Chapter 2

Izzy's relief was palpable when Ethan finally called her later that day.

He was calm, dismissive of the morning's "misunderstanding."

"She's just my assistant, Izzy. She helped me when I was out of it. That's all."

His voice was reassuring, the one he used when he wanted to smooth her ruffled feathers.

Ava, listening from her desk outside his office via a discreetly placed microphone, almost smiled.

He was trying to manage Izzy, not protect Ava.

Not yet.

"But Ethan, darling," Izzy cooed, her tone shifting to possessive affection. "You know how I get. I just worry about you. I love you so much."

"I know, Izzy. I love you too," Ethan replied, the words sounding automatic, a practiced response.

Ava knew from her research, from the gossip columns, from the subtle cues she'd observed, that Ethan's "love" for Izzy was more complex.

A bond forged in family alliances and societal expectations, perhaps.

But Izzy's devotion was absolute, bordering on fanatical.

It was her greatest weakness.

And Ava would exploit it.

Later, Izzy insisted on meeting Ethan for lunch.

She arrived at ReedTech, all smiles and designer clothes.

But as she passed Ava's desk, her eyes narrowed.

A new thought, a fresh wave of suspicion.

She remembered the sounds from the phone call, the rustle of sheets.

Ethan had covered for Ava in the suite. Too quickly. Too easily.

The cologne bottle. The towel. It felt thin now.

"Ethan was about to take a shower," Ava had heard him say.

But when Izzy had stormed in, he was still in yesterday's clothes, looking like he'd just woken up.

The detail snagged in Izzy's mind.

Izzy left Ethan's office after a brief, tense lunch.

She paused again at Ava's desk.

Ava kept her head down, typing diligently, the picture of focused efficiency.

Izzy said nothing.

She just stood there for a moment, radiating disapproval.

Then, she swept out.

Ava let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

The facade was holding.

But Izzy was like a dog with a bone.

She wouldn't let this go easily.

Ava's internal triumph was cold, precise. Izzy's suspicion was exactly what she wanted.

A few minutes later, Ethan buzzed Ava into his office.

She entered, her expression carefully neutral, perhaps a little subdued.

"Mr. Reed?"

He looked up from his monitor, a slight frown on his face.

"Ava, I... apologize for this morning. And for Izzy's behavior."

Ava feigned a blush, looking down. "It's quite alright, Mr. Reed. I understand. It was a confusing situation."

She made her voice soft, a little hesitant.

"I should have just left immediately. I'm sorry if I caused any trouble between you and Ms. Sterling."

Her eyes, when she finally lifted them to his, were wide and artfully innocent.

"It's not your fault," Ethan said, though his tone was still clipped. He clearly hated these dramas.

"Ms. Sterling can be... protective."

Ava nodded slowly. "I just hope... I hope this won't affect my position here, Mr. Reed."

She allowed a note of carefully calibrated anxiety to enter her voice.

"This job... it means everything to me."

She paused, then added, as if the words were difficult to say, "After my brother... well, I've been on my own. Supporting myself hasn't been easy."

A hint of her (true) backstory, delivered for maximum sympathetic impact.

Leo's memory, a sharp pang, but she pushed it down, using it.

Ethan's expression softened almost imperceptibly.

He was a man of logic, of systems, but he wasn't entirely immune to a damsel in distress, especially one who was also remarkably competent.

"Your job is secure, Ava. You're a good assistant."

A beat of silence.

"Thank you, Mr. Reed," Ava said, relief flooding her voice. Feigned relief.

"You can go," he said, turning back to his screen, dismissing her.

Ava retreated, her heart a steady, cold drum.

As she reached the door, he spoke again, without looking up.

"My driver usually leaves around six. If you're working late, let him know. He can drop you."

It wasn't an order this time. It was a subtle offer.

A small favor.

Ava's lips curved into a genuine, almost invisible smile as she closed the door.

He was starting to see her. Not just as an assistant.

Good.