Price of loving you

The dressing room at Bergdorf’s smelled faintly of expensive vanilla and fresh carpeting. Ava pulled at the hem of a beige linen button-down that looked entirely sensible until you noticed the mother-of-pearl buttons. "It’s too long," Chloe said from the velvet sofa, not looking up from her phone. "You look like a Victorian orphan who stumbled into a hedge fund." "It’s an intern shirt, Chloe," Ava said, turning in front of the three-way mirror. She tucked it into a pair of dark trousers that had required three different tailors to look that effortlessly casual. "I’m supposed to look unremarkable. The HR manual specifically said 'business casual.' No silk, no loud prints." Mia, who was currently draped across the opposite end of the sofa surrounded by three shopping bags from Chanel, snorted. "Ava, sweetie, your 'unremarkable' shoes cost more than the rent for the entire accounting department's apartment pool. If you want to blend in, you need to buy clothes from a mall. Like, an actual mall with a food court." "Dad promised he wouldn't tell anyone," Ava murmured, smoothing the fabric over her hips. "He gave his word to the board. I’m just Ava Williams, temporary data entry assistant in logistics. No one knows." "Your father’s assistant practically had to sign a blood oath not to order you custom salads for lunch," Chloe said, finally dropping her phone onto her lap. Her eyes searched Ava’s face, softening just a fraction. "I still don’t get why you’re doing this. You have a degree. You could have taken a seat on the foundation board. Why spend your summer filing transit receipts in a basement?" "Because I want to know I can," Ava said honestly. She turned away from the mirror, her expression serious. "Everything Dad has built... I want to understand it from the ground up. Not just from the view from the penthouse. And besides..." She smiled, a small, bright thing that made her look younger than twenty-three. "If I’m always up there, how am I ever going to meet someone real? Someone who doesn't look at my last name first?" Mia sighed, throwing her head back. "Here we go. The prophecy." "It’s not a prophecy," Ava laughed, though a slight flush crept up her neck. "I just believe in it. When it happens, it should be simple. No contracts, no family alliances. Just... two people finding each other in the middle of a normal day. And when I find that, I’m never letting it go." Chloe exchanged a look with Mia—the kind of look two people give each other when they love someone too much to break their favorite toy. "Just watch your back," Chloe said softly. "The real world isn't a library book, Ava. People have teeth." "I don't think so"Ava scoff ***** The driver, a quiet man named Thomas who had worked for her father since Ava was five, took her shopping bags at the curb. The drive back to the estate in Greenwich was quiet, the city noise fading into the lush, gated privacy of the suburbs. The Williams estate wasn't just a house; it was a fortress of comfort. Ava’s bedroom sat on the second floor, a massive expanse of soft creams, blush pinks, and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens. It was a room designed for a girl who had never known a harsh winter or a unpaid bill. Ava changed into a soft cashmere sweater and went downstairs, following the scent of roasted garlic and rosemary to the dining room. Arthur Williams was already seated at the head of the mahogany table, looking over a tablet. The moment the door clicked, he dropped the tablet onto the linen tablecloth, his face lighting up with a warmth he never showed in the boardroom. "There’s my girl," Arthur said, standing up to kiss her cheek. "How was the hunting-and-gathering with Chloe and Mia? Did you find anything that doesn't look like it belongs to a billionaire’s daughter?" "I found a very sensible linen shirt, Dad," Ava said, smiling as she took her seat. The maid set down a plate of grilled salmon and asparagus in front of her. "And a pair of trousers that don't have a single logo on them. I look completely ordinary." Arthur sighed, a mix of pride and anxiety in his eyes. "Ava, you know you don't have to do this. The board knows who you are. If you want to learn the business, you can sit next to me in the executive suite. You don't need to be sorting invoices in the basement." "We agreed, Dad," Ava said gently, reaching across the table to touch his hand. "If I sit next to you, everyone will just smile and agree with me. I want to know I can survive a normal job on my own merit. No favoritism. Promise me." Arthur looked at his daughter—the spitting image of his late wife, with the same innocent, trusting eyes—and felt a familiar tightening in his chest. "I promise. But the moment anyone makes you uncomfortable, or the work is too much, you tell me." "I'll be fine," Ava laughed, her heart full. "It’s just an internship." That night, Ava lay in her canopy bed, staring at the ceiling. She thought about what she’d told her friends at the mall. Two people finding each other in the middle of a normal day. Tomorrow was the start of that normal day. The Monday Rush The lobby of Williams Global Logistics was a chaotic sea of glass, marble, and moving bodies at 8:45 AM. Ava, clutching a cardboard cup of coffee she had nervously bought down the street, checked her watch. She was late. The HR orientation started in fifteen minutes on the fourth floor. She rushed toward the bank of elevators, her eyes glued to the digital floor indicator above the doors. Ding. An elevator opened, a crowd of people pouring out. Ava stepped forward quickly, entirely focused on getting inside before the doors closed. Oof! She collided hard with a solid wall of a chest. Her coffee cup slipped from her hand, the plastic lid popping off as it hit the marble floor, splashing dark liquid across a pair of polished, slightly worn leather shoes. "Oh my gosh! I am so, so sorry," Ava gasped, instantly dropping to her knees to grab the rolling cup. "It's fine, it's just caffeine," a deep, calm voice said above her. Ava looked up from the floor. The man she had hit was already kneeling down, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at his soaked shoes. He was young, maybe a year or two older than her, with sharp jawline and striking, cool grey eyes. He wore a grey suit that looked neat but inexpensive. "I was rushing, I didn't see you," Ava stammered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. The man stopped cleaning his shoes and looked at her. A slow, polite smile touched his lips, though his eyes remained entirely unreadable. "Don't worry about it. I was rushing too. First day jitters?" "How did you know?" He pointed to the plastic visitor’s badge clipped to her blouse, which had flipped over to show the word INTERN. He pulled his own badge out from under his lapel. It was identical. "Ethan," he said, holding out a hand. "Looks like we’re starting in the trenches together." Ava took his hand, her small, soft fingers swallowed by his larger, slightly rougher ones. "Ava. And I really am sorry about your shoes, Ethan." "Consider it a memorable introduction," Ethan said, standing up and offering her a hand to help her up. "Come on, if we don't catch this elevator, HR is going to execute us before we even get our laptops." The Logistics Floor Ten minutes later, Ava and Ethan were led into the sprawling, noisy bullpen of the Logistics and Supply Chain department. The room was a maze of cubicles, ringing phones, and stressed-out employees shouting across desks. A sharp, middle-aged woman named Mrs. Gable clapped her hands to get the room's attention. "Listen up, everyone," Mrs. Gable announced, her voice cutting through the noise. "These are our two summer interns for the logistics division. This is Ethan Blackwood, and this is Ava... Williams." Mrs. Gable paused slightly on Ava’s last name, giving her a brief, calculating look before moving on. "They will be handling data entry and filing for the next three months. Treat them well, but don't coddle them." As the staff turned back to their computers, a young woman with curly hair and a colorful cardigan slid out of her cubicle and approached them with a warm smile. "Hi! I’m Maya," she said, shaking Ava’s hand and then Ethan's. "I’m a junior analyst here. If you need to know where the good coffee machine is—or which printer actually works—come find me. Don't let this place scare you, it looks worse than it is." "Thanks, Maya," Ava said, feeling a wave of relief. "I might take you up on that." "Don't get too comfortable, Maya," a sharp, condescending voice interrupted. A tall man in a tailored navy suit stepped out of a private glass office. He had slicked-back hair and a smirk that made Ava’s stomach instantly drop. His name tag read Vance – Senior Logistics Manager. Vance walked over, ignoring Ethan entirely, his eyes locking onto Ava. He looked her up and down, noting the expensive fabric of her "ordinary" trousers and the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist. "So, you’re the new blood," Vance said, leaning against a cubicle wall with his arms crossed. "Williams, huh? Funny name to have in this building. I hope you’re here to actually work, Ava, because I don't tolerate dead weight on my floor. I don't care who your daddy knows or what kind of resume you fabricated to get in here. Around here, you earn your keep." Ava felt the blood drain from her face. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Before Vance could double down, Ethan stepped slightly forward, his shoulder subtly blocking Ava from Vance’s direct line of sight. "We’re both ready to work, Mr. Vance," Ethan said, his voice perfectly smooth, respectful, and entirely devoid of fear. "Just tell us where the data logs are, and we’ll have them processed by lunch." Vance narrowed his eyes at Ethan, annoyed by the interruption, but eventually scoffed. "Fine. Desk twelve and thirteen. Get to it." As Vance walked away, Maya whispered, "He’s a nightmare. Watch your step around him." Ava turned to Ethan, her chest still tight from the confrontation. "Thank you," she whispered. "He was... intense." "He's just trying to see if he can break you," Ethan said, his voice low and comforting as he looked down at her. He gave her that same easy, reassuring smile. "Don't let him. We'll handle him together." Ava smiled back, a genuine feeling of gratitude washing over her. She felt so incredibly lucky to have met someone like Ethan on her very first day. Behind his polite smile, Ethan’s mind was moving with cold, calculated precision. Vance was a bully, which made him the perfect tool.