MasukAva's Pov
Mia didn’t say anything at first. She just stared at me from across the kitchen, her fingers wrapped tightly around a mug of coffee that had long gone cold, like she’d forgotten it existed. Her eyes were locked on me—searching, calculating, waiting for me to say something that would make sense of what clearly didn’t.
The room was silent for a long time.
Chloe, on the other hand, had no patience for silence. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting down hard on her lower lip. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her arm, her entire body vibrating with restrained urgency. She wanted answers. No—she needed them.
“I walked in on him,” I repeated. My voice was quiet and level. “In our bed.”
Mia blinked slowly. “Ava…”
“With a man.” I let out a short, dry laugh. “He didn't even have the decency to go to a hotel.”
“Okay. Wait,” Chloe said, rubbing her face with her palm. “Start from the beginning.”
“There is no beginning,” I said. “That was the end. Everything ended in that moment.”
My fingers curled against the edge of the granite counter, pressing hard enough to ground me. The cool surface bit into my skin, but it wasn’t enough to distract from the image burned into my mind.
The room. The sheets. The way the afternoon light had spilled across them like it didn’t care what it was illuminating.
Chloe was pacing now, her fist in tight knots, I almost laughed as I pictured her hitting his smug face.
“I keep replaying it,” I admitted. “I keep looking for an explanation that makes it less humiliating.”
Mia’s expression became firm. “Ava, no. There is no version of that situation that is acceptable.”
I shook my head and looked at the floor. “I was going to marry him. The fact is, I chose him.”
“Listen to me,” Chloe said, leaning forward. “You didn’t lose anything here. He is the one who lost a future with you.”
I didn’t respond. It sounded like something people say to be kind, but it didn't change my reality.
What I didn’t say was worse.
I didn't tell them about the night at the club. Admitting that I had tried to pay a stranger for his company felt like another layer of humiliation I wasn't ready to share. I kept that memory locked away, just like I had done with Ethan’s constant, ignored calls before I finally blocked his number.
Three days. That’s all it had been.
Three days since I walked out of that house with nothing but my car and a handbag. Three days since Mia opened her home to me without asking questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
Emails kept coming in, one after another, piling up in my inbox like nothing had changed. The city outside Mia’s apartment buzzed with its usual chaos—honking cars, distant voices, life moving forward at an unforgiving pace.
I stood in front of the full-length mirror and adjusted the lapel of my blazer.
“You’ve changed your outfit twice,” Mia said from the bed.
Chloe had already left to get ready at her place, promising to meet us later.
“I am making sure I look composed,” I replied.
“You are staring at yourself like you’re preparing for a physical fight.”
I didn’t answer because she was correct. Today was the final acquisition of the Aurelius Group. It was the result of months of negotiations and intense pressure. I refused to lose my professional standing along with my relationship. I needed to be in control.
I grabbed my bag and straightened my posture. “Let’s go.”
The conference room was cold. I took my seat and placed my leather folder neatly on the table. Across the room, the legal teams spoke in low voices and shuffled through stacks of paper.
The lead counsel cleared his throat to get our attention. “As we finalize the transfer of ownership, all remaining documents will be signed under the authority of the incoming executive party.”
The room went quiet. No one had met the buyer yet. He had been nothing more than a name attached to contracts, a faceless entity with enough power to take control of everything in this building.
The door opened. A man walked in. He did not rush, and he did not look at the people at the table immediately. He moved with a level of confidence that changed the atmosphere of the room. He acted as if the building and everyone in it already belonged to him.
Power had a presence—and his was impossible to ignore.
I looked up. And the moment I saw his face—My heart slammed hard against my ribs.
The man from the club.
The one I hadn’t been able to forget, no matter how hard I tried.
