ETHAN'S POV
I never liked parties. Not even the ones thrown in my name.
But the gala had been necessary. An illusion of perfection.
An arrangement of appearances. For the media. For the board. For the sharks who watched my every move.
I stood alone in my office the morning after, the city blinking awake behind the glass wall. Sunlight spilled into the room, turning the floor golden, but all I saw were shadows.
Ava's scent lingered faintly in the air, something soft and floral. She'd left before I woke up. I wasn't surprised. I wouldn't have stayed
either.
My tie lay crumpled on the edge of my desk. My jacket had been tossed across the couch. I looked like someone who had partied too hard.
But the only thing I was intoxicated by was silence.
And the memory of her eyes.
Ava had worn red. Not because it was flattering, though it
was, but because she knew it would unsettle them.
My family. The guests. Everyone who had come expecting to
see a docile bride.
She'd looked powerful.
Like someone I couldn't own. Couldn't control.
And somehow, that had made her even more dangerous.
I sat down at my desk and opened my laptop. Emails flooded the screen. My assistant had labeled half of them urgent. Mergers.
Press releases. A leaked video of Ava laughing with my cousin by the champagne bar.
"Trending," the subject line said. As if her smile was a stock price.
I didn't click it.
Instead, I opened the security footage from the estate. Not because I didn't trust her. But because I didn't trust anyone else.
One clip caught my attention, Ava stepping onto the balcony alone, clutching her glass like a lifeline. A few minutes later, she was joined
by Logan.
"Logan". I paused the screen as his hand brushed her lower back.
The ice that bloomed in my chest was instant. Stupid. Irrational, but real.
I shut the laptop and leaned back in my chair.
This wasn't jealousy. I didn't have the right.
This was about control.
About the plan.
She wasn't supposed to matter. Not beyond the contract.
Not beyond the Kingsley name.
And yet here I was, staring at a paused frame of her smiling
at another man like it was a crime.
A knock on the door jolted me.
Diane entered, tablet in hand. "The press wants a follow-up interview about last night. Shall I confirm?"
"No."
She blinked. "But you said"
"I said no, Diane."
She nodded, then paused. "You saw the footage."
Of course she knew.
"She's allowed to laugh," I said.
"She's also your wife."
"By contract."
"And yet you're acting like she's more than that."
I didn't answer.
Diane didn't press. She never did when she knew I was spiraling.
"She makes people talk, Ethan. And that's good for now. But if this spirals…"
"It won't," I said sharply. "I'll handle it."
When she left, I poured myself a glass of scotch. Ten in the morning. Who cared.
I was losing focus.
And the worst part was, I didn't want it back.
I wanted Ava to walk back into this room and argue with me.
Call me out. Tell me what she really thought of all this. The fake smiles. Thecold war.
Because when she fought me, I felt something real.
And I was starting to think real was more dangerous than anything else.
I stared at the city. The skyline, the world I had mastered.
But if I wasn't careful, Ava Monroe would be the one thing I couldn't control.
And I didn't know if I'd survive that.