Chapter 3

Mr. Henderson, oblivious or uncaring, was already steering Ava towards a group of his associates.

"Ava, this is Mr. Peterson, a very important man in this town," Henderson boomed, his voice slick with false bonhomie.

Peterson, older, with eyes that stripped Ava bare, gave her a slow, appraising look.

"A lovely companion, Henderson," Peterson said, his gaze lingering. "Perhaps she could fetch me another drink? And be quick about it, dear."

The demand was casual, a flick of the wrist, but the implication was clear, she was a servant, a plaything.

Ava felt the familiar burn of humiliation rise, but she kept her face smooth, her voice even.

"Of course, Mr. Peterson."

As she turned, her eyes met Jax' s.

His expression was one of cold, distant scorn, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before they hardened. He recognized her, clearly.

Chloe, his fiancée, looked from Peterson to Ava, a small frown creasing her brow.

She saw Ava' s distress, the subtle tremor in her hands as she reached for Peterson' s empty glass.

"Actually, Mr. Peterson," Chloe said, her voice gentle but firm, "I was just about to get a drink myself. I can get yours."

She offered Ava a small, sympathetic smile.

Peterson looked momentarily surprised, then shrugged. "As you wish, Ms. Albright."

Ava murmured a "thank you" to Chloe, her cheeks burning.

Jax watched the exchange, his contempt for Ava seemingly unwavering, yet a tiny crack appeared in his certainty as he saw Chloe' s compassion and Ava's quiet, strained dignity.

Later, as Henderson paraded her around, he boasted loudly to another associate, "She's got connections, this one. Knew the Carters back in the day. Young Jax Carter, the architect? Used to be sweet on her, or so I hear."

He winked, oblivious to Ava' s mortification.

Ava wanted the floor to swallow her.

She caught Jax's eye again. This time, his scorn was mixed with a dawning, unpleasant understanding.

Mrs. Henderson found Ava near the restrooms later, her face a mask of fury.

"You little tramp," she hissed, grabbing Ava's arm, her nails digging in. "Making a fool of my husband, flirting with that Carter boy. You think you're something special?"

Ava pulled her arm away, her voice low. "I'm not doing anything."

"You're a paid whore, that's what you are. Don't forget it." Mrs. Henderson shoved her lightly against the wall before stalking off.

Ava leaned against the cool marble, taking a shaky breath. This was her life.