Ava’s POVMy face stares back at me from the frozen preview screen, standing in Adrian’s office with his hand wrapped around my waist seconds before he kisses me. A pulse of panic shoots through me as I click the video open. The footage plays silently.I Watch myself walk into Adrian’s office earlier that afternoon, see the tension build between us. Every glance, each step closer. Every second that should have been private.Then the kiss happens. My stomach twists violently.The camera catches everything. Not just the kiss, but the way I kissed him back. “Oh my God…”I slam the laptop shut instantly like it somehow changes what I just saw. My chest rises sharply as I push away from the table, my pulse thundering so hard it hurts.There was a camera in Adrian’s office. Not just a camera but someone planted it there. And Ethan somehow has the footage. A cold realization crawls up my spine so slowly it makes me sick.This wasn’t random. He already knew. That’s why he asked. You kissed h
Ava’s POVThe door closes behind me, soft and almost weightless against the storm building inside my chest. I keep walking, one step after another, my heels striking the floor in a steady rhythm that doesn’t match the chaos in my pulse. I don’t stop in the hallway, not when the receptionist glances up, not when the elevator doors slide open. I step in alone, and the moment the doors shut, the control slips.My fingers press hard against my lips like I can erase what just happened, like I can undo the way he kissed me. God, that wasn’t supposed to happen, not again, not with him of all people. I squeeze my eyes shut, leaning back against the cold metal wall as the elevator begins to descend. My reflection stares back at me, composed on the outside but completely shattered underneath.“Get it together, Ava,” I whisper, the words sounding weaker than they should. This is how women lose, not in loud, dramatic moments, but in quiet lapses where logic disappears and something reckless takes
Ava’s POVIt’s been one week working for him. One week pretending I don’t remember the night we shared. One week of acting like nothing happened when everything changed. And the truth is, pretending is getting harder.Adrian Blackwood doesn’t miss a thing. Not the way my focus slips, not the way I hesitate before answering him, not even the way I avoid looking at him for too long. He watches like he’s waiting for something to break. And I refuse to let that be me.“Focus, Ms. Sinclair,” he says without looking up. I don’t respond immediately because I know he’s right. “I am focused,” I say anyway, even though we both know it’s not true. He doesn’t argue, which makes it worse.I go back to the files, forcing myself to concentrate. Numbers, contracts, transaction records—things that should be simple. But something feels off, like a pattern that doesn’t belong. And once I notice it, I can’t unsee it.I scroll back through the data slowly. The transaction routes look normal at first glanc
Adrian’s POVI see her the second she looks up, I recognize her instantly. The woman from the club. Same eyes. Same composure. But this time, there’s no alcohol to soften the edges. No dim lights to blur the details.I don’t break stride as I walk into the room. I can feel the shift around me—conversations dying, attention locking in—but I ignore all of it.My focus stays on her. I didn’t get to know her name but from the look on her face I know she recognized me too. She freezes for half a second, most people wouldn’t notice it but I did then it’s gone almost immediately.She straightens slightly in her chair, her expression smoothing into something professional, distant—like she’s trying to erase the fact that we’ve already crossed a line no one in this room knows exists.Too late, I thought. I take my seat at the head of the table like nothing has changed. Because for everyone else—Nothing has. But this just got a lot more interesting.“My name is Adrian Blackwood,” I say, my voice
Ava's PovMia didn’t say anything at first. She just stared at me from across the kitchen, her fingers wrapped tightly around a mug of coffee that had long gone cold, like she’d forgotten it existed. Her eyes were locked on me—searching, calculating, waiting for me to say something that would make sense of what clearly didn’t.The room was silent for a long time.Chloe, on the other hand, had no patience for silence. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting down hard on her lower lip. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her arm, her entire body vibrating with restrained urgency. She wanted answers. No—she needed them.“I walked in on him,” I repeated. My voice was quiet and level. “In our bed.”Mia blinked slowly. “Ava…”“With a man.” I let out a short, dry laugh. “He didn't even have the decency to go to a hotel.”“Okay. Wait,” Chloe said, rubbing her face with her palm. “Start from the beginning.”“There is no beginning,” I said. “That was the end. Everything ende
Ava's PovI thought the sound of laughter coming from our bedroom was the TV I’d forgotten to turn off. But as I pushed the door open, I realized the sound was much deeper, much more intimate, and coming from a man whose voice I didn’t recognize, wrapped in the arms of the man I was supposed to marry in a month.The air in the hallway felt like it had been sucked out of the house. I stood there, my hand still gripped tightly around the doorknob, watching the scene unfold in slow motion. Ethan, my fiancé of two years, had his head thrown back, his fingers buried in the dark, messy hair of a man I had never seen before. The stranger was pinned against our headboard, the one we’d picked out together because the wood matched the floor—and he was looking at Ethan with a look of naked hunger.It wasn't just the cheating that hit me. It was the familiarity of it. They weren't just caught in a moment of passion; they were comfortable. They were settled, as if it had been going on for ages.Et







