Ivan pulled up to Ava's apartment in his sleek black Aston Martin, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. He had no idea why he felt tense. It was just Ava. His best friend. The woman he had known for years, who never once treated him differently after his rise to billionaire status.
And yet, something about tonight felt different.
He checked his watch. 6:58 PM. Two minutes early. He never waited for anyone, but for Ava, he would. Always.
Before he could overthink it, the front door swung open, and Ava stepped out.
Ivan's breath stalled.
She wasn't trying to be breathtaking, but she was. The deep emerald dress she wore was effortlessly elegant, hugging her in all the right ways without trying too hard. Her hazel eyes sparkled under the soft glow of the streetlights as she smiled and waved.
She was still her—no fancy jewelry, no overdone makeup—just Ava, but in a way that made something in his chest tighten.
She slid into the passenger seat, fastening her seatbelt before glancing at him. "What?"
He realized he had been staring. "Nothing."
She smirked. "You were totally staring."
"Was not."
"Were too." She nudged his shoulder playfully. "It's okay, Blackwood. I know I clean up nice."
Ivan shook his head, forcing a smirk to hide the fact that she was right. "You look… decent."
Ava gasped dramatically. "Decent? Wow. That's the best compliment I've ever received from the almighty Ivan Blackwood."
He chuckled, shifting the car into drive. "Don't get used to it."
---
The Event
The venue was exactly what Ava hated—grand chandeliers, champagne trays floating through the crowd, and people who only talked in business deals.
"This is not casual," she muttered under her breath as they stepped inside.
"You expected casual?" Ivan asked dryly.
She shot him a look. "You said yes to being my plus-one. I thought that meant no intimidating billionaire energy."
"This is me being less intimidating," he said, smirking.
Ava rolled her eyes but looped her arm through his anyway, leading him toward a small group of her coworkers.
As expected, the moment they approached, all eyes flickered to Ivan.
"Ava, you didn't tell us your date was Ivan Blackwood," one of her coