Chapter 3

The next few weeks settled into a tense routine.

Ava performed her duties with flawless precision.

Ethan remained distant, but the incident at the Baccarat had subtly shifted something.

A new awareness.

Izzy, however, was a different story.

Her jealousy, once ignited, now smoldered, looking for fuel.

She began making frequent, unannounced visits to ReedTech.

Her excuse was always to see Ethan, but her true target was Ava.

The campaign of humiliation was subtle at first, then increasingly bold.

Izzy would "accidentally" spill scalding coffee near Ava's workspace, ruining documents, once narrowly missing Ava's hand.

"Oh, clumsy me!" Izzy would exclaim, her apology dripping with insincere sweetness.

She'd demand Ava run trivial personal errands: fetching her specific, obscure brand of tea from a cafe miles away, picking up dry cleaning, re-arranging flowers in Ethan's office to Izzy's exacting, ever-changing standards.

Snide remarks about Ava's clothes, her background (which Izzy knew nothing about, but assumed was "common"), her quiet demeanor.

"You're so... mousy, dear. You should try to speak up."

Ava endured it all with stoic patience.

She never complained. She never reacted.

She simply cleaned up the coffee, ran the errands, absorbed the insults with a quiet dignity that seemed to infuriate Izzy even more.

And often, very often, Ava ensured Ethan "coincidentally" witnessed the tail-end of these encounters.

Or their immediate aftermath: Ava dabbing at a coffee stain, Ava returning flustered from a pointless errand.

She wanted him to see Izzy's cruelty, her pettiness.

Ethan, a man who valued efficiency and loathed drama, was indeed noticing.

He'd see Izzy sweeping away from Ava's desk, a smug look on her face, and Ava looking small and stressed.

He'd hear the edge in Izzy's voice when she addressed Ava.

His frown lines deepened during Izzy's visits.

Ava would sometimes catch his gaze on her, a flicker of something – irritation at Izzy? Sympathy for Ava?

She couldn't be sure. But it was progress.

Her internal satisfaction was a quiet hum beneath the surface of her feigned composure.

The plan was working. Slowly, but surely.

Then came the "evidence."

Izzy, in a supposed fit of looking for a misplaced earring in Ethan's office (while he was in a meeting), claimed to have "discovered" something on his personal laptop, which he rarely used at the office and had left unlocked.

A series of emails.

Seemingly intimate emails between Ethan's personal account and an anonymous, encrypted address.

They discussed clandestine rendezvous, shared inside jokes, and hinted at a deep, secret connection.

They were, of course, entirely fabricated by Ava.

Her tech skills were considerable. Spoofing headers, mimicking Ethan's writing style (which she'd studied from his legitimate emails), planting them on his rarely-used device via a remote access trick she'd set up weeks ago – it was complex, but achievable for her.

She'd made them look like a secret affair Ethan was carefully concealing.

Izzy didn't wait for Ethan's meeting to end.

She stormed into the main office area, waving printouts of the emails.

"Ethan Reed! You get out here right now!" she screamed, her voice echoing through the usually quiet floor.

Employees stared, shocked.

Ethan emerged from his conference room, his face thunderous.

"Izzy, what is the meaning of this?"

"This!" she shrieked, thrusting the papers at him. "Who is she, Ethan? Who are you sneaking around with?"

Her eyes, wild and accusatory, swung to Ava, who was standing frozen by her desk, the picture of stunned confusion.

"It's her, isn't it?" Izzy lunged towards Ava. "This mousy little snake! You've been sleeping with him!"

Ava gasped, recoiling as if struck. "Ms. Sterling, no! I would never!"

Bystanders, other assistants and junior executives, murmured, their eyes wide with a mixture of shock and salacious interest.

The gossip was immediate, palpable. "Did you hear?" "The CEO and his assistant?"

Izzy grabbed Ava's arm, her nails digging in.

"You liar! You're trying to steal him from me!"

Ava cried out, a genuine flicker of pain mixed with her performance.

"Please, Ms. Sterling, you're hurting me!"

The public humiliation was intense. Ava could feel the weight of all those eyes.

She let tears well, her voice choked with feigned desperation.

"Mr. Reed, please! I don't know what she's talking about!"

Izzy dragged Ava towards the center of the office.

"I want her fired, Ethan! Fired now! This... this whore!"

The word hung in the air, ugly and vicious.

Ava looked utterly terrified, tears streaming down her face.

Just as Izzy raised a hand as if to strike Ava, Ethan moved.

He grabbed Izzy's arm, his grip like iron.

"That's enough, Izzy!" His voice was dangerously low, cutting through her hysteria.

He pulled her away from Ava.

"These emails," he said, his eyes scanning the printouts with a speed that belied his inner turmoil, "are not what they seem."

He looked around at the watching faces, his expression hardening.

"My personal account was compromised. This is part of a sophisticated spear-phishing attack we've been tracking for weeks. These emails were bait, deliberately leaked to sow discord."

It was a quick, brilliant lie. Plausible enough for a tech CEO.

He was protecting the company's image, of course. And his own.

But he also cast a protective glance at Ava, who was now sobbing quietly, cradling her arm.

He was, increasingly, protecting her too.

Izzy stared at him, momentarily stunned into silence by his authoritative tone and the technical jargon.

"Spear-phishing?" she repeated, confused.

"Yes," Ethan said firmly. "Security is handling it. Now, I suggest you go home, Izzy. You've caused enough disruption."

He didn't look at Ava, but his message was clear. The immediate crisis was averted.

He turned to his shaken staff. "Back to work, everyone. Show's over."

Izzy, deflated and embarrassed by the public dismissal, allowed herself to be steered towards the elevators by Ethan's head of security, who had materialized silently.

Ethan watched her go, then turned, his gaze falling on Ava.

"Ava. My office. Now."

His voice was unreadable.

Ava wiped her eyes, took a shaky breath, and nodded.

Anticipation, mixed with a cold thrill, shot through her. This was a critical juncture.