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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Author: Black Willows
last update publish date: 2026-08-04 03:43:19

Ava's POV

I reached for my bag and then didn't pick it up.

I stood there a second too long in the middle of my own office, staring at a chair Ryan had been sitting in ten minutes ago, at a printout he'd left folded open to section four like he wanted me to know exactly where to look. The building had gone that particular kind of quiet that only happens after seven — no phones, no printer humming, just the low tick of the air conditioning and my own pulse doing something I didn't appreciate.

I p
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  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

    Ava's POVI made him wait two days before I answered, on principle. Anyone with a legitimate offer could survive forty-eight hours of silence. If he couldn't, that told me something too.Me: Phone call. Tomorrow, 2pm. No in-person meeting until I know who I'm actually speaking with.The reply came fast, faster than I liked: Understood. I'll call your direct line.Sophie sat in on the call the next afternoon, laptop open, ready to take notes I couldn't rely on catching myself since a phone call meant no lips to read, only Sophie's hands translating in real time while a stranger's voice ran through her into mine. I'd asked Marcus to loop in on mute as well, just to have a second set of ears on the financial specifics, and by two o'clock my office had the particular hush of a room bracing for something.The phone rang exactly on time."Ms. Carter. Thank you for making time." The voice was smooth, mid-Atlantic, practiced in the particular way that made me distrust it before he'd finished

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

    Ryan's POVDorian wanted to meet somewhere dim and forgettable, which told me plenty before he'd said a word — a scotch bar three blocks from his office, the kind of place with no sign out front and a bartender who didn't ask questions about tabs closed in cash.He was already at a corner table when I got there, tie loosened, two fingers of something amber in front of him that he hadn't touched yet. Four years hadn't changed much about Dorian — same easy grin that never quite reached past his mouth, same watch worth more than most people's cars, same instinct for knowing exactly how much information to trade for exactly how much it cost him."Ryan." He didn't stand, just gestured at the empty chair across from him with the same practiced charm he'd used in Singapore right before that deal fell apart under both of us. "You look like a man who's been doing well for himself.""You called me, Dorian. Let's skip the part where we pretend you're happy to see me."He laughed, short, and fina

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER FORTY

    Adrian's POVGrant answered on the third ring, background noise behind him suggesting he was somewhere with traffic, a headset probably clipped to one ear while he drove toward whatever his next job was."Mr. Cole. Wasn't expecting to hear from you until Friday.""This isn't about Ava." I stood at my study window, the grounds gone dark outside, the fountain lit from below in a way that made the water look colder than it actually was. "I need you to redirect. New scope."A pause, brief, the sound of him adjusting something on his end — pulling over, maybe, or reaching for a notepad. "I'm listening.""The Whitmore party. The one that started everything. I want you to find out who else was in that hotel that night — staff, guests, anyone with access to the private function rooms between nine and eleven. Cross-reference the guest list if you can get it, and cross-reference all of it against a timeline I'll send you. Specifically, I want to know where Vivian Ashcroft was during that window

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

    Vivian's POVI booked the corner table at Amara's myself this time, because leaving reservations to Adrian's other assistant had gotten me a table by the kitchen door twice in the last month, and I was done pretending that didn't feel like a message.He arrived twelve minutes late, which was unlike him, and slid into his seat with an apology that sounded like it belonged to someone else's mouth. I'd learned to read the weather in his face by now — four years of practice — and tonight's forecast was somewhere I hadn't charted before. Not the blank distraction from two weeks ago. Sharper. Deliberate."You look like you've been thinking hard about something," I said, pouring his wine before the waiter could, my hand steady, my smile easy. "Good thinking or bad thinking?""Old business." He turned his glass by the stem without drinking from it. "Something from the family archive I finally got around to reading properly."I kept my expression warm, curious, nothing more than a woman intere

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

    Ava's POVFacilities needed sign-off on the east wing renovation before Friday, and Marcus had flagged Thomas Bellamy as the point person for logistics, which meant I found myself back in the same stairwell corridor I'd stood in two weeks ago, this time with a clipboard instead of a payroll box."Ms. Carter." He straightened from where he'd been marking measurements on the wall, tape measure retracting with a snap. "Wasn't expecting you for this. Figured Marcus would just email it over."‘I wanted to see the space myself before I signed off on the budget.’ Sophie caught up a step behind me, and I watched Thomas's shoulders settle into the easy, professional posture he probably used for every executive who walked this hallway, no trace left of the raw moment we'd shared here two weeks earlier.We walked the corridor together, him pointing out load-bearing concerns, me nodding along, asking the kind of practical questions that had nothing to do with anything except drywall and electrica

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

    Ryan's POVI brought Thai again, mostly because it worked the first time and I'd never been the kind of man who fixed something that wasn't broken.Her office door was open when I got there, which was new — most nights lately I'd found it half-shut, a signal I'd learned to read without needing words attached to it. Tonight it sat wide open, and Nora was propped in her car seat on the guest chair, red-faced and fussing, one small fist working against the strap like she had somewhere better to be.Ava didn't look up from her laptop. "If you're here to tell me to go home, save it.""I'm here because I remembered you like extra lime." I set the bag down and crossed to the car seat instead of the desk, crouching until I was at Nora's eye level. She stopped fussing long enough to study me with the deep suspicion of a person meeting a stranger for the second time and not entirely trusting the first impression. "Rough day, huh."‘She's still not sleeping right. Fever broke yesterday but she's

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER ONE

    Ava’s POV~~~"I hate you to the bone, do you know that?"His voice hit me before I even had a chance to fully process what was happening. I had been standing by the living room entrance when Adrian came in, and I had made the mistake — the same mistake I made every single day — of hoping that today

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   PROLOGUE

    || Ava' POV ||The fact that my life was far from perfect was a fact I had to live with and of course make myself embrace ever since I was a young girl.I had a father who gambled away everything he touched…and a brother who treated me like something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe…and a condi

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER FIFTEEN

    {Ryan's POV}I was still thinking about it an hour after it happened.I had watched a lot of people handle difficult moments in professional settings over the past few years — had sat across boardroom tables from men twice my age crumbling under pressure, had watched people with far more experience

  • The Muted Wife’s Return   CHAPTER FIVE

    {Ava's POV}I stared at the message I had just sent and listened to my heart pound.Mr. Harold Bennett had been my father's closest friend and business partner for nearly two decades — the kind of man who had been a fixture at our dinner table when my mother was still alive, who had always spoken to

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