His To Take

The smell of burnt coffee clung to the morning air as Ava Sinclair flipped through emails on her phone, pacing across her agency’s open-plan office. The space was all concrete floors, framed art, and mismatched furniturea blend of grit and style that matched her perfectly.

Outside the glass windows, Manhattan pulsed with noise and power. Inside, her world was calm until Harper burst in like a storm.

“He’s here,” Harper hissed. “Luca freaking Hart is in the lobby.”

Ava blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Black suit. Ice stare. Looks like money and murder.”

Ava tossed her phone on the desk. “What the hell does he want?”

“He didn’t say. Just asked for you. Personally.”

Ava straightened her blazer, spine locking tight. Luca Hart didn’t make personal visits. He sent assistants. Or lawyers. Or press releases.

So why was one of the richest men in the country showing up at her agency uninvited?

Harper leaned in. “You want me to lie and say you’re out?”

“No,” Ava said, voice flat. “Send him up.”

Let’s see what the devil wants.

Luca Hart walked in like he owned the place.

He didn’t look around. Didn’t smile. Just moved with a kind of lethal calm, all broad shoulders and expensive silence. His charcoal suit was tailored like armor, and his silver watch probably cost more than Ava’s office lease.

“Miss Sinclair,” he said, cool and unreadable.

“Mr. Hart,” Ava replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to drop by.”

“I’m not.”

She gestured toward the chair across from her desk. He didn’t sit. Of course not.

“I’ll make this quick,” he said. “Hart & Co. is expanding. I’m buying Sinclair Creative.”

Ava’s heart kicked. “No.”

“You haven’t heard the offer.”

“I don’t need to. The answer’s no.”

His eyes didn’t flinch. “Your agency has reach but not scale. I’d provide resources, exposure, guaranteed clients.”

“And strip me of control.”

“Partnership,” he said, too smooth.

“Ownership,” she countered. “You want to fold me into your empire. No thanks.”

He studied her like a chessboard. “Is this pride or poor judgment?”

Ava smiled, sharply. “Does it matter? Either way, I’m not for sale.”

He finally sat. Leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Most people say yes to me.”

“I’m not most people.”

He held her gaze for a long, cold second. “You will be.”

Ava stood. “Meeting’s over.”

He rose too, adjusting his cuffs like she hadn’t just kicked him out.

“I’ll give you a few days to reconsider,” he said.

“Don’t waste your time.”

Luca walked to the door, paused, then turned just enough to glance over his shoulder. “I don’t waste anything, Ava. And especially not when I’ve already decided what’s mine.

Three hours later, Ava got the call.

Their biggest client fifteen percent of their revenue had pulled out.

No reason. No warning.

Just gone.

And her gut told her exactly who was behind it.

Ava stared at the email like it might change if she blinked hard enough.

Subject: Termination of Services.

Reason: Strategic realignment.

Effective Immediately.

Her hands curled into fists.

“Ava,” Harper said cautiously from across the room, “you okay?”

“No,” Ava said flatly. “I’m not.”

“They’re pulling out?”

“Effective immediately.”

Harper winced. “That’s a big hit.”

“Fifteen percent of our revenue. Gone. No warning.”

They locked eyes. Neither of them said it but they were both thinking the same thing.

Luca Hart.

He’d barely been out of her office for three hours. And now her most stable client had ghosted her like a bad Tinder date.

Ava grabbed her coat and bag, fire rising behind her ribs.

“Where are you going?” Harper asked.

“To return a favor.”

Thirty minutes later she stood in the sleek glass lobby of Hart & Co.

Everything here screamed money. The kind that didn’t care about people. The kind that swallowed up everything in its path.

“I need to speak to Luca Hart,” she told the receptionist, her voice sharp.

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No. But tell him Ava Sinclair is here. He’ll know why.”

The woman hesitated, then picked up the phone. Ava didn’t move. Didn’t blink. She wasn’t here to be polite.

Moments later, a tall man in a charcoal suit appeared from the elevator. Not Lucabut close enough in arrogance.

“Miss Sinclair,” he said with a faint smirk. “Mr. Hart will see you. Right this way.”

She followed him into an elevator, refusing to show a flicker of nerves as they shot upward.

When the doors opened, she stepped into a private floor that looked more like an art gallery than an office.

And there he was. Standing by the window, city lights behind him, as if he owned the skyline.

“Didn’t expect to see you again so soon,” Luca said without turning.

“I’m not here for small talk.”

He turned slowly, calm as ever. “Of course not. You’re here because you lost something.”

She crossed her arms. “Did you have anything to do with Trendon & Co. pulling out?”

“I don’t interfere with my competitors,” he said smoothly.

“That wasn’t a no.”

He stepped closer, gaze unreadable. “If your foundation is that fragile, Ava, maybe you should consider the offer more seriously.”

