Chapter 3

Ethan saw the look on her face as she stared at her wrist, then at her phone.

He misinterpreted it, of course.

"Moved by its beauty, huh?" he said, pulling her close. "It's perfect on you, Ava."

He kissed her hair. She didn't flinch, but inside, she was turning to stone.

Later that night, when Ethan was asleep, Ava unclasped the Cartier bracelet.

She walked to the bathroom, opened the vanity, and dropped it into the trash can, right on top of discarded cotton pads.

It landed with a soft, unsatisfying clink.

Ava was a writer. Her blog, "Sparks & Ashes," usually featured aspirational romance and lifestyle pieces.

Now, she started a new series. Fiction, she called it.

"The Gilded Cage."

It was about a woman, a writer, who discovers her fiancé, a powerful tycoon, is living a double life.

The first post detailed the protagonist's shattering discovery of illicit texts.

The raw emotion, the cold shock.

Her readers were hooked, but also confused.

"This is so dark for you, Ava!" one comment read.

"Is 'Elara' going to leave 'Julian'? He sounds awful!"

"I hope this isn't based on anything real. My heart breaks for Elara."

The comments poured in, a mix of concern and morbid fascination.

Ethan, oblivious, even mentioned it.

"Saw your new blog series, babe. 'The Gilded Cage.' Sounds intriguing. Happy ending, I hope?" He chuckled.

"Our story definitely has a happy ending."

Ava just smiled faintly. "We'll see how it unfolds."

A few days later, there was a high-profile charity gala. One of those glittering NYC events.

"Our last big night out as just fiancés," Ethan had said, beaming.

Ava dreaded it. She knew Chloe Vance moved in these circles.

And there Chloe was.

Not as a guest, but as part of the event staff, handing out programs.

She looked up, saw Ava and Ethan, and her face flushed.

A small, almost subservient nod.

A catty society columnist, known for her sharp tongue, noticed Chloe.

"Well, well, Chloe Vance still trying to climb the ladder, I see. Some people never give up on latching onto power, do they?"

The columnist's voice was loud enough for several people to hear.

Chloe looked mortified.

Before Ava could react, Ethan stepped forward.

His voice was cold, cutting.

"That's enough, Patricia. Chloe is a hardworking professional. Perhaps you should focus on accuracy in your column, instead of baseless gossip. It would be a shame if your access to certain events became... limited."

The air crackled. Patricia paled.

Chloe looked at Ethan with pure adoration.

Ava stood by, stunned and humiliated by his public defense of his mistress.

Later, some of the younger crowd started a tipsy game of Truth or Dare.

Someone dared Chloe, who was now awkwardly hovering near the bar after her duties ended.

"Chloe! Kiss the most attractive man in the room who isn't your boss!"

Chloe looked panicked. Her eyes darted to Ethan.

"I... I'll take the penalty," Chloe stammered, reaching for a shot glass of tequila someone offered as an alternative.

"I'm... allergic to shellfish, and someone said the canapés..."

"Don't be silly, Chloe," Ethan said smoothly, stepping to her side. He took the tequila from her.

"She's actually deathly allergic to tequila. A terrible reaction."

He then put an arm around Chloe's shoulders, pulling her into a brief, protective hug.

"No dares for Chloe tonight. Doctor's orders."

He winked at the group, but his eyes, when they met Ava's over Chloe's head, were hard.

Chloe leaned into him, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips.