The air between them felt heavy, charged with something more than just the shared intimacy of their night together. Ava’s presence dominated the room, even as she reclined in one of the plush armchairs, her glass of red wine poised delicately between her fingers. Malik and Aaliyah sat opposite her, a mixture of curiosity and tension swirling between them.

Malik broke the silence first, leaning forward slightly. “You own this place,” he said, his voice laced with a mix of awe and accusation. “Why haven’t I ever seen you here before?”

Ava’s lips quirked into a sly smile, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Because, Malik, I don’t need to be here to know it’s running exactly as it should. My presence isn’t required for things to flourish.”

Aaliyah tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Then why now? Why tonight?”

Ava set her glass down on the table with deliberate care, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Because tonight, I saw potential. In you.” Her gaze shifted to Aaliyah, lingering with a weight that made the younger woman’s heart race.

“Me?” Aaliyah’s voice was soft, incredulous.

“Yes, you,” Ava replied smoothly. “You have something rare, Aaliyah—a raw understanding of power. It’s unpolished, yes, but with time and guidance, you could be extraordinary.”

Aaliyah’s cheeks flushed as she met Ava’s gaze, the intensity there both thrilling and terrifying. “What are you saying?”

“I’m offering you a chance to run this house,” Ava said simply, her voice steady. “Amor Voluptatis is my creation, but I need someone to carry it forward while I focus on other ventures.”

Aaliyah’s breath caught. “You want me to run this place?”

Ava nodded. “Yes. But not without preparation. I’ll train you—not just in business, but in presence, in power. I’ll teach you how to command a room, how to influence with a glance, and how to wield control without ever lifting a finger.”

Malik shifted in his seat, his brows furrowing. “And what about me?”

Ava turned her gaze to him, her expression cool but not unkind. “You?” She let the word hang in the air, her lips curling into a faint smirk. “The fact that we touch you should be all the reward you’ll ever need.”

He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing, but before he could respond, Ava’s voice dropped lower, her tone cutting. “Or perhaps I should take that away? Would you like to find out?”

Malik’s silence was all the answer she needed. She leaned back, her smile softening as she turned her attention back to Aaliyah.

“What I’m offering you isn’t just a job. It’s an opportunity to step into your power, to become more than you ever thought possible. The choice is yours, Aaliyah. Take it or leave it.”

Later That Night

The soft hum of the city filled the office, muted by the thick windows overlooking Chicago’s glittering skyline. The space, Ava’s sanctuary within Amor Voluptatis, was a mix of elegance and authority—dark mahogany furniture, sleek leather accents, and bookshelves lined with an eclectic collection of legal tomes and artful curios.

Ava stood near the window, her silhouette sharp against the city lights. She was dressed impeccably as always, her tailored black dress a perfect contrast to her crimson lips. In one hand, she held a glass of wine, and in the other, she absently twirled a silver pen—a gift from an old colleague.

Behind her, the door opened, and Aaliyah stepped in, her stride purposeful. She no longer hesitated in Ava’s presence. The past six months had transformed her—her posture was straighter, her gaze more confident. The subtle tilt of her chin radiated self-assuredness.

“You’ve grown,” Ava said, her back still to Aaliyah, her voice warm but steady.

“Thanks to you,” Aaliyah replied, coming to stand beside her. She crossed her arms lightly, her eyes scanning the view before shifting to Ava. “But...you’re leaving.” It wasn’t a question; it was a realization.

Ava exhaled, setting her glass down on the windowsill before turning to face Aaliyah. “I am. There are...other matters that require my attention.”

“What kind of matters?” Aaliyah’s voice was calm, but her brows furrowed in concern.

Ava hesitated, her gaze softening as she considered how much to reveal. “A colleague of mine is stepping down from their position at Oxford. I’ve been asked to take their place. Teaching law.” She gave a small, wry smile. “Apparently, my reputation precedes me.”

Aaliyah’s eyes widened slightly. “Law? Wait—you’re a lawyer?”

“Corporate lawyer,” Ava clarified, her tone casual but firm. “Among other things. It’s where I built my foundation before branching out into...alternative ventures.”

Aaliyah let that sink in, the pieces of Ava’s life slowly clicking into place. “So, you’re leaving this all behind to go teach?”

“Not leaving it behind,” Ava corrected, stepping closer to Aaliyah. “Entrusting it to someone who’s ready to lead. This place will always be mine, but it will thrive because of you.”

Aaliyah’s chest tightened at the weight of Ava’s words. “How do you know I’m ready?”

Ava’s lips curved into a faint smile. “Because I’ve watched you. You’ve learned to hold your power, to wield it with grace and precision. You’ve surpassed even my expectations, Aaliyah.”

There was a brief silence as Aaliyah absorbed the moment, the gravity of Ava’s confidence in her settling deep.

“I won’t let you down,” Aaliyah said finally, her voice steady, her chin lifting with determination.

“I know you won’t,” Ava replied, her hand resting briefly on Aaliyah’s shoulder. Her touch was firm, reassuring. “This place is yours now. Run it the way I taught you—but make it your own.”

Aaliyah nodded, her throat tightening with a mixture of pride and bittersweet emotion. “Thank you...for everything.”

Ava’s smile softened, and for the first time, there was something unguarded in her gaze. “Thank you, Aaliyah. For trusting me. For stepping into who you were always meant to be.”

The halls of Amor Voluptatis were quiet, the usual hum of activity subdued as Ava moved through the space one last time. She paused in the main lounge, her eyes sweeping over the room that had been her creation, her sanctuary.

“So, this is it?” he asked, his voice low.

Ava turned to him, a faint smile on her lips. “This is it.”

He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening. “You sure about this?”

“I’m sure,” she said simply. “This is the next chapter, Malik. For all of us.”

Malik exhaled, glancing down at his feet before meeting her gaze again. “You’ll still be around, though...right? Checking in?”

“I’ll always be a call away,” Ava said, her tone lighter now, almost teasing. “But you don’t need me here. You have Aaliyah. She’s more than capable.”

He nodded again, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—uncertainty, perhaps. “Yeah, she is.”

Ava stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the floor. “And you, Malik? Are you ready for what’s next?”

He met her gaze, and for a moment, there was no power play, no tension—just honesty. “I think so.”

“Good,” Ava said, her voice soft but firm. “Because this place isn’t about me anymore. It’s about the two of you. Make it something extraordinary.”

And with that, she turned, her figure disappearing through the door.

The next morning, Ava boarded her flight to the UK, leaving Amor Voluptatis—and her legacy—in capable hands.

-----

Catching Up with Tyrone

Malik sat on the edge of his bed, the soft hum of Chicago’s nightlife filtering through the window. The day had been a whirlwind, as always, but now that the night had quieted, he found himself thinking about Tyrone. It had been too long since their last conversation—life pulling them in different directions, as it always did. But some bonds, like the one he shared with Tyrone, didn’t weaken with time.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he landed on Tyrone’s name. With a deep breath and a small smile, he hit call.

The line rang twice before a familiar voice answered, warm and booming as ever.

“Yo, Malik! Man, what’s good?” Tyrone’s laughter was already bubbling through the phone, as if no time had passed since their last chat.

“Ty, my guy! What’s up, man? How’s England treating you?” Malik leaned back against the headboard, the tension of the day melting as he heard his friend’s voice.

“Man, you know how it is. Grey skies, cold mornings, and more reading than I ever thought possible,” Tyrone said, chuckling. “Oxford’s no joke, bro. I swear these professors think I have twenty-four hours to dedicate to their class alone.”

Malik laughed. “That’s what you signed up for, Mr. Future Supreme Court Justice. How’s it feel being the smartest dude in every room?”

“Come on, man, you know that’s not true,” Tyrone said, though his voice betrayed the pride he tried to downplay. “But seriously, it’s been a grind. Rewarding, though. I can’t lie—there’s something about being surrounded by so much history here. It makes all the late nights worth it.”

“I hear you,” Malik said, nodding even though Tyrone couldn’t see him. “You’re built for this. I’ve been telling you since undergrad—law was always your thing. You’re probably running circles around those Brits.”

Tyrone laughed again. “You giving me too much credit, but I’ll take it. How about you, man? How’s the new job?”

“Stressful but solid,” Malik admitted. “The finance world’s a grind, but it’s good to feel like I’m building something, you know? Actually, that’s part of why I called.”

“Oh yeah?” Tyrone asked, his tone curious.

“Yeah,” Malik said, sitting up slightly. “I was talking to some folks at the bank, and they’re looking for a legal analyst. It’s not courtroom work, but it’s solid experience and a foot in the door. I figured I’d hit you up, see if you’re interested once you’re done at Oxford.”

Tyrone was quiet for a moment, the weight of the offer sinking in. “Man, are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Malik replied. “You’ve been putting in the work, Ty. I’m just trying to connect you with an opportunity. You’ve earned this.”

“Damn,” Tyrone said, his voice softer now. “I don’t even know what to say. That’s huge, bro. But you don’t have to pull strings for me—”

“Stop that,” Malik interrupted, his tone firm but warm. “This isn’t about pulling strings. You’ve got the talent, the drive, all of it. All I’m doing is making sure the right people see what I already know. You’ve got this.”

Tyrone exhaled, and Malik could imagine him running a hand over his face, as he always did when he was thinking. “I’ll definitely think about it,” Tyrone said finally. “And I appreciate you looking out, Malik. You’ve always been in my corner.”

“Always, man. That’s what brothers do,” Malik said, his smile audible in his voice. “Besides, I gotta make sure you’re set. You’re gonna be the one defending me when I get into some corporate mess someday.”

Tyrone laughed, the sound easy and familiar. “You already know I got you. But for real, thanks, Malik. This means a lot.”

They fell into lighter conversation after that, reminiscing about late nights in undergrad, their favorite spots back in Chicago, and how much Tyrone missed Italian beefs dipped with cheese extra soggy. The conversation flowed like it always did, filled with laughter and the kind of honesty that only came with years of friendship.

Eventually, Tyrone sighed. “Alright, bro, I gotta get back to the grind. But seriously, don’t be a stranger. Call more often.”

“Same goes for you, Ty,” Malik replied. “Take care, man. And keep killing it out there.”

“You too, Malik. Later.”

As the call ended, Malik leaned back against the bed, a sense of calm settling over him. No matter how far life pulled them, the bond he shared with Tyrone was unshakable—a reminder that some connections were built to last.