Ava's car inched towards her apartment building, the sea of reporters and flashing cameras growing more visible with each passing second. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles turning white as she steeled herself for the onslaught.
"You can do this," she muttered under her breath. "Just ignore them and keep walking."
As soon as she stepped out of the car, the crowd surged forward.
"Miss Johnson! Miss Johnson!" The cacophony of voices blended into a dizzying roar.
A microphone was thrust into her face by a young reporter with eager eyes. "Is it true you're refusing the inheritance?"
Ava pushed past him, keeping her head down.
Another journalist, a middle-aged woman with a sharp suit, blocked her path. "What about the marriage clause? Any potential suitors lined up?"
Ava's jaw clenched as she shouldered her way through.
