The Ghost In The File
1368 Words
Ava’s POV
Some people steal money. I steal secrets.
And today, I was about to steal the biggest one of all.
It was midnight at Voss Empire, and the office looked different under the city lights — quieter, more dangerous, like the walls themselves were whispering lies.
I should’ve been scared of getting caught.
Instead, I was thinking about Ethan.
Which was ridiculous, because I was also currently breaking into his private archive.
I’d waited until the staff left, until the hum of the elevators faded. Then I slipped into his office, swiping my new keycard — my reward for being the world’s most charming fake assistant.
“Thank you, Ethan,” I whispered to the card reader. “Your trust means a lot… to my plan.”
The door clicked open with a satisfying beep. Inside, rows of sleek cabinets gleamed under soft blue light. Each one was labeled with precision: Mergers, Legal, Confidential, Private: F. Voss.
Bingo.
I opened the last drawer — and froze.
Inside were old photo files, letters, and one thick envelope marked Project H.
The handwriting was familiar. My mother’s.
My chest tightened. Mom?
I hadn’t seen her handwriting since she disappeared when I was sixteen. She’d worked for the Voss family. Everyone said she ran away with company secrets.
But I never believed that.
I picked up the file, flipping through the pages — company financials, offshore accounts, and a contract signed by Frederick Voss. At the bottom of one page, written in pen, was a single line in my mother’s handwriting:
He’s hiding more than money. Keep this from Ethan.
The air left my lungs.
What could she possibly have wanted to protect him from?
I didn’t have time to think — footsteps echoed outside.
Panic shot through me. I shoved the papers into my bag, dropped the drawer shut, and ducked behind the desk.
The door opened.
And of course, it was him.
“Miss Lawson,” Ethan’s voice drawled in the darkness, “either you’re working late, or you’ve decided to rob me.”
“Both,” I muttered under my breath.
“What was that?”
I stood up, pretending calm. “You scared me.”
He flicked on the light. “Good. Maybe it’ll make you stop sneaking around my building like a cat burglar.”
“Cats are graceful,” I said. “I’m more of a raccoon. We improvise.”
He sighed, stepping closer. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up — the picture of casual danger. “You don’t make this easy, do you?”
“Why start now?”
His gaze dropped to my bag — the one currently holding classified documents.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, too casually.
“Nope.”
He smirked. “Then why is your purse bulging like it’s hiding state secrets?”
I swallowed. “Snacks?”
“Ava.”
I gave him my most innocent smile. “Chocolate’s very emotional for me.”
He walked around the desk, stopping inches from me. I could feel the heat of him — his scent, his calm danger. “Let me see what you took.”
I stepped back. “Trust issues much?”
“Always,” he said softly. “Especially with you.”
He reached for the bag, and instinct made me clutch it tighter — which only made him grin.
“What are you hiding?” he asked.
“None of your business.”
“Everything in this office is my business.”
“Well, so am I,” I shot back. “And I’m complicated.”
For a heartbeat, we just stared at each other — eyes locked, breath uneven. The air between us felt charged, like a storm waiting to hit.
“Give me the bag, Ava,” he murmured, stepping closer.
“No.”
He leaned in, voice low enough to make my skin shiver. “You forget who you’re talking to.”
“Oh, I remember,” I whispered. “You’re the man who taught me how to lie beautifully.”
He froze — not expecting that one. Then, slowly, his expression softened into something dangerous. “And you’re still the only woman who makes me wish I could forget.”
The tension was unbearable — heavy with things unsaid. I could feel every heartbeat, every inch of space between us that was too small.
Then the overhead lights flickered off.
Silence. Total darkness.
A voice over the intercom announced, “Security lockdown in progress. All exits sealed.”
“Great,” I muttered. “Now I’m trapped in a skyscraper with my ex.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ethan said dryly. “I have worse nightmares.”
“Sure,” I said. “But your nightmares don’t wear heels.”
I heard him exhale through a laugh — low, reluctant.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I try.”
He found the emergency light switch, and dim red light washed over the room, making everything look cinematic — shadows and tension painted in crimson. He looked at me then, really looked — the kind of gaze that made time slow.
“Why are you really here, Ava?” he asked.
I hesitated. “Would you believe me if I said justice?”
“Maybe,” he said. “But I’d believe you more if you said revenge.”
He was too close, too perceptive. So I deflected the only way I knew how — with humor.
“Fine. Revenge and free office snacks.”
That earned me an actual smile — rare, dangerous, and heartbreakingly human.
The elevator system rebooted then, breaking the moment. Ethan walked to his desk and leaned on it, crossing his arms. “If I find out you’re playing games—”
“Oh, Ethan,” I said sweetly, slinging my bag over my shoulder, “we’re both playing. I’m just better at it.”
And with that, I walked out before he could stop me.
⸻
Ethan’s POV
I should’ve had her followed. I should’ve had her arrested.
Instead, I was smiling.
Damn her.
Ava Lawson was a hurricane wrapped in perfume and chaos. She infuriated me, distracted me, and still somehow made my world feel alive.
But when I opened the drawer she’d been snooping in, the smile vanished.
The file marked Project H was missing.
And only one person besides me had ever known about it — my father.
My hand tightened around the edge of the desk.
She’s getting too close.
I called my head of security. “Find out what Ava Lawson took. And where she got her clearance.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And keep it quiet,” I added. “If anyone finds out what she’s digging into, it won’t just ruin me — it’ll expose the entire family.”
When I hung up, I stared at the city outside — the lights glittering like deceit.
If Ava found out the truth behind Project H, she wouldn’t just come for revenge.
She’d come for blood.
And I wasn’t sure whether I’d stop her… or help her burn it all down.
⸻
Ava’s POV
Later that night, I sat at my apartment desk, the stolen documents spread out before me.
The city hummed outside, endless and alive, but all I could see were my mother’s words.
Keep this from Ethan.
But why?
There was one more page in the file I hadn’t noticed before — half-burnt, with a date and a name scrawled across it:
“Project Heir — Authorized by F. Voss.”
I frowned.
Project… Heir?
My phone buzzed again.
Jenna.
Jenna: So, how’s the billionaire chaos going?
Me: Complicated. Might’ve broken into his office.
Jenna: Of course you did.
Me: Found something. My mom’s handwriting.
Jenna: Holy crap.
Me: Yeah. I think Ethan’s father… was experimenting with inheritance fraud. Or something worse.
Jenna sent ten shocked emojis, then:
Jenna: Girl, you need a therapist. Or a lawyer. Or both.
I laughed softly, even as fear twisted in my stomach.
Because for the first time, I realized something terrifying — the truth I was chasing might destroy more than the Voss family.
It might destroy me.
- Writer