Her jaw locked. “You came into my office, tried to buy me out, and when I said what? You sabotage my business to make me crawl back?”

“Crawl?” He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want you to crawl.”

“Then what do you want?”

The tension between them stretched like a live wire. For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Luca’s voice dropped cool, low, and certain.

“You.”

Ava’s breath caught, but she didn’t back down.

“You want me?”

He took another step, closer now. Too close.

“I always take what I want.”

Ava didn’t flinch.

Not even when his words slid between them like a live current.

“I always take what I want.”

She tilted her chin up, fire in her eyes. “Then maybe it’s time someone told you no and made it stick.”

He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You think you’re the first person to stand up to me?”

“No,” she said, voice low. “But I’ll be the one you remember.”

That smile faded.

The tension shifted. Still sharp, but something else was threading through it nowsomething slower. He was watching her differently now, not like a threat to crush, but like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. Or maybe didn’t want to.

Ava’s phone buzzed in her hand.

She ignored it.

“I don’t care how much money you have,” she said, keeping her voice even. “You don’t get to play games with people’s livelihoods.”

“I didn’t sabotage your account,” he said calmly. “But I won’t apologize for being an opportunity.”

She scoffed. “Opportunity? You think that’s what this is?”

“I think,” he said, stepping forward again, “you’d rather go down swinging than accept help from someone you don’t trust.”

Her jaw clenched.

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you built something out of nothing. That you’re good. And that you hate that I noticed.”

She hated how steady his voice was. How close he’d gotten without touching her.

“I don’t need your compliments.”

“Not a compliment. Just a fact.”

She took a step back. He didn’t follow. His restraint made it worse.

Her phone buzzed again.

She checked it this timeout of habit.

Unknown Number:

Nice office. Shame if it were gone too.

Her stomach dropped.

Luca watched her carefully. “Something wrong?”

She showed him the message.

His brow furrowed, just slightly but it was enough.

“That wasn’t you?” she asked, quietly now.

“No,” he said. And this time, he sounded different. Sharper. Like he didn’t like being left out of something.

Another buzz.

Unknown Number:

Time to play, Ava Sinclair. Say goodbye to what you built 

Ava’s grip on the phone tightened. Her stomach clenched with something colder than something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

Powerlessness.

She looked up. Luca’s expression was still composed, but his eyes had changed.

“They’re threatening you

“I don’t know who ‘they’ are.” She held up the phone. “But someone has access to my number and knows exactly where I work.”

Luca took a slow step forward. Not threatening, but steadylike he was assessing something deeper than what she’d shown.

“Let me see the message again,” he said.

She hesitated, then handed the phone over.

He studied it, jaw tight. When he spoke, the cold CEO edge was gonereplaced by something quieter. Controlled, but no less dangerous.

“This isn’t just pressure,” he muttered. “This is a warning.”

Ava folded her arms. “From who? A rival of yours? Someone pissed that I told you no?”

“Could be business. Could be personal.” His voice darkened. “Either way, you’re now involved in something you didn’t sign up for.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, so now I’m part of your mess?”

“No,” he said flatly. “Now it’s ours.”

Ava stared at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need saving.”

“This isn’t about ego,” Luca snapped. “This is about being smart.”

The air between them thickened and charged with something that wasn’t just fear. Or anger. It was close. Heat. The kind that blurred judgment.

He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Whoever this is, they know how to hit you where it hurts. That means they’ve been watching. And they’re not bluffing.”

Her throat tightened. He was right and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

“I can handle it,” she said, even though part of her wasn’t sure anymore.

He handed her phone back. “You’re smart, Ava. Tough. But this?” He motioned to the screen. “This isn’t a normal business threat. This is personal. And if you try to go at it alone, you’ll lose.”

She looked away for a moment, jaw clenched, mind racing. Whoever was behind this wasn’t just trying to ruin her, they were enjoying it. The messages weren’t demanded. They were games.

“You think this is someone targeting you?” she asked, cautiously. “Trying to get to you through me?”

Luca’s expression shifted subtly, but real. “I’ve made enemies,” he said. “But this? I don’t recognize it. And that’s the problem.”

He wasn’t bluffing. That was the part that twisted something in her chest.

Ava had come here ready to fight him. To throw every ounce of anger and suspicion in his face. But now?

Now she was leaving with more questions than when she walked in.

And worse somehow, she trusted him more than she wanted to.

“I need to get back to my office,” she said finally.

He nodded, but his eyes stayed on her. Watching. Calculating.

“Be careful who you trust,” he said. “And keep your phone close.”

She started toward the elevator, but he called after her.

“Ava.”

She turned.

“If anything else happens,” he said, “you call me. No pride. No fight. Just call.”

The door slid shut between them before she could decide if she hated how comforting that sounded 

Back at her office, Ava unlocked her door and froze.

Someone had been inside.

And they’d left a single item on her desk.

A white envelope, with her name written in blood-red ink.