Ava Cole stood in the crowded lobby of the Sterling Tower, clutching her coffee cup like a lifeline. The sleek, glass-paneled building had once been a beacon of success in the city—its sharp, angular design representing the heights Ava aspired to. Now, after two years of working at Archer & Lewis Architects, the thrill of getting a foot in the door had long worn off. The glass walls didn't seem so shiny anymore. The polished floors didn't feel so inviting.
The weight of routine settled on her shoulders, and Ava couldn't help but wonder if she was meant for something bigger, something more.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, pulling her from her thoughts. She checked the screen—another email from her boss, detailing yet another last-minute change to the building plans she'd spent days refining. Sighing, Ava slid her phone back into her purse, adjusting the strap on her shoulder. She was always fighting to stay one step ahead—always battling against deadlines, difficult clients, and the occasional condescending remark from her colleagues.
But today felt different.
As she made her way to the elevator, the familiar faces of her coworkers blurred in the background. She didn't mind the anonymity. She liked being just another face in the crowd. The elevator doors slid open, and she stepped inside, only to be met with the crisp, rich scent of cologne that filled the small space.
Ethan Blackwell.
He was standing in the corner, staring straight ahead. Tall, with dark, brooding eyes and a quiet intensity that made Ava's pulse quicken every time their paths crossed. He didn't notice her at first—lost in thought as usual. Ethan Blackwell wasn't just the CEO of Blackwell Development, one of the largest property firms in the city. He was a man wrapped in mystery, his every move carefully calculated, and his past cloaked in shadow.
Ava shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor. She had heard the rumors about him—about his affairs, his coldness, and the way he played the game of business with ruthless precision. He had an air of danger about him, and though she hated to admit it, there was something captivating about him. Something that pulled her in.
The elevator pinged as it reached the 24th floor. Ethan stepped out without a word, leaving Ava to follow behind, a little flustered.
She walked down the long corridor to her desk, eyes skimming over the projects stacked on her workspace. Yet, despite the familiar hum of office life, her thoughts kept drifting back to Ethan. What was it about him?
Ava opened her laptop and began to sift through her emails, but then her phone buzzed again. It was a text message, but the number was unfamiliar.
"You don't know me, but you're in danger."
A chill ran down Ava's spine, her hand hovering over her phone as she tried to process the message. It could be a prank. Or spam. Or, worse, a joke. But the words seemed… urgent. She glanced around the office, half-expecting someone to be watching her, but everything appeared normal.
Another text came in almost immediately.
"I know what you're doing, Ava. You're closer to the truth than you realize. Don't trust anyone. Not even him."
Ava's heart skipped a beat. Him?
Her mind raced. The "him" was a mystery—there was no context, no explanation. But something about it felt real. She didn't know how, but she could sense the urgency. It was as if the text was a warning, a puzzle piece dropped in her lap that she wasn't sure how to fit.
She stared at the screen, her fingers frozen over the keys. She didn't know who sent it, but the cryptic tone of the message seemed to echo something she couldn't place. And then, just as suddenly as it arrived, another message popped up.
"Stay close to Ethan. But not too close. Trust no one."
The name Ethan hit her like a jolt of electricity. Her mind raced. Was this a mistake? A warning to stay away from him? Or was there something more? Was Ethan involved in this? The city's most powerful, enigmatic figure, connected to everything—real estate deals, political connections, corporate mergers—yet never seen outside his office or his high-rise penthouse.
Ava's phone buzzed again. This time, it was a notification from her bank. A transaction alert. She swiped the notification away, but then froze. The amount—$5000—was not a number she recognized.
Had someone accessed her account? Was this connected to the message?
Her heart thudded in her chest. For the first time in a long time, Ava felt something close to fear. She quickly shut her laptop, the weight of her own uncertainty pressing on her chest.
Her office phone rang, breaking the silence. Ava snapped to attention.
"Hello?"
"Ava," her boss's voice echoed through the line. "You're in charge of this project, right? The one on the Thompson Building?"
"Uh, yes," Ava replied, still distracted by the messages on her phone.
"I need you to meet with Ethan Blackwell this afternoon. I'll send you the details."
Ava's blood ran cold. She glanced down at her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. Ethan. Was this coincidence, or was there more to this than met the eye?
"Right. Of course," she said, her voice betraying none of the confusion swirling inside her.
She hung up, feeling as though the walls were closing in around her. She had always been careful, cautious in everything she did. But now, someone was watching her. And that someone knew her name.
And it was clear: the deeper she went, the more dangerous the game would become.