CHAPTER 9:TWISTED THREAD
732 Words
AVA POV
The alarm buzzed insistently the next morning, dragging me from another night of restless dreams tangled between gray eyes and dark ones. I sat up in bed, the silk sheets pooling around my waist. The line was blurring faster than I could control. I dressed in a soft gray blouse and black trousers that skimmed my curves, adding heels for that extra edge of confidence.
In the mirror, I reminded myself: “It’s just work. Get closer, get the evidence.”
But Ethan’s texts were becoming the highlight of my mornings, pulling me in despite Damien’s warnings.
Traffic was light, and I arrived at Rush Dynamics with time to spare.
Ethan was already in his office, looking unfairly handsome in a charcoal shirt, sleeves rolled up.
He glanced up as I entered, that predatory-yet-warm smile spreading across his face.
“Right on time”
Our routine started professionally enough, scheduling, emails, a quick briefing on an upcoming merger.
By midday, the professional facade had cracks.
He pulled me into his office for “ notes,” but we spent half the time talking. His hand brushed mine more than once as we reviewed documents, lingering.
The air felt intimate.
A call ran longer than usual, stifled a yawn, he noticed immediately
“You’ve been killing it this week, Ava,” he said after hanging up, leaning back in his chair.
His dark eyes softened.
“Take the afternoon. Head out early, after 2 p.m.
Treat yourself. You deserve it. We can pick you up tomorrow.”
I blinked, surprised.
“Are you sure? There’s still the vendor reports”
“Handled.”
He waved it off, standing to walk me to the door.
His fingers grazed my lower back lightly.
“Personal time matters. Text me later if you want company for dinner again.”
The offer hung between us, personal now, not just boss-assistant.
I nodded, warmth spreading despite myself.
“Thank you, Ethan. I appreciate it.”
As I gathered my things and left the towering glass building, my heart raced.
This was progress for the mission.
But it felt real.
Too real.
I drove the sleek sedan through the city, but not toward my apartment.
Instead, I headed to Damien’s mansion on the outskirts, using the back roads he had instructed for discretion.
The burner phone had pinged earlier:
“Report in person today. 3 p.m. Side entrance.”
The mansion loomed as imposing as ever,it was toogrand, shadowed by tall trees.
I parked discreetly and slipped in through the side door, my pulse quickening.
Damien was waiting in the same grand living room where I’d signed the contract, dressed in a black button-down that accentuated his broad chest.
Those piercing gray eyes locked on me immediately, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
“Ava,” he drawled, stepping closer.
“Right on time. I’ve been thinking about you.”
His voice was smooth, laced with that arrogance that grated and intrigued in equal measure.
He gestured to the leather couch, but instead of sitting across, he chose the spot beside me, close enough that his knee brushed mine.
“Tell me everything. How’s our charming target?”
I reported the e orphanage warmth, the office proximity, the offshore email glimpses, the early leave today.
Damien listened, nodding, but his gaze lingered on my lips, my neck.
“You’re playing the part well,” he murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray hair behind my ear.
His fingers lingered, tracing lightly down my jaw.
“Almost too well. That dress at the charity event must have driven him wild. Keep it up, but remember who you belong to in this game.”
The flirtation was subtle, teasing, but it sent a shiver through me.
His intensity was magnetic, dangerous.
Before I could respond, my main phone vibrated in my bag.
I pulled it out instinctively. Another text from Ethan:
“Enjoying your early afternoon?”
I caught myself smiling, soft and unbidden, my thumb hovering over the reply button.
The genuine pull of his charm hit me again, mixing with the memory of his laugh at the orphanage.
Damien’s eyes narrowed, catching the shift. He leaned in closer, voice dropping.
“What’s that smile for, Ava? Something amusing in your reports?”
“Nothing just a text from Ethan”
Low-key I knew he wasn't having it.
- Writer
