Chapter 5

We lay there for a moment, tangled in silence—our breaths still shallow, the room thick with the scent of sex and sweat and vanilla.

Ava’s skin glowed under the morning light seeping through the blinds. She looked like a goddess sprawled across my desk, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips, her legs still wrapped lazily around my waist.

“You needed that,” she murmured, running a slow finger down my chest.

“I needed you to stop texting when I tell you not to,” I replied, though my voice was softer than my words.

She giggled, not even pretending to feel sorry. “I missed your touch. I couldn’t help it.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but then,

Knock. Knock.

We froze.

The sound wasn’t loud, but it shattered the moment like glass.

Ava’s eyes widened.

My heart dropped.

Another knock—firmer this time. Three short taps.

“Sir?” a voice called from outside. My assistant. Rachel.

“Someone’s here to see you. Should I let her in?”

Her.

My blood turned cold.

I pulled away from Ava instantly, tucking myself back in with frantic, fumbling fingers. She jumped off the desk and adjusted her skirt, grabbing her blouse with trembling hands. Her breathing was still heavy. So was mine.

I rushed to the door but didn’t open it yet. “No!” I barked. “I mean—hold on. I’m... I’m in a call.”

“Alright, sir,” Rachel replied hesitantly.

Ava gave me a look. “You think it’s her?”

I didn’t answer.

I just stared at the door, feeling the sweat bead at the back of my neck. My heart was hammering.

What if it was Lydia?

What if she followed me?

What if—

The intercom buzzed.

Rachel’s voice again. “Sir, she says she’s a friend of yours. Wants to drop something off in person. Should I let her wait?”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Ava was already buttoning her blouse, fixing her curls in the tiny mirror near the window.

“Tell her I’m unavailable,” I said. “Whatever it is, she can leave it with you.”

Silence.

Then: “Alright, sir.”

I exhaled.

Ava glanced over at me. “We dodged that one,” she said, walking over and straightening my tie with teasing fingers. “But you’re playing a dangerous game, baby.”

I didn’t respond. My hands were still trembling slightly.

She kissed me again,quick, smug ,and walked toward the private exit at the back of my office.

Just before stepping out, she turned back and said, “I left my lipstick last time… but today, I made sure I took everything.”

Then she winked and disappeared.

Later that evening...

Lydia's phone lit up as she poured herself a glass of red wine in her silk robe.

An anonymous message.

"Ma’am, I think you deserve to know what your husband does when you’re not around. This is from today. In his office."

Attached: a video file.

She clicked it.

Watched.

And didn’t blink once.

Then… slowly, she smiled and went upstairs

Just then, her phone buzzed on the marble counter.

She glanced down.

"Let’s meet up, Lydia."

She wondered who it was but was so determined to get to the root.

An address followed seconds later , a secluded lounge on the island. Exclusive. Quiet. The kind of place where secrets are whispered over wine.

She stared at the message, heart still but mind racing.

That evening, Lydia transformed into fire and elegance. Her silk gown hugged her like a second skin, a deep red that kissed the floor and clung to her curves. Her heels clicked with purpose. Her makeup was flawless — dangerous even.

She wasn’t just dressing to impress.

She was dressing for war.

As she arrived at the dimly lit lounge, the air changed. Velvet couches, low jazz, gold-toned lighting. A single reserved table glowed in the corner, waiting.

She stepped forward, clutch tight around her glittered purse.

But then , a shadow moved.

From behind the curtain, someone stepped into view.

Ava.

Lydia froze.

Her heels stopped mid-stride.

Ava’s eyes widened with something closer to curiosity… and thrill.

For a second, silence choked the space between them bleeding quietly between them.

Ava broke the silence first, her voice smooth.

“You came.”

Lydia’s lips parted, but no sound came out.

Ava took a slow step forward, her stilettos sinking softly into the velvet rug. The lighting kissed her skin just right — sultry, polished, deliberate. Her black dress was dangerously low at the back, hugging her hips like it was custom-made for seduction.

Lydia didn’t flinch.

She only smiled. Slowly. Softly. The kind of smile that said: You’ve played your move. Now watch mine.

They stood across from each other — poised like queens before a dangerous duel.

Ava pulled out the seat across the table and motioned. “Sit,” she said. “Let’s not pretend we don’t know why we’re here.”

Lydia walked over with the grace of someone who didn’t lose often. She sat, legs crossed, spine straight, elegance dripping like honey.

“I must say…” Ava continued, her eyes scanning Lydia’s diamond earrings and flawless skin. “You look... breathtaking.”

“So do you,” Lydia replied, her voice velvet wrapped around steel. “Though I prefer you from a distance.”

The waiter arrived, and Ava ordered for both — red wine, bold and rich. Lydia didn’t object.

After a long sip, Ava leaned in. “You know what your husband told me last week?” she purred. “He said I taste like danger.”

Lydia’s smile widened.

“And yet,” she said, lifting her glass, “he still crawls back to my bed. Every. Single. Time.”

Ava’s brow lifted , intrigued. Impressed, even.

“So... what do we do now?” Ava whispered.

There was a pause. Tension stretched between them like a string ready to snap.

Then Lydia leaned forward, brushing her fingers against Ava’s wine glass.

“We get even.”

Ava blinked. “With who?”

Lydia’s smile turned wicked. “With each other. And then… with him.”

Ava’s breath caught —m, but she didn’t back away.

Instead, her lips curled.

“Tell me more.”