By Tuesday morning, the whispers had turned into knives.
Ava could feel them the second she stepped into the office. Conversations stopped mid-sentence when she passed by. Laughter that had nothing to do with her somehow echoed at her back like cruel mockery. Emails she sent were ignored. Meetings that once welcomed her suddenly left her out.
She was being frozen out—and she knew exactly why.
At lunch, she sat alone at her desk, pretending to be too busy for the cafeteria. Her phone buzzed with a new message, and her stomach dropped when she saw it was a link.
Another article.
From Boardroom to Bedroom: Wolfe’s New Favorite Plaything.
A picture of her outside the building, shoulders hunched, face pale with stress.
Her hand trembled so hard she almost dropped the phone.
“Ava.”
The
