SPARKS AND SCARS II
1685 Words
Five years earlier...
The rain hadn’t stopped all night. Ava stood outside the apartment building, soaked to the bone, her fingers numb around the crumpled envelope in her coat pocket.
Inside was the evidence. Emails. Documents. The truth.
Julian had lied.
She didn’t want to believe it. But there it was—his name on a contract that had sunk her old client’s deal. The same deal her father's company fought to save. And when she confronted him, all he gave her was silence.
That silence had shattered everything.
Present Day:
Her phone buzzed.
A text. From an unknown number.
Unknown: You’re not safe with him. Watch your back.
Ava’s breath caught. She read it twice. Then a third time.
Heart racing, she glanced around her empty office.
Had someone followed her?
She deleted the message—but it was too late. The chill had already settled in her spine.
And deep down, Ava knew: this wasn’t just about old wounds or unresolved feelings. Something bigger was happening. Something dangerous. And she was right in the middle of it.
Ava stood by the window, watching the city flicker. Her assistant, Olivia, knocked and entered with a puzzled look.
“This came for you,” she said, handing Ava a sleek black envelope with no return address.
Inside was a photo.
Julian, five years ago, shaking hands with a man Ava hadn’t seen in years—Derek Vale. Her father’s former business partner. The same man who vanished after the Bridgewater scandal exploded.
Attached was a note, handwritten in tight, slanted ink:
“You were never the only one he lied to.”
Ava’s fingers curled around the paper, heart racing. This wasn’t just about a failed engagement. There were secrets—real ones. And someone wanted her to start digging.
Her phone buzzed again. Another text. This time, from an encrypted number.
Do you really think the scandal was a coincidence? Watch your back.
She looked out the window, trying to catch her breath.
Somewhere beneath the tension and old wounds, something bigger was unraveling. And Julian Cross was at the center of it. She had thought the danger was emotional. But it wasn’t just her heart on the line anymore. It was everything.
The newsroom’s headline exploded across every screen the next morning:
“CrossTech CEO Accused of Corporate Espionage – Whistleblower Hints at Deeper Corruption.”
Ava nearly dropped her coffee.
Julian’s face filled the screen—cool, unreadable, framed by words like fraud, breach, and classified tech leaks. The article was vague, just enough to cause panic but not enough to point fingers directly. But Ava knew better.
This wasn’t random.
And someone wanted Julian’s empire to burn.
Her phone rang before she could process it all. Martin Greaves, head of PR at CrossTech—and an old contact—sounded winded.
“Julian’s asking for you. Personally.”
She froze. “What?”
“He said, and I quote, ‘If there’s anyone I trust to spin a bullet wound into a bruise, it’s her.’”
Typical Julian. Backhanded and flattering in the same breath.
Ava stepped into Julian’s office. It was quieter than usual, the tension crawling along the glass walls. He stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, hands clasped behind his back.
“You’ve seen it,” he said without turning.
“Yes.”
He turned then, eyes sharp. “I need you.”
Ava narrowed her gaze. “That’s not how this works.”
“No,” he agreed. “But this isn’t about us.”
She almost laughed. “Isn’t it?”
A pause.
“Fine. Then consider this your second chance to bury me. Or save me.”
The weight of his words landed hard. He wasn’t just asking for PR cleanup. He was asking her to step into the fire with him.
And part of her wanted to.
---
Hours Later – War Room
Screens displayed social media trends, news clips, leaked emails. Ava worked fast, locking down narratives, drafting internal memos, staging a rapid-response interview with Julian.
But something was off.
One leaked email referenced a meeting Julian had never attended. Another included language Ava recognized—but not from him. From her.
She froze.
Someone was copying her phrasing, mimicking old strategy decks she’d written at a previous firm. The scandal wasn’t just targeting Julian. It was trying to frame them both.
“Julian,” she said carefully, pulling him aside. “There’s more going on here. These leaks—they’re fabricated, but the style? It’s mine. From years ago.”
Julian’s face hardened. “You think someone from inside your old firm is involved?”
“Or someone who had access to both of us.”
A silence stretched between them.
Then he said it: “Vale.”
The name made her flinch. Derek Vale, her father’s former partner. The man whose photo had arrived in the envelope. The man she believed had disappeared.
Julian ran a hand through his hair. “He was in talks with our competitors last year. I shut it down. Maybe I should’ve gone further.”
Ava’s mind raced. “He’s playing a long game.”
Julian met her eyes. “So we play back.”
---
That Night – Alone in the Office
Ava stayed late, combing through files. The rain tapped against the glass, a rhythm of unease. She clicked into a folder Julian had forwarded her hours earlier. Unmarked. No title.
Inside: surveillance stills. Her. Meeting with a client at a cafe. Entering her apartment. Standing at her father’s grave six months ago.
She stared, breath caught in her throat.
Julian had been watching her.
The door opened. He stepped in, silent.
“You said you hadn’t seen me in five years,” she said quietly.
His jaw tightened. “I lied.”
Ava stood slowly, fury rising. “Why?”
“Because I needed to know you were okay.”
She laughed once, bitter. “You needed to control the story. Just like always.”
“No,” he said, taking a step closer. “I needed to see if you’d gotten close to the truth.”
She went still. “What truth?”
Julian looked at her with something raw in his eyes.
“That night you left... it wasn’t just you who got played.”
Ava stood frozen, Julian’s words hanging in the charged silence of his office.
“It wasn’t just you who got played.”
She crossed her arms, defensive. “Then tell me. What really happened that night?”
Julian hesitated—and that hesitation was louder than anything he could’ve said.
“You don’t trust me,” she said.
“I don’t trust anyone right now,” he countered. “But I’m willing to make an exception.”
He pulled out a slim black folder and placed it on the desk. “This came in last week. No name, no return address.”
Inside were a series of printed documents, grainy surveillance photos, and a redacted report stamped with the initials DV. Ava’s throat tightened.
“Derek Vale,” she whispered. “He’s supposed to be dead.”
“He’s not,” Julian said. “And he’s not just watching. He’s moving pieces.”
Ava remembered the night everything fell apart—when whispers of betrayal, blackmail, and corruption surrounded her father. When she left Julian without a word because she thought he had betrayed her. Now it looked like they’d both been pawns in someone else’s endgame.
---
Flashback – Five Years Ago
They were in a rooftop garden lit with fairy lights and stolen promises.
Julian leaned in, brushing a kiss behind her ear. “Marry me,” he whispered.
She’d laughed, half-dizzy from champagne and love. “You already asked me.”
“I’m asking again. Because I’d do it every day if it meant keeping you.”
She never got to say yes.
The call came ten minutes later: her father’s company under investigation, Julian’s business linked to the same shell accounts, and a voicemail that would destroy everything.
A voice: “Come outside, you need to see something”-a note which gave her the greatest shock of her life and made her walk away.
It had sounded like Derek. It had sounded final.
---
Present Day – CrossTech Security Room
Julian led her into the secure server room—silent, cold, sterile. A monitor displayed encrypted files and metadata they’d been sorting all week.
Ava spotted a name buried in the code: Project Hades.
She frowned. “That was my father’s encryption tag. I haven’t seen it since—”
“Since the indictment,” Julian finished. “And now it’s resurfaced. Embedded in our systems. Hidden in our R&D files. Someone is framing us with your father’s work.”
“Someone who has access to it all,” Ava said. “Someone who wants us to think this is about revenge or greed—when it’s something bigger.”
Julian turned to her. “What if Vale never wanted your father to take the fall? What if your father found out too much?”
Ava’s heart raced. “You think he was murdered.”
“I think it wasn’t just a corporate takedown,” Julian said. “It was a cleanup.”
And now the cleanup was coming for them.
---
Later That Night – Ava’s Apartment
The hallway lights flickered as she unlocked her door. The city below buzzed, but her apartment was dark and still.
Too still.
She stepped inside, closed the door—and froze.
A single envelope lay on her kitchen counter.
Inside: an old photo.
Her father. Julian. Vale.
And her—barely out of college, in the background, laughing.
Written on the back in red ink:
“History repeats itself. Don’t let love blind you twice.”
She backed away, chest tight. Julian’s warning rang in her ears: “He’s moving pieces.”
Ava wasn’t sure what scared her more—that Vale was alive, or that he still knew exactly where exactly it hit.
- Writer
