Ava Miller

Ava

I could still feel the touch of Orion’s lips against my neck, the warmth of his breath sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. Even now, minutes later, the memory lingered, stubborn and unyielding, refusing to be banished.

I hated it.

I hated the way my skin came alive when I thought of his touch, how every nerve seemed to spark beneath the memory of his lips. I despised how, for a fleeting moment, I had leaned into him, my body betraying me with its need—a need I refused to acknowledge.

It was nothing, I told myself, my footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as I walked briskly. Nothing but the pangs of loneliness. It had been too long since I’d been with anyone; that was all.

I would’ve reacted to any touch. It wasn’t him—not Orion. It couldn’t be him. I despised him with every fiber of my being.

Yet, despite the lies I spun to myself, the ache in my chest remained—a heavy, coiled presence that refused to leave. His smirk, his arrogance, his maddening confidence—they had no place in my thoughts.

But I remembered too well the feeling of his hands on my waist, the way his breath grazed my skin when he whispered venom and promises together. I shook my head, willing the memories to scatter like leaves in a storm.

By the time I reached my office, my hands were trembling. Each step felt like a battle, each breath a reminder that I was losing control. I pushed open the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me with a soft click.

The moment the lock clicked, my strength gave way. I slid down to the floor, my back pressed against the cold wood, and crumpled into a heap. Folding myself into the corner, I tried to disappear into the shadows.

Tears blurred my vision and then fell, hot and fast, streaking down my cheeks. I clutched at my chest, as if I could physically hold together the pieces threatening to break apart.

“It’s not because of them,” I whispered, my voice cracking with the weight of my lies. “It’s not because they got to me.” The hollow words did nothing to ease the sting on my cheek or the deeper ache that had taken residence in my heart. “It's because the slap…the slap hurts.”

I glanced down at my wrist, where a white bandage stood out starkly against my skin—a cruel reminder of yesterday’s humiliation. Chloe’s ruthless push, the twisted satisfaction on her face as she watched me fall… How many more hits could I take before I shattered completely?

And now Holly. Even Holly had turned her back on me. The pain of that cut deeper than I would ever admit to anyone. I had known isolation, but this… this felt like suffocating and the only person who should be on my side is just watching.

A sharp knock on the door jolted me from my thoughts, the sound echoing in the silence of my despair. I scrambled to my feet, hastily wiping away the tears that betrayed me.

I adjusted my clothes, steeling myself before unlocking the door. Whatever vulnerability had escaped, I would bury it deep—where no one could find it.

Rose stood on the other side with stacks of files in her arm. Her eyes, usually calm and collected, were now filled with concern. “Ma’am, I have a business proposal from a client that needs your attention.” She stepped inside, her tone careful.

I nodded, gesturing for her to sit. “Let’s get to it.” My voice sounded steadier than I felt. We delved into the details, discussing terms, strategies, and potential risks. I forced myself to focus, letting the numbers and logistics drown out the chaos in my mind.

The previous day’s sealed deal came up. We discussed the implications, and spoke of future moves. For a brief, fleeting moment, I almost felt like myself again—competent, composed, unbreakable.

But Rose’s gaze never wavered. “Ava,” she asked softly, her words laced with care, “are you okay? Did anyone say anything to you?”

I blinked, momentarily confused. Then I felt it—the cool wetness of tears, slipping down my cheeks and soaking the documents before me. A shaky laugh escaped, bitter and broken. I wiped at the tears, as if doing so would wipe away the weakness.

“It’s nothing, Rose. I’m just… tired. Haven’t been sleeping well.” The lie slipped out smoothly, practiced and hollow. She didn’t seem convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Understood,” she replied, shifting back to work mode. “Shall I call the hotel and arrange your suite for tonight?”

“No.” I shook my head, the weight of exhaustion settling deeper. “Call them and tell them I won’t be staying tonight. I’m going home.” I took a deep breath, forcing air into my lungs. “It’s time I face my… monsters.”

Rose’s expression shifted—understanding, respect, even if she couldn’t fully grasp what I meant. She moved away to make the call. Moments later, her eyes met mine, troubled.

“There’s an emergency board meeting,” she said quietly. “Mrs. Priscilla Miller called it.”

My chest tightened. “Purpose?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer wouldn't be a delightful one.

“It’s about your removal from power,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

For a second, I stared at her, stunned. Then, laughter—wild and edged with annoyance—bubbled up inside me. Rose’s worried expression blurred, but I waved her off, composing myself with every breath.

“They’re embarrassing themselves,” I muttered. “Richard ensured my position is untouchable.”

Rose nodded, awaiting my orders. “Bring me a change of clothes,” I said. “We’re not done.” She returned with a crimson dress, one that hugged every curve without crossing into indecency.

I changed quickly, relishing the silky weight against my skin. I touched up my makeup, concealing every trace of earlier tears, and tied my hair into a sleek ponytail. The reflection staring back at me was fierce, unyielding.

“Make sure everyone on my and Richard’s side is present,” I instructed as we stepped into the hallway. “And notify Connor and the new partners. I’m ready.”

Together, we moved toward the conference room, each step filled with purpose. Whatever Priscilla and Orion thought they had planned, I would not be blindsided.

I am not Ava Rodriguez anymore. I am Ava Miller.

But as I reached the doors and pushed them open, I froze, every muscle locking in place. Nothing—absolutely nothing—had prepared me for the sight before me. The room’s atmosphere shifted, charged with a tension I couldn’t yet name.