Chapter 3

Chloe' s apartment was in a sleek, modern building overlooking the Potomac.

The doorman, recognizing Ava from society pages, announced her with a hesitant phone call.

A moment later, Chloe' s voice, syrupy sweet, came through the intercom. "Ava, darling! What a surprise! Do come up."

Ava' s hand clenched. Maya squeezed her arm reassuringly.

They rode the elevator in silence, the tension thick.

Chloe opened the door herself, dressed in a silk robe, a picture of delicate allure.

Her eyes, however, held a glint of triumph.

"Ava, and Maya too! To what do I owe this pleasure?" she asked, her voice dripping with false innocence.

The apartment was strewn with evidence of a small gathering – empty glasses, a few scattered cushions. But no other guests.

"Where is my guitar, Chloe?" Ava asked, her voice low and steady.

Chloe feigned confusion. "Your guitar? I have no idea what you' re talking about."

"Don't lie to me. I know you have it."

Chloe placed a hand on her chest, looking wounded. "Ava, why would I take your guitar? I' m not even musically inclined." She glanced towards her bedroom. "Ethan just left, actually. He was so worried about you. He said you were acting... strangely."

Ava' s eyes narrowed. "He' s still here, isn' t he?"

She could feel it. Ethan' s presence. He was hiding. Like a coward.

Chloe' s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. "Don' t be ridiculous. Why would Ethan hide from you?" She coughed delicately. "I' m not feeling very well, actually. Perhaps you should go." She was trying to appeal to some sense of propriety, to the idea that Ava wouldn' t make a scene if Chloe was "ill."

Ava had seen through Chloe' s manipulations too many times.

"I' m not leaving without my guitar," Ava said, stepping further into the apartment. "And I know Ethan is here. I' m going to search this place."

Chloe' s eyes flashed with anger. "You can' t just barge in here and accuse me! I' ll call security! I' ll call Ethan' s father!"

"Go ahead," Ava said, her voice cold. The fear she' d felt before was morphing into a white-hot rage. "But I' m finding my guitar first."

She walked past Chloe, heading towards the bedroom. Maya followed, a silent, supportive shadow.

Chloe sputtered behind them, but didn' t try to physically stop them.

Ava pushed open the bedroom door.

The room was opulent, decorated in shades of cream and gold.

And there, propped in a corner, was her mother' s Martin guitar.

Relief washed over Ava, quickly followed by a fresh wave of anger.

She rushed towards it.

As she got closer, she saw it.

A deep, ugly scratch marred the polished wood of the soundboard.

Not just a scratch. A gouge. Deliberate. Vicious.

And something sticky, like spilled nail polish, stained the fretboard.

Desecrated. Her mother' s legacy, defiled.

A strangled cry escaped Ava' s lips.

She turned, her eyes blazing, and saw Chloe standing in the doorway, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Oops," Chloe said, her voice light. "Did I do that? So clumsy of me."

The casual cruelty, the blatant enjoyment in Chloe' s eyes, snapped something inside Ava.

Years of suppressed frustration, of feeling invisible, of being undermined, exploded.

Before Maya could react, Ava lunged.

She grabbed Chloe by the front of her silk robe, her fingers digging into the fabric.

"You bitch!" Ava screamed, her voice raw with pain and fury.

She shoved Chloe hard against the wall. Chloe cried out, more in surprise than pain.

Ava raised her hand, and for a wild, satisfying moment, she imagined striking that smug face.

Maya grabbed her arm. "Ava, no! She' s not worth it!"

Chloe, recovering quickly, pushed Ava' s hand away.

"Get off me! You' re insane!" she shrieked, her delicate facade crumbling to reveal the viper beneath. "It was an accident! And it' s just an old guitar! You can' t prove anything!"

"An accident?" Ava' s voice trembled with rage. "You did this on purpose! You' ve always been jealous! You can' t stand anyone else having Ethan' s attention for a second!"

"That' s not true!" Chloe cried, but her eyes darted nervously towards the main room. "I' m calling Ethan! I' m telling him you assaulted me!"

As if on cue, the bedroom door to the hallway, which Ava hadn't noticed was slightly ajar, opened fully.

Ethan stood there.

His face was a thundercloud.

He didn' t look at the damaged guitar. He didn' t look at Ava' s tear-streaked face.

His eyes went straight to Chloe, who immediately burst into tears, clutching her arm as if Ava had broken it.

"Ethan! Thank God you' re here!" Chloe sobbed, rushing to him. "Ava... she attacked me! She' s gone mad!"

Ethan wrapped his arm around Chloe, pulling her protectively against him.

He looked at Ava, his eyes filled with cold fury.

"What the hell do you think you' re doing, Ava?" he demanded, his voice like ice. "Are you completely unhinged?"

"She destroyed my mother' s guitar!" Ava cried, pointing to the damaged instrument. "Look what she did!"

Ethan barely glanced at it. "Chloe said it was an accident. It' s a guitar, Ava. An object. You assault my sister over an object?"

"It' s not just an object!" Ava' s voice cracked. "It was my mother' s! It' s all I have left of her! And she did it deliberately! She' s been taunting me, trying to provoke me!"

Ethan looked from Ava' s impassioned face to Chloe' s tearful one.

Chloe burrowed deeper into his side. "I would never... She' s making it up, Ethan. She hates me because you care about me."

"It' s just a guitar, Ava," Ethan repeated, his voice flat, dismissive. "Chloe is fragile. She wouldn' t intentionally hurt you or your things. You' re overreacting. Perhaps you' re projecting your own insecurities."

Ava stared at him, her heart sinking. He wouldn' t even consider her side. He wouldn' t even look at the evidence of Chloe' s malice.

"You really believe her?" Ava asked, her voice hollow. "After everything?"

"I believe Chloe wouldn' t lie to me about something like this," Ethan said, his gaze unwavering. "She' s too sensitive. This whole situation has clearly upset her terribly." He stroked Chloe' s hair. "We' ll get to the bottom of this. I' ll have someone look into how the guitar was damaged."

Ava knew what that meant. Chloe would be protected. Someone else would be blamed.

Or worse, Ava herself would be painted as unstable, hysterical.

The injustice of it choked her.

He was choosing Chloe. Again. Always.

The beautiful, vintage Martin, her mother' s soul in wood and string, lay damaged in the corner, a testament to Chloe' s cruelty and Ethan' s blind devotion.

And Ava was utterly, devastatingly alone.