Avatar Watches Mga Nobela at Kwento

No POV: "Look at her, gorgeously wrapped in my arms. What say, Abhi?" Darsh caught Ava as she closed her eyes helplessly. Abhi gripped the phone, staring at the screen. Priti and Virin turned their faces away, unable to bear Ava's state. Darsh tilted the phone, capturing his moments as he pulled Ava closer, cuddling her. She tried to cover her exposed chest with weak movements, but he only adjusted the angle, capturing more of her. He looked at the camera, nuzzling into her skin.

he muttered, rising from his chair. He poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid catching the light as he swirled it thoughtfully. If Linda wanted to talk, he would let her—on his terms. As he stood by the window, gazing out at the city lights, his thoughts drifted back to Ava. He didn’t know how long it would take to earn her trust again, but he was willing to try. Back at Ava’s apartment, the watcher adjusted his position, his sharp eyes fixed on the building. He hadn’t been given details about why the woman was important—only that his boss, Alexander, had ordered her protection.

“You lost that right.” Adrian stepped closer, slowly and his hand lifted, like he wanted to touch her but then he stopped, his eyes narrowed, confused.“…What is that?” Ava didn’t move. Adrian looked down and small red dots were on his chest. His heartbeat picked up as he looked around instinctively. Ava spoke calmly,“Damien has men watching me.” “Watching you? And you're still with him?” Adrian asked surprised “It’s for my safety, they are protecting me from you…if you touch me…” she continued, her voice steady, almost proud, “…they’ll shoot.”

He simply let the screen go dark. Moments later, it vibrated again. Another call. This time, he didn’t look. He placed the phone face down on the table, his expression returning to calm detachment. Across the city, Ava sat on the edge of her bed, her world far quieter. She held a small velvet box in her hands, her fingers brushing lightly over the surface before she opened it. Inside rested a sleek, elegant watch, its polished silver catching the light. A soft smile touched her lips as she imagined it on Noah’s wrist.

It rang twice before it was answered. “Sir?” “I need someone watched,” I said quietly. A pause. “Who?” “Ava Ross.” “Level of surveillance?” I stared out at the city, voice steady. “Full.” “Discreet?” “Completely. I don’t want this traced back to me.” “Understood.” The line went dead. I slipped the phone into my pocket and turned back toward the desk. For a moment, I said nothing, I just stood there. Then my gaze fell on a printed photo from the gala, already circulating among press previews.

She clicked into a sub-folder labeled MIRROR_TRANSFERS. The screen blinked, and a series of high-definition video thumbnails populated the left monitor. They weren't from the security cameras downtown. They were taken from the hidden pinhole lens built directly into the smart-display frame hanging right above their living room fireplace—the custom art piece Michael had bought her for their second anniversary. Ava didn't freeze this time. Her investigator training took over, a cold, analytical armor sliding down over her emotions before the images could puncture her hyper-vigilance. She opened the first video file.

Her breath caught as he pulled her closer, their bodies aligning in a way that felt so right, even though she knew it shouldn’t. "You were always mine." His lips trailed down her neck, his breath warm against her skin. She closed her eyes, the weight of his words wrapping around her like a soft, suffocating shroud. Ava Watches, Waiting for Her Turn Ava sat at her desk, her fingers resting lightly on the keyboard. The security footage from the penthouse was still playing in front of her, showing Adrian and Claire locked in a silent war of wills. Damon stood by the window, his expression unreadable as he stared at the screen.

Ava's eyes scanned the screens, her gaze lingering on each face, until they finally stopped on Amelia and Lisa as they exited the penthouse and walked towards the car waiting for them outside. A scornful smile curved on her lips, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Fools," she whispered to herself, "they have no idea what they've just walked into." Her eyes remained fixed on the screens, her mind already plotting her next move, as she began to manipulate the surveillance footage, her fingers flying across the control panel with a sinister grace.

The shark’s flat, grey-blue eye rolled over to look at Ava—a cold, indifferent assessment of meat that would, inevitably, fall into the water. On the other side of the one-way glass, inside the dry, climate-controlled observation deck, Landon Voss stood watching. He swirled a glass of vintage red wine, the crimson liquid catching the dim light of the control room. His gaze was fixed on the surveillance monitors that offered high-definition angles of the woman in the cage. His eyes traced the curve of her neck, the arch of her spine, devouring her image inch by inch.

Murmurs rose as soon as he entered. Unlike Hope and Barron, Anesidora was unknown to everyone. Here only 3 people knew more about him than his Avatar's status, Iris, Dean Candace, and even a man in the audience, a man who saw him fight Barron and almost defeat him, a man who trembled during Hope's fight: Albert. "You better use something new, I didn't come here just to see another flower power!" Each of them looked attentively at the one designed by the strongest as the future strongest. In her office, the Dean watched through a magic ball.