam. A tall man with a black hood, face barely visible, moving past a residential alley near the Reed estate. The timestamp was from three nights ago.

"Recognize him?" Marco asked.

Ava took one look and froze.

"Vincenzo," she said.

Alex looked at her. "You know him?"

She nodded slowly. "Yeah, he’s the one who used to run hits with Rafael. He disappeared years ago; he was supposed to be dead."

Marco chuckled without humour. "Calabrians are breathing life into a lot of dead men lately."

A heavy silence dropped over them.

Then Marco leaned in, his expression flat. "Clock’s ticking, Ramos. If your name’s tied to hers much longer, you won’t be able to walk in Moretti rooms anymore. And she..." he glanced at Ava—"won’t walk out of hers."

Ava’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. She’d memorised every detail. Every word.

They left without a handshake.

---

The car ride back was quiet for the first few blocks, filled with a tense silence. It felt like there was too much heat in a small space, making it uncomfortable to be in.

Ava stared out the passenger window, arms crossed tightly over her chest. The city rolled by in a blur, wet sidewalks, blinking traffic lights, and a boy selling roses at the median.

None of it reached her.

Instead, her mind was buzzing with names, connections, and the ghost of Vincenzo’s face.

"You’re too close to this," she said, speaking from nowhere.

Alex’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. "You think I don’t know that?"

"Your syndicate’s leaking, Alex," she snapped. "And I’m the one paying the price."

"And you think I’m not?" His voice rose now, cutting through the hum of the road. "You think this hasn’t cost me?"

"You’re still alive. You still have your name. I buried Liam because of this. I nearly buried my daughter."

He slammed his palm on the wheel and pulled the car over with a hard turn, tyres screeching against the wet curb. The momentum threw them slightly forward. He threw it in park and turned toward her, jaw clenched.

"I am here," he growled, "because I care. About you. About Pearl. Not because I’m looking to fix my name."

"You expect me to believe that after all this time?" she asked.

"I’m risking everything, Ava."

"For who?" she asked bitterly. "Me? Or Pearl, who draws us as stick figures in capes? Because let me tell you, Alex, I don’t know if we deserve to be her heroes."

Silence.

A long one.

Then, softer. "She needs something to believe in," he said. "Even if it’s not perfect."

Ava’s throat tightened. The rain tapped against the windshield now in a soft and steady rhythm. She turned to face him fully, their faces close in the dim car, breath fogging the glass.

He reached for her hand slowly, like touching a bruise. "You’re not alone in this."

Her eyes flicked down to where his fingers grazed hers. Warm. Steady. And dangerous.

She pulled away.

"We can’t afford this, Alex," she whispered. "Not now. Not when we’re still standing in two different wars."

He didn’t argue. He only nodded once, jaw set, then reached for the gear shift again.

---

Back at the Reed estate, the wrought iron gates creaked open beneath the soft hum of the returning SUV.

Inside, Pearl greeted them at the front foyer, practically bouncing with excitement. She held up a freshly drawn picture on bright pink construction paper.

Crayon figures stood beneath a string of twinkling fairy lights, three of them at the restaurant: Alex with his crooked grin, Ava in her sleek black gown, and Pearl in the centre, mid-laugh with a tiara.

"Can we go again?" she asked, eyes wide and glowing.

Ava crouched to Pearl’s level, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, and forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

"Of course, love. We’ll plan another soon."

Alex stepped up beside them, his expression warmer, more convincing. "Maybe next time, we’ll get you your own dessert cart."

Pearl gasped. "Like, with ten scoops?!" She extended both hands wide. "This big?"

"At least," Alex chuckled, ruffling her curls. "And I’ll even let you pick my flavour."

Ava’s heart warmed faintly at the exchange, but her mind was already drifting dockyards, surveillance feeds, and encrypted threats. Her gut hadn’t settled all morning, and Pearl’s sweet innocence only made the shadows darker.

"Did you know, Mom," Pearl began dramatically, following them into the living room, "that Mrs. Kaelin said I draw better than half the fourth grade? And I’m not even in fourth grade yet!"

Alex laughed. "That’s because you’re secretly in college already."

"Maybe I should skip to law school," Pearl said with mock seriousness, flopping onto the couch.

"Then I can make rules and break them."

Ava smirked. "That sounds very... familiar."

Before Pearl could rattle off another philosophical tangent, Selena stepped into the room, tablet in hand, her expression grim and direct.

"Ava," she said, her tone cutting through the moment.

"You need to come see this. Now."

Ava’s spine straightened. She turned to Alex with a nod. "You’re coming too."

"Right behind you," he said, then turned to Pearl.

"I’ll be back in just a few minutes, champ. You start working on another masterpiece for me."

"What am I drawing this time?" Pearl called out, blinking up from her drawing pad.

Alex paused in the hallway, offering a wink over his shoulder. "Make us superheroes. With cool costumes."

"And off they go again," Pearl sighed, dramatically tossing herself back on the couch.

---

The war room buzzed with tension as Ava and Alex entered. Selena stood in front of the central screen, arms folded, her expression unreadable.

She tapped the console. "New intel. Twenty minutes ago."

The screen flickered and then froze on a grainy but unmistakable image: Vincenzo, standing beside Isabella near a cargo site at the dockyard.

Ava’s eyes sharpened. The two were mid-conversation, Vincenzo half-turned, gesturing at a crate. Isabella’s red scarf fluttered in the wind. The image timestamp pulsed in the corner, indicating it was recent. Too recent.

"Vincenzo’s back," Selena said. "He’s not laying low anymore. This was a message."

Alex’s jaw tightened. "I don’t really know who this Vincenzo guy is, but with Isabella, I’m sure they’re planning something big. The dock is a known drop site, but we’ve never caught her there. Until now."

Ava didn’t speak at first. Her gaze was locked on the screen, her fists clenched at her sides. The calm in her voice belied the fire in her chest.

"We end this," she said.

Alex turned to her. "Together."

Their eyes met, and neither looked away.

Selena nodded once, switching screens to aerial routes and satellite views of the harbour. "I’ve got a drone grid ready. We can intercept if we make our move first."

They were already strategising, layering maps with defence zones and exit plans, when Alex’s phone buzzed beside him on the console.

He unlocked his phone and saw a message. There was no name, just a number.

Curious, he tapped the message.

What appeared next made his heart drop. It was a picture of Pearl. She was in her school uniform, but the photo was taken from across the street.

It was a bit blurry, yet he could clearly recognise her stance, the backpack she carried, the way she walked, and the braid that Ava had tied in her hair just a few hours earlier.

The text below was short but chilling.

"You can’t protect them both."

Alex’s fingers tightened around the device. His jaw was tight and locked.

Ava noticed immediately. "What is it?"

He turned the phone toward her, and her face went pale.

"Shit!"