Beneath the surface

Chapter three

Ava stood frozen in Ethan's study, the tension between them palpable after their return from the launch meeting. "You'where late," Ethan growled, his voice low and menacing.

Ava's instincts screamed at her to stand her ground, but she knew better. She bit back her retort, her jaw clenched in frustration. "Yes, sir," she said curtly, her voice firm but controlled.

Ethan's face twisted in a snarl. "I don't pay you to indulge in frivolous activities, do I?" His eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing. "If you're late again, you're fired. Am I clear?"

Ava nodded hastily, her heart racing. "Yes, sir."

"Get out," he barked, his voice echoing through the study.

As Ava spun around, she caught Ethan's gaze, her eyes flashing with defiance. She muttered under her breath, "You're unbelievable," and quickly covered her mouth, feigning innocence when Ethan's head snapped up.

"What was that?" he asked, his voice dripping with warning.

Ava's face went blank, her voice sweet as honey. "Nothing, sir."

She turned to leave, but not before she caught Ethan's gaze, a spark of hatred flying between them. As soon as she was out of the study, she let her mask slip, her anger and frustration boiling over.

"You're going down, Ethan Ryder ," she vowed to herself, her footsteps light as she made her way to her room. The game was on, and she was ready to play.

Ava tossed and turned in her bed, the darkness seeming to amplify her restlessness. She finally gave up on sleep, the clock striking 12 a.m. like a beacon calling her to action. She crept to the kitchen, the only sound the soft creaking of the floorboards beneath her feet. Her midnight snack of choice was waiting – a bag of chocolate balls, her weakness.

As she turned to head back to her room, a sly grin spread across her face. This was the perfect opportunity to snoop around and gather evidence to bring her arrogant boss down. The thought sent a thrill through her veins.

Her first stop was the home office on the 3rd floor, a place she knew Ethan frequented. But as she made her way there, she heard a sound that made her blood run cold – a cry, followed by a plea: "Perdono non è nel mio dizionario" ("Forgiveness is not in my dictionary"). The voice was one she knew all too well, and it sent a chill down her spine.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out, shattering the silence. Ava's heart skipped a beat as she gasped, her instincts kicking in. She didn't hesitate, turning on her heel and fleeing the scene, her mind racing with questions. What had she just stumbled upon? And what would be the cost of her discovery?