Between Lines and Lanes

2. PART XX : LEO VARGAS-CLAIRMONT

Ethan's POV

Ethan stepped into Ava's office for the first time. It was cozy and neat, the kind of space that felt lived in, with a large table in the center and a pin board filled with design sketches, swatches, and scribbled notes.

"You've been hiding this place from me," he said, glancing around.

"I'm pretty sure I've invited you before," Ava replied, kicking off her heels. "You were just too busy being the big CEO."

He smirked, setting his briefcase down as she switched on the lights and set water to boil for drinks.

Ethan pulled out his laptop and began checking emails. Ava peeked over his shoulder, balancing two glasses—hot tea in her right hand, hot chocolate in her left.

"Which one do you want?" she asked.

Ethan eyed the drinks, then reached for the tea. "I would've preferred coffee, but I'll take tea. I'm allergic to chocolate."

Ava's eyes widened. "You're kidding. You're allergic to chocolate?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Nothing," she said, grinning faintly. "It just means you're missing the taste of a warm hug and also more for me."

For the next hour, they worked in an easy silence, the only sound being the soft hum of a playlist they'd argued over for five minutes before settling on something in the middle.

A knock on the door eventually broke the quiet. The delivery guy had arrived—Ava's order was Chinese takeout, Ethan's was a burger and fries.

They sat side by side, eating and trading small jokes. Ethan stole one of her dumplings; she stole half his fries without asking.

At one point, she set her chopsticks down. "Thank you, Ethan... for understanding. I'm really glad we can still be friends even after..."

She trailed off, staring at her food.

"Even after you rejected me for Leo?" Ethan finished for her with a dry chuckle.

Ava winced. "You make it sound so cruel."

"It's fine," he said lightly, though there was a flicker in his eyes that said it wasn't entirely fine. "Yeah, it hurts. But honestly, I'm just glad we can still be friends. I've never really had someone I could talk to like this."

He paused, then added with a smirk, "Don't count Luca. He's paid to put up with my bullshit."

Ava laughed—loud, genuine, the kind that pulled her shoulders back from the slump they'd been in all night.

"See?" Ethan said, grinning. "Still got it."

She shook her head, smiling. And for the first time that night, she felt like maybe, just maybe, she hadn't been completely abandoned.

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Leo's POV - Maranello

Leo left the Ferrari meeting walking on air. The crew had treated him like he was already part of the family—engineers swapping ideas with him like old colleagues, strategists scribbling plans for the Montreal circuit on whiteboards, even the pit crew cracking jokes about how they'd shave milliseconds off his stops.

For hours, he'd been in his element—talking tire compounds, fuel strategies, aerodynamics. It felt less like work and more like destiny.

When Rafael Timur finally glanced at the clock, his brow lifted. "Vargas-Clairmont, do you know it's nearly eight?"

Leo blinked, then swore under his breath. "s**t—Ava."

He was supposed to have been in Milan hours ago. Dinner at seven. Their first proper date in weeks. And James had promised to let her know he'd be late.

"Relax," Rafael said with a smile. "Take the team jet to Monaco? Milan?. You'll be there in no time."

Leo's relief lasted all of two minutes—until a thought hit him like a loose gearbox at 200 kph. James. The man was a genius when it came to racing... but in every other department? A walking hazard. He could misplace a message between one sentence and the next. The last time Leo trusted him to pass on a note, it ended up under a stack of old racing magazines for three months.

And now Leo was relying on him to tell Ava—someone who didn't forgive easily—that he wouldn't make it on time?

By the time the jet touched down in Monaco, Leo was practically vibrating with nerves. He bolted into his penthouse, grabbed his phone—no texts from Ava.

None.

He called. Straight to voicemail.

Again. Same thing.

His gut sank. Either her phone was off... or James hadn't told her a damn thing.

"Unbelievable," Leo muttered.

It wasn't enough to just show up late with an apology. This was Ava. She deserved a gesture—a big one. Something that said I didn't forget you. I just got a deal with Ferrari.

So he stopped at the only florist still open, buying the most dramatic bouquet in sight—blood-red roses, baby's breath, wrapped in satin. Then he told his pilots they were flying to Milan. Tonight.

They exchanged looks like he is serious? but one quiet "Yes." from Leo settled it.

When they landed, it was just past ten. He headed straight to her apartment, bouquet in hand, heart pounding in his throat. Lights off. Curtains drawn.

He called again. Voicemail.

He refused to give up. Pulling up her office address on his phone—still saved from that time he requested someone deliver her flower for the first time—he sped across the city.

The street was quiet, her office lit with warm yellow light spilling through the big front windows. Leo parked, bouquet resting on the passenger seat, and rehearsed in his head: 'No excuses, just honesty. Maybe a joke about Ferrari kidnapping me. She'll roll her eyes, I'll apologize, and we'll fix this.'

Then he saw her.

Through Ava's office..

Leaning over a wide table covered in blueprints, Ava's head tilted toward a tall, broad-shouldered man. Their faces were close—too close. She was laughing. The kind of laugh he hadn't heard ever yet.

Leo's chest tightened. 'She didn't wait for him.'

The man shifted slightly, pointing at something on the paper. Ava leaned in again, her hand brushing his arm casually, naturally—like it wasn't the first time. 'They're definitely close.'

The stems in Leo's hand bent under his grip.

Every part of him wanted to storm in, demanding who the hell this guy was, why she was smiling at him like that. But he didn't. He just stood there, the warmth of his earlier excitement draining into something cold.

He had come here to apologize. To explain. To make things right. But now?

All he could see was Ava laughing with another man while he had been killing himself to get here.

Without another word, he walked back to the car. Tossed the bouquet into the nearest trash bin without looking. Drove to the airport in silence.

By the time his jet lifted off, the Milan skyline shrinking into the dark, Leo was staring out the window, jaw tight.

How could she do this to me?