Ava hadn't seen it coming—none of it.
The instant her eyes landed on Ethan standing by the door, her breath hitched in her throat.
It was as if the air itself grew heavier, pressing against her chest.
She hadn't expected to see him there, not now, not after everything that had happened—or rather, everything she couldn't quite remember.
Her legs moved on their own, almost stiffly, carrying her to the edge of the bed.
She sat, placing her trembling hands on the mattress, fingers drumming a frantic rhythm as she fought to anchor herself to something real. The pressure in her chest grew unbearable.
Her mind was chaos.
A storm of unanswered questions and rising anxiety threatened to pull her under.
None of this matched the story she'd told herself.
The morning sun was supposed to bring clarity, peace even. But instead, she was left with a hollowness that gnawed at her ribs.
Why didn't she feel like a woman who had just spent the night with a man—someone she once trusted, maybe even loved? And more disturbingly, why couldn't she remember anything at all from the night before?
The realization had hit her like a slap to the face—the aching blankness in her memory, the strange weight in her limbs, the numbness that refused to go away.
And then the pieces had started clicking into place, one by one, when Ethan unexpectedly appeared at her door.
That's when the truth began to creep in: Liam. It had to be him.
One of his men had slipped something into Ethan's drink—some kind of intoxicating pill. And the scandalous photos circulating the internet?
The ones painting Ethan in a humiliating light? Also Liam's handiwork.
That snake knew exactly where to cut to cause the deepest wound.
But if Ava could see the threads, maybe Ethan had started to see them too.
A flicker of fear shot through her.
What if Ethan had already pieced it all together? Would he blame her for it—for being the catalyst, even if unintentionally?
Her thoughts spiraled.
Liam was cunning, meticulous—he never left a trace behind. There was no way Ethan could have discovered the truth. Right?
Her spiral was broken by the sharp knock on the door. Ethan's voice followed, louder and more urgent this time.
"Hey, are you there? We really need to talk!"
Ava jumped at the sound, her body jerking in surprise. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest.
Wasn't he supposed to walk away? Wasn't he furious with her? What could he possibly want now?
The echo of his cold words from earlier that morning still rang in her ears—words laced with anger, accusation, and something else she couldn't quite name.
And yet, hearing his voice again stirred something unexpected deep inside her, a familiar ache she thought she'd buried long ago.
"I'm not going anywhere," Ethan declared, his voice firm through the door.
Ava stared at the door, her gaze hardened, yet her resolve crumbled with each second that passed.
She was torn—between the need to protect herself and the desire to understand what had gone so horribly wrong.
Was it possible Ethan already knew the truth?
Her teeth pressed into her lower lip as she weighed the risk.
After a long moment of silence that felt like an eternity, she stood, her feet carrying her forward on instinct. Her hand found the doorknob, her fingers lingering for a breath too long before she finally turned it.
The door creaked open, and Ethan froze the second his eyes met hers. His posture shifted, his knocking hand dropping to his side as he cleared his throat in a surprisingly uncertain gesture.
Without a word, Ava stepped back, opening the door wider, silently inviting him in.
Ethan took the cue, slipping his hands into his pockets, exuding that usual air of dominance and authority as if he hadn't just shaken her world hours ago.
"I came to discuss something with you," he said plainly, dismissing all the emotional debris still hanging in the air like storm clouds.
Ava tilted her head slightly, a cold smile touching her lips. She crossed her arms, stepping in closer, refusing to let him dominate the space so easily.
"Is that what I think it is—an apology?" she asked, voice edged with sarcasm.
Ethan's brow lifted in amusement, almost as if she'd just told him a joke.
"An apology?" he scoffed, pulling one hand from his pocket and pointing at her accusingly. "You should be the one apologizing—for what you've done."
Ava blinked, stunned. "Excuse me?"
"You're really going to stand there and pretend you don't know anything?" he bit out. "You think I wouldn't find out? That you're the reason my name's plastered all over the blogs, my image dragged through the mud?"
"You're delusional," she said through clenched teeth. "It's pointless talking to someone who already has their mind made up."
"You've got a sharp tongue for a woman who doesn't even know who she's standing in front of," Ethan snapped, his voice rising with indignation.
"Well, I could say the exact same thing," Ava snapped, her tone laced with bitter sarcasm. "And tell me, what exactly are you doing in my room, Ethan? Have you forgotten already? You—you, the almighty Ethan Torres—were the one banging on my hotel door like some desperate lunatic in the middle of a scandal."
For a split second, she saw it—an unmistakable flicker of fury flash through Ethan's hazel eyes.
But instead of lashing out, he seemed to rein it in, swallowing the rage as if storing it for a more calculated strike.
His jaw tightened.
"You know," he said, voice cold and controlled as he took a step closer, "I could have you arrested for public assault. Do you realize what you've done to my reputation? There are women—plenty of them—who would give anything to be in your position."
Ava lifted her chin defiantly. "Well, lucky for you, I'm not one of them."
Ethan scoffed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Oh really?" He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "You think this is a game?"
Then his expression hardened. "How about I tell you there are two officers downstairs waiting. Just waiting for me to give the word to drag you out of here—for public disgrace, for defamation. All it takes is one call."
Ava's bravado faltered.
Her stomach twisted. Jail? That wasn't part of the plan.
She had come here to confront the chaos, to find out who Lucas had left her for, and maybe get what she was promised.
But prison? That was a different story. A threat like that could destroy her life entirely.
"You're bluffing," she managed, though her voice lacked the certainty she wanted.
Ethan's smirk deepened. Without a word, he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a number. The call connected instantly.
"Yes, boss?" came a deep voice from the other end.
"The room that I asked—"
Before he could finish, Ava stormed up to him and pressed her fingers against the screen, ending the call in one swift motion.
"Okay," she hissed, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "What do you want from me?"
A victorious glint sparked in Ethan's eyes. "Now we're talking," he said, sliding the phone back into his pocket casually. "Although, ending my call was rude. But I'll overlook that—for now. Since you seem ready to listen."
His gaze sharpened. The anger was still there, buried just beneath his composed exterior. "I didn't come all this way just to look at you, Ava. I came because I want you to fix what you've broken."
"Fix?" she echoed, stunned. "Fix what?"
"The media storm, the photos, the humiliation," he said, each word measured and cutting. "You're going to pose as my fiancée. Publicly. Starting now."
Ava blinked. "What? That's insane! What if I have a boyfriend? What then?"
Ethan chuckled under his breath and stepped closer, his presence looming. "If you had a boyfriend, I doubt you'd have been so bold to tear down a man's career overnight," he said. "Let's be real. You made this mess. Now, you're going to clean it up."
"I have a life," she snapped. "You can't just barge in and rewrite it."
"Oh, but I can," Ethan said, voice dropping an octave. "You crossed into my life, Ava. And I don't take betrayal lightly. I've done my research. I know more about your situation than you think. Your desperation. The little schemes you've been tangled in lately."
He leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. "So I suggest you choose wisely. Because the alternative? Is you behind bars by sundown."
Ava's shoulders stiffened. Her pride screamed against it, but reality sank its claws deeper with every word he said. She was cornered.
"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, the word dragged from her lips like it hurt to say it.
Ethan's lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. "That's more like it."
He stepped back, composed again, cool as ever. "You'll stay here. Don't even think about trying to run. My men will be here by evening. From there, we begin step one—repairing my image. And you, Ava," he said, pausing meaningfully, "you better start practicing how to smile like a woman in love."