CHAPTER 10
1352 Words
Chapter 10: “Threads of Deception”
The next morning dawned pale and cold, the skyline wrapped in a mist that blurred the sharp edges of the city.
Ava arrived at Blackwell Tower earlier than usual, her nerves strung tight. She barely had time to drop her sketchbook on her desk when an internal email arrived in her inbox — a summons to the executive conference room at 8:00 a.m. sharp.
When she entered, Liam was already there, standing at the head of the long table, sleeves rolled to the elbows as if ready for battle. Beside him stood Samantha from PR and two members of the internal security team. The sight alone told Ava the situation was worse than she’d imagined.
“Good, you’re on time,” Liam said. His tone was clipped but not unkind.
“Please sit.”
The room smelled faintly of coffee and the ozone tang of the digital projectors humming to life. As soon as the door closed, Liam began without preamble.
“We’ve launched an internal investigation into the leak of the Starfire gown. The image that went public wasn’t from an external drone or paparazzi — it came from someone inside this building.”
A murmur of unease rippled among the staff seated along the table.
Liam tapped the control tablet and an image appeared on the wall screen: a grainy still of the leaked photo’s metadata. “The timestamp tells us it was taken two nights ago, after hours. Access logs show four people in the studio at that time: Cruz, Liza, a janitorial contractor, and one of the freelance pattern technicians. The security cameras on that floor were offline for maintenance during that hour.”
Ava stiffened. “You think it was one of us?”
“I think someone exploited a gap,” Liam replied. His gaze swept the room, sharp and steady. “Until we know who, security around the prototypes is now restricted. Only three people will have clearance: myself, Cruz, and Samantha.”
Samantha shifted in her seat but said nothing. Ava felt the sudden weight of being named — the responsibility and the scrutiny that came with it.
Liam continued, “Effective immediately, the prototype will be stored in the biometric vault. Every fitting session will be logged and observed by security.”
One of the junior designers raised a tentative hand. “Sir, won’t that slow down production?”
“It will,” Liam said bluntly. “But it’s better than another leak. Any questions?”
The room fell silent. After dismissing most of the staff, Liam gestured for Ava to remain.
When the door closed behind the others, his posture softened just slightly.
“You’ve been in the spotlight enough these last few days,” he said quietly. “This investigation isn’t aimed at you. But I need you to be prepared — things might get tense.”
Ava crossed her arms loosely, her voice low but steady. “I can handle questions, but I won’t let anyone imply I had something to do with the leak.”
“I know you didn’t,” he replied, a flicker of warmth crossing his otherwise guarded expression. “Which is why I’m trusting you with access.”
The unspoken weight of that trust settled between them. For a moment it felt less like an order and more like an understanding.
---
Later that afternoon, Ava buried herself in her work at the design studio. She traced every seam on the Starfire gown, checking for flaws that might give the press ammunition. Her fingers lingered on the embedded threads as if reassuring herself the piece was still hers, still whole.
Liza entered quietly with two cups of coffee. “Here. Figured you could use this,” she said, sliding a cup toward Ava.
“Thanks,” Ava murmured, grateful for the small gesture.
Liza hesitated before speaking again. “People are talking, you know… saying maybe Ward Tech leaked the picture to stir hype.”
Ava shook her head. “Ethan wouldn’t sabotage the project like that. He wants the gown to succeed.”
Liza raised an eyebrow. “You trust him a lot for someone you’ve known a few weeks.”
Ava gave a faint, tired smile. “I just know what it feels like to have your work misunderstood. I don’t think he’d do that to me.”
Still, the words lingered in her mind long after Liza left. Trust was fragile currency here, and she was learning how quickly it could be spent.
---
That evening, as the last rays of sunlight stretched across the skyline, Liam walked into the studio. He moved with his usual quiet authority, the faint scent of cedar and clean linen trailing him.
“Still here,” he remarked, noting the glow of Ava’s desk lamp.
“Still calibrating,” she replied, not looking up from her stitching. “The sensors in the bodice were off by a fraction.”
He came to stand beside her, watching her hands work. “You don’t have to fix everything alone.”
She gave a short laugh. “Feels like I do.”
For a moment they stood in companionable silence, the city lights blooming beyond the tall windows. Liam leaned a little closer, his voice softer now. “Whoever leaked that photo underestimated you. They thought they could shake your focus.”
Ava finally glanced up at him. “They almost did.”
His eyes met hers, steady and unflinching. “Don’t let them. This design is more than fabric and tech. It’s proof of what you can do under fire.”
Something in his tone — quiet but resolute — wrapped around her like an unseen shield. She felt the pulse of his words settle somewhere deep, both comforting and unsettling.
Before she could respond, Liam straightened and stepped back, his businesslike mask slipping into place again. “We’ll start full security protocols tomorrow. Get some rest tonight.”
---
Meanwhile, across the city at Ward Tech’s headquarters, Ethan Ward sat in his glass-walled office, scrolling through a string of online comments under the leaked photo. Many praised the design, but some accused Ward Tech of deliberately orchestrating the leak to steal attention. His jaw tightened as he set the tablet aside.
He picked up his phone, hesitating before dialing Ava’s number. He stopped himself, lowering the phone again. Calling her now would only add to the firestorm of speculation. Still, the frustration burned in his chest.
Whoever did this isn’t just trying to pit the companies against each other, he thought grimly. They’re trying to corner her.
---
The following morning brought new tension: Samantha announced that a tabloid planned to run a piece titled “Blackwell’s Ice-Cold Genius and Ward Tech’s Muse: The Star-Crossed Rivalry.” The headline alone threatened to shift the spotlight away from the gown and onto the personal drama between the two billionaires — with Ava unwillingly at its center.
Ava groaned softly when she heard. “I’m a designer, not a headline.”
Liam’s expression hardened. “Then we make sure the story stays about the work. I’ll handle the press. You focus on finishing the gown.”
For the first time, Ava saw a glimpse of steel behind his calm — not just the calculated control of a CEO but the quiet promise of someone unwilling to let her be swallowed by the industry’s games.
---
That night, the city’s skyline glowed beneath a crescent moon as Ava stayed late again, her sketchbook open to new variations of the Starfire gown. She traced one of the star-patterns with her fingertip, wondering who among them might be willing to betray everything for a headline or a handful of money.
Somewhere in the tower above her, Liam worked late as well, poring over access logs and security footage, determined to pull the loose thread that would unravel the traitor’s identity.
Neither of them knew how soon that thread would lead to a revelation capable of shaking both companies — and the fragile trust between them.
- Writer
