All Chapters of Married to my Arrogant Sponsor : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Friday afternoon in the Advocacy & Ethics Division felt deceptively calm. Ava paced the hallway, her heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. A new volunteer orientation was winding down and she’d promised Luisa she’d pop in before it wrapped. But something heavier tugged at her chest like a storm wall looming just beyond her office door.Inside, Luisa sat at her desk, face pale, pencil hovering over a resignation letter she refused to send. Two interns hovered nearby, mouths pressed into thin lines. The room tasted of tension and unsaid things.Ava cleared her throat softly. “Everyone okay?”Luisa swallowed. “Samira’s quitting.”Ava’s heart dropped like a stone. Samira brilliant, passionate, empathetic Samira the intern she’d fought to keep, the one whose boundary setting had reminded her of everything she’d once promised this place would be. The same person who, just months ago, had caused division by speaking out about staff wellness

A week’s worth of progress. A sanctuary built with intention. And now, a missing file threatened to undermine it all.It started on a Tuesday morning.Ava arrived at Wolfe & Sinclair’s Advocacy Division coffee in hand and confidence back. Her schedule included meetings with survivor partners and board preparations, but her first stop was the open office. She wanted to feel their energy before diving in.That’s when Luisa intercepted her near the reception desk, frowning over her phone.“Got a minute?”Ava nodded, sensing the tension.Luisa led her to the glass walled conference room. She tapped on her phone screen and handed it to Ava.A database alert: “Access Denied File: Isla Kerr Case Time: 7:02 PM Yesterday.”Ava’s stomach dropped. Isla Kerr a woman Ava was trying to find was central to a class action report she’d been building. That file was the intersection of advocacy and strategy, and now it was locked

Late one Tuesday evening, the Advocacy & Ethics Division’s office was quite mostly save for the hum of dimmed computers. Ava worked under the soft glow of her desk lamp, refining the public letter she planned to send about the Isla Kerr case. Outside her window, the city’s lights flickered, and she felt a thrill surge beneath her exhaustion: clarity. This was her purpose.Then, an alert ping on her screen.From an anonymous sender: “Next time you leak, it won’t be words. It’ll be real.”Her skin prickled cold. She clicked but paused. Was it a misdirect? A threat aimed at someone else? But the subject line read: “I see you.”She swallowed, a cold pit settling in her stomach. She hadn’t shared this draft beyond her circle. This message had surfaced instantly. Someone was watching. And it wasn’t part of the foundation’s strategy.Ava closed her laptop carefully, noticing for the first time how quiet the office felt. She picked up her phone.

The office was unusually quiet that Thursday morning. Ava noticed it the moment she stepped in the kind of silence that doesn’t belong to peace, but to panic disguised as composure.She walked into the main workroom, eyes sweeping over half raised heads and quickly minimized screens.Luisa intercepted her halfway through the room.“We have a situation,” she said softly, her face tight.Ava raised a brow. “What kind of situation?”Luisa hesitated, then handed her a tablet. “Naomi sent a file to the wrong contact.”Ava frowned. “What file?”“The draft exposé for the Adira case. It included survivor names real ones.”Ava’s stomach dropped.“Who did she send it to?” she asked, trying to stay calm.Luisa bit her lip. “An external journalist. One who already had issues with our foundation.”Ava turned, already walking toward her office. “Where’s Naomi?”“In the wellness room. She’s…

The envelope was tucked deep inside the drawer of Ava’s office desk one she never used. The drawer still smelled like cedar and lemon polish, barely touched since move in day. She hadn’t meant to open it. She’d been looking for a misplaced charger. What she found instead… wasn’t hers.Cream-colored envelope. Her name written in sharp, familiar handwriting. No stamp. No return address.Ava.She sat down slowly, heart tapping against her ribs.The seal had already been broken. Gently, she slid the letter out. Folded once. No date.She read:Ava,If you’re reading this, it means I never got the courage to give it to you.There’s something you need to know about Wolfe International, about Elena, and about me.I’m not the man you think I am. I wanted to be, God knows I tried.But there are decisions I made early on that I buried beneath ambition. You were never supposed to see the cost.Elena didn’t just