Chapter 7 : Echoes of Betrayal

The elevator doors opened to a hush that felt heavier than silence.

Ethan stepped into the glass-walled boardroom, every movement carved with purpose. Rain streaked the skyline behind him; the city looked like it was holding its breath.

The executives were already seated. Lucas Grant sat nearest to the end of the table, scrolling through his tablet as if nothing had happened. Ava slipped in behind Ethan, her heels clicking softly, her presence quieter but no less commanding.

Ethan placed a folder on the table. “Let’s not waste time,” he said. “We all know why we’re here.”

Lucas gave a cool smile. “You sound tense, Ethan. Bad morning?”

Ethan’s voice stayed calm, but it vibrated with steel. “I could ask the same. Offshore accounts. Encrypted transfers. The same firm you insisted I keep at arm’s length just happened to receive our confidential files.”

A ripple of murmurs ran around the table. Lucas leaned back, folding his arms. “That’s a serious accusation.”

“It’s not an accusation,” Ethan said, flipping the folder open and sliding a printed report toward him. “It’s evidence.”

Ava watched as Lucas’s smirk faltered. Ethan didn’t raise his voice, yet the air crackled with restrained fury.

“I gave you my trust,” Ethan continued, each word precise. “Ten years, Lucas. And you sold it for a fraction of what this company’s worth.”

Lucas’s fingers tightened around the paper. “You don’t understand—”

“Oh, I understand perfectly.” Ethan’s tone cut through the interruption. “You were tired of living in my shadow, so you sold your loyalty to the one person desperate enough to buy it.”

The boardroom door opened with a soft chime. Lydia Raine swept in, perfume preceding her like a weapon.

“Well,” she said smoothly, “don’t stop on my account.”

Ava’s stomach tightened. Lydia’s smile was all silk and venom.

“Lydia,” Ethan said flatly. “You weren’t invited.”

“I never need an invitation.” She turned to Lucas, then back to Ethan. “You should thank him. Without Lucas, I wouldn’t know your precious empire bleeds after all.”

“Get out,” Ethan said.

Lydia tilted her head. “You always were dramatic.”

“Security will escort you if you don’t.”

She laughed softly, the sound like shattered glass. “You can’t scare me anymore, Ethan. You may own your towers and your headlines, but you don’t own the truth.”

“And what truth is that?” Ava asked, stepping forward.

Lydia’s gaze flicked to her, disdain curling her lips. “That fairy-tale wife of his won’t save him when the world realizes he’s built everything on lies.”

Ava met her stare evenly. “You’d be surprised how much damage two people who actually believe in each other can survive.”

Something flickered in Lydia’s eyes — irritation, maybe envy. She gave a short, brittle laugh. “We’ll see.”

She turned on her heel and walked out, her heels echoing down the hall.

When the door shut, the room fell silent again. Ethan’s composure cracked for the first time. “Meeting adjourned,” he said hoarsely. “Everyone out.”

The executives obeyed, some exchanging uneasy glances as they left. Soon only Ethan and Ava remained.

He dropped into a chair, elbows on the table, pressing his hands against his temples. “She was right about one thing,” he muttered. “I built this empire too fast, too high. One weak foundation, and everything starts to fall.”

Ava walked to him slowly. “You’re allowed to be angry, Ethan. Just don’t let it break you.”

He gave a hollow laugh. “You think I’m breaking?”

“I think you’re human,” she said softly. “And that scares you more than losing money.”

He looked up, meeting her eyes. “You shouldn’t see me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Exposed. Flawed. Weak.”

She shook her head. “That’s the first time you’ve looked real.”

Ethan rose, his chair scraping lightly against the floor. He was close now — too close. The distance between them felt fragile, like glass ready to crack.

“Every time you talk like that,” he said quietly, “you make it harder to remember that this is supposed to be a contract.”

“Then maybe stop pretending it is.”

His breath hitched, the faintest tremor in his mask of control. He reached up, fingertips brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. His hand lingered there, warm against her skin.

“You’re impossible,” he whispered.

“So you’ve told me.”

Their eyes held — a silent conversation neither dared to voice. Then he exhaled, stepping back. “If I don’t fix this, Ava, thousands of people lose their jobs. I can’t afford distraction.”

“Then let me be your calm, not your chaos,” she said.

For a heartbeat, the storm outside and the one inside him both stilled. Ethan gave a small nod. “Stay close. Don’t trust anyone who calls.”

“I never do,” she said gently. “Except you.”

He gave a faint, disbelieving smile. “That might be your first mistake.”

When he turned to leave, Ava caught his hand. “Ethan.”

He paused.

“You’re not alone in this.”

He looked at their joined hands, then at her. Something unspoken passed between them — a promise, fragile but real.

Then he pulled away, his expression unreadable again, and walked out into the storm.

Ava watched him go, her heart thudding against her ribs. She knew the fight ahead would be ruthless. Lydia wouldn’t stop; neither would the press.

But what terrified her most wasn’t the scandal or the secrets.

It was how much she already cared for the man everyone else feared.

Outside, thunder rolled again — not the sound of an ending, but of something powerful beginning.