Chapter 8 – The Calm Before the Storm

The rain finally stopped sometime before dawn, leaving the city draped in mist. From the penthouse window, Ava watched the skyline come alive again — glass towers gleaming, traffic moving like veins of light through the streets. It was beautiful, in a lonely kind of way.

Ethan hadn’t come home all night.

His side of the bed was untouched. The clock on the nightstand glowed 5:47 a.m., and she was still in the same silk robe she’d worn since midnight, her thoughts replaying the confrontation in the boardroom again and again.

The betrayal.

The look in Ethan’s eyes when he realized how deep it went.

The way he’d walked away without saying another word.

A soft chime broke her thoughts. Her phone vibrated — a text from an unknown number.

> UNKNOWN: You should ask your husband what really happened to Lydia Raine’s company.

Some secrets can ruin more than reputations.

Ava’s stomach tightened. She stared at the message, then locked her phone and placed it facedown on the table. She wasn’t going to feed whoever it was.

Still, the words burned in her mind.

When Ethan finally returned, sunlight had begun to push through the clouds. He looked like he’d aged a decade in one night — tie loosened, jaw tight, eyes rimmed with exhaustion.

“You haven’t slept,” he said quietly.

“Neither have you,” she replied.

He gave a faint, humorless smile. “Touché.”

Ava crossed her arms. “You disappeared without saying a word.”

“I had to meet the board again. We’re restructuring the accounts, freezing the leaks. It’s handled.”

“Is it?” she asked softly. “Because the man I saw yesterday looked like someone who’d just watched everything he built start to crumble.”

Ethan looked away. “I can’t afford to fall apart, Ava.”

“Then maybe you should let someone help you hold it together.”

Something in her tone made him look back at her. His guard faltered for the briefest second.

He took a step closer. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I’m not asking,” she said. “I’m here, Ethan. Whether you let me in or not, I’m not leaving.”

Silence filled the room — the kind that buzzed with too many words left unsaid. Then Ethan exhaled, slow and tired. “There’s something you should know about Lydia.”

Her heartbeat quickened. “What about her?”

He hesitated, then went to the bar, pouring a glass of water as if the motion might calm him. “Years ago, before any of this… I invested in her company. It was meant to be a partnership — personal and professional. She wanted more than I could give. When I ended it, she took it as betrayal.”

“And now she’s trying to destroy you,” Ava murmured.

He nodded once. “She knows where to strike. She always did.”

Ava studied him. “Then maybe it’s time someone else learned how to strike back.”

A small spark of amusement flickered in his eyes. “You?”

“Me,” she said simply. “You underestimate how resourceful I can be.”

For the first time that morning, Ethan smiled — faint but real. “Remind me not to cross you.”

“You already did,” she teased, and he let out a low laugh that sounded almost like relief.

But before she could enjoy the moment, the intercom buzzed.

Ethan pressed the button. “Yes?”

“Sir, the press are downstairs,” his assistant’s voice came through. “Someone leaked photos of you and Mrs. Hale from last night’s gala. They’re saying the marriage was staged.”

Ethan’s expression darkened. “Of course they are.”

Ava’s pulse quickened. “What do we do?”

“We don’t feed them,” he said. “Stay inside. I’ll deal with it.”

“Ethan—”

He turned to her, the controlled CEO mask sliding back into place. “I’ll protect you from this. I promise.”

She watched him leave again, frustration tightening her chest. She didn’t want protection. She wanted partnership. But how do you convince a man like Ethan Hale — who’s spent his whole life behind walls — that he doesn’t have to face the world alone?

---

By afternoon, the headlines were everywhere.

> “Fake Marriage? Hale Industries Under Fire.”

“Ava Hale: The CEO’s Convenient Bride?”

The comments were worse. People picking apart her smile, her dress, her worth.

Ava sat at the edge of the sofa, scrolling until she couldn’t anymore. Then she set the phone aside and stared out the window again.

That was when she saw her — Lydia Raine, standing across the street, her reflection caught in the glass doors of the building opposite.

Even from that distance, Ava could see the smug tilt of her mouth.

Lydia raised her phone, pretending to check messages, but the intent was clear. She wanted Ava to see her.

Ava’s fear melted into something colder — determination.

She picked up her phone and called Ethan’s assistant. “Tell Mr. Hale I’m going to the foundation gala tonight. Alone.”

“Ma’am—Mr. Hale said—”

“I know what he said,” Ava interrupted gently. “Just tell him I said it’s time the world saw the real Mrs. Hale.”

She hung up before the assistant could protest.

---

That night, as Ava stood before the mirror in a gown the color of moonlight, she barely recognized herself. The woman staring back wasn’t the uncertain, quiet designer who’d once doubted her place in Ethan’s world.

This woman was poised, fierce, unshakable.

When she stepped out of the car at the gala entrance, the flashes started immediately — photographers shouting her name, reporters calling out questions.

But Ava didn’t flinch. She smiled, every movement deliberate, graceful. She was no longer Ethan Hale’s convenient wife. She was his equal — and Lydia Raine was about to learn that the calm before the storm was over.