The next few days were a blur for Ava. The Thompson Building project consumed her every waking moment, but no matter how much she buried herself in designs and revisions, one thing lingered in the back of her mind: Ethan Blackwell. There was something about him—something beyond his sharp business acumen and magnetic presence—that unsettled her. He was too calculating, too enigmatic.
She found herself replaying their meeting over and over in her mind, dissecting every word he had said, every glance he'd cast her way. At first, she chalked it up to simple nerves—she was, after all, a junior architect working under the most powerful man in the room. But as the days passed, her unease deepened.
The mysterious text messages had only added to her growing paranoia. Every time her phone buzzed, she half expected it to be another warning, another cryptic message from the unknown source. She'd gone to the police, but they'd brushed her off, suggesting it was nothing more than a prank or a mistake. But deep down, Ava knew better. Something was happening. Something was slipping out of control.
She spent that evening at her small apartment in the city, staring out the window at the shimmering skyline, trying to clear her thoughts. It was late, and the city below seemed almost peaceful, a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside her.
A sudden knock at the door broke her out of her reverie. She wasn't expecting anyone. Her first instinct was to ignore it, but then her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't just a message—it was a call.
Ava's heart skipped a beat. She recognized the number. It was him. Ethan.
She hesitated, staring at the screen as if it were some kind of puzzle she had to solve. Then, with a deep breath, she swiped to answer.
"Ms. Cole," Ethan's voice crackled through the phone, as smooth and confident as ever. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
His tone was casual, but there was an underlying tension in it that made her spine stiffen.
"No, not at all," she replied, trying to sound as unaffected as possible. "What can I do for you?"
"I need you to meet me. There's something important I need to discuss, and it's better if we do it face to face."
Ava's pulse quickened. The last time they had spoken, it had been about business. This time, it felt... different.
"Where?" she asked, already knowing what he was going to say.
"You're familiar with The Garden Suite, yes?" The Garden Suite was a high-end, exclusive restaurant perched atop one of the city's tallest buildings—a place she could never afford to dine at. "I'll send a car for you. Fifteen minutes."
Before she could respond, the line went dead.
She stood frozen for a moment, the silence of her apartment swallowing her whole. What was this about? Why couldn't he just send an email or schedule another meeting at the office?
Ava's gut twisted with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. But her intuition was telling her to go—there was something she needed to understand. Something about Ethan Blackwell that couldn't be uncovered behind a desk. She grabbed her coat, slipping on her shoes with shaky hands.
Ten minutes later, she was standing in front of her apartment building, staring at the sleek black car idling at the curb. The tinted windows obscured the driver's face, but she recognized the logo on the side of the car—Blackwell Development. It made her stomach churn. Ethan's reach was everywhere, even here.
She slid into the backseat, and the car pulled away from the curb without a word. The city lights flickered outside as they sped toward their destination, her mind racing with a thousand questions. What was it that Ethan wanted to discuss so urgently? And why was it so important that it had to be in person?
The car eventually slowed and pulled up in front of The Garden Suite. The restaurant was as luxurious as its reputation, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. Ava could see the lights of the skyline stretching out beneath her, the hustle and bustle of the city below. But inside, the restaurant was nearly empty, save for a few patrons seated in dimly lit corners.
A tall man in a suit opened the door for her, leading her inside with the quiet efficiency of someone who was used to catering to high-profile clients.
Ethan was already seated at a corner table, his back to the window, the soft glow of candlelight illuminating his sharp features. He looked every bit the powerful CEO—the man who commanded attention without even trying.
"Ms. Cole," he greeted her, standing as she approached. "I'm glad you could make it."
She took a seat across from him, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate despite the businesslike air surrounding them. As the waiter poured wine into her glass, Ethan's eyes never left her face.
"I thought it would be nice to get out of the office for a change," he said, his voice smooth. "You've been working hard on the Thompson Building project. How's it going?"
"Better, now that I've had some time to review the plans," Ava replied, focusing on her glass. "But I'm assuming this isn't just about the project."
Ethan smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "You're perceptive. It's not just about the project. I wanted to talk to you about something... personal."
Ava raised an eyebrow. "Personal?"
"Yes. You see, I've been looking into something, and I think you might be able to help me."
A chill ran down her spine. "What do you mean?"
Ethan's gaze darkened slightly. He leaned forward, his tone lowering. "There are things happening, things you don't yet understand. And I need someone like you—someone with your skills and your... instincts—to help me uncover the truth."
Ava's breath caught in her throat. She had no idea where this conversation was going, but she could feel the weight of it pressing down on her chest.
"Truth about what?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Ethan looked her dead in the eye, his expression unreadable. "About the people who are watching you."
Ava froze. Her heart skipped a beat. She had tried to ignore the fear creeping into her thoughts, the unsettling feeling that she was being followed, watched. But now, hearing it from him, it became all too real.
Her instincts screamed at her to run, but she stayed seated. Whatever game Ethan was playing, she knew she couldn't walk away from it now. Not without answers.
"I'm listening," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them.
Ethan's lips curved into a slight, calculating smile. "Good. Because the real game is just beginning."