Chapter three
763 Words
The following day, Ava sat at her kitchen table, looking at her phone and drinking cold coffee. Reed texted her to make sure she had arrived home safely. He was a good guy, and she felt she could try digging deeper with him.
But all she could think about was Jaxon’s voice, low and guarded, saying, “He’s not for you.”
She shook the thought away and opened her laptop. Work. That was the priority. She’d been assigned to lead the next Blackstone brand rollout, and though it meant more interaction with Jaxon, she’d handled worse. She was strong. She’d moved on.
Almost.
At Blackstone headquarters, Jaxon stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his corner office, jaw tight as he watched the skyline blur into rain.
His mind drifted back to the night of the gala and Ava.
She looked different.
Not just her dress. Not just her date.
Something had shifted in her eyes. That sharp confidence he’d once admired was now wrapped in ice. It stung more than he expected.
He thought about that night three years ago, the night that took away something precious from him.
He was beginning to get lost in his thoughts when his office door burst open behind him.
“Staring at your empire again?” came a lilting voice.
He didn’t turn. “What do you want, Sienna?”
Sienna Black—his adopted sister—stepped in, dressed in cream cashmere and smug satisfaction.
“I heard you and Ava Hart had an... awkward moment last night,” she said, perching herself on the arm of his leather chair.
Jaxon turned slowly, arching a brow. “You are spying on me, Sienna?”
“I prefer monitoring. Someone needs to make sure you don’t make reckless decisions over another woman who isn’t in your league. After what happened with Daniella, I can’t trust you to make decisions on your own
Jaxon’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t start.”
She continued, checking her phone as a message entered, “I’m just saying. “You have a company to protect. She’s... baggage. Pretty baggage, but baggage all the same.”
He didn’t respond, but the silence was thick.
Sienna stood and walked to the door. “Just remember who’s been here from the start, Jax. Not everyone wants you for you.”
The door clicked shut.
Meanwhile, Ava was too busy to notice that someone had been watching her from across the street.
It began innocently—a guy in a gray hoodie lingering outside her favorite coffeehouse where she’d first run into Reed. He didn’t order anything, only sat, his gaze hidden behind dark glasses.
The second time, she caught a shadow just outside her apartment building. When she turned, it was gone.
Coincidence, she told herself.
Until she received the flowers.
No name. Just a single word on the card: Mine.
She stood in her kitchen, her hands trembling as she read the note.
Reed hadn’t sent them—she knew that instinctively.
She thought about telling Cassie. About calling the police.
But what would she say? That someone might be watching her?
That she felt paranoid and couldn’t prove why?
So instead, she threw the flowers in the trash and locked all her windows.
Later that week, Ava found herself at a marketing panel where Blackstone had invited her to speak. Jaxon was also on the panel—naturally—and though they exchanged only a stiff nod backstage, their chemistry was like static in the air.
Afterward, as she packed her bag, Reed surprised her with a coffee.
“You killed it,” he said, grinning.
Ava smiled. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure I would.”
“You are not just smart, Ava,” he added softly, “you are also brave.”
She didn’t know how to respond. So she smiled and sipped her coffee instead.
From across the room, Jaxon watched.
And beside him, Sienna stood perfectly poised.
“She’s clinging to someone new already,” she whispered in his ear. “You think she was ever really yours?”
Jaxon didn’t answer.
But something dark flickered in his eyes.
That night, Ava opened her apartment door and froze.
The envelope was on her floor.
No stamp. No name.
Inside was a photo of her, taken from behind, while she’d been speaking at the panel.
On the back, in scrawled handwriting: I’m always watching.
She shut the door and slid to the floor, heart racing.
This wasn’t just in her head anymore.
Someone was watching.
And they weren’t playing games.
- Writer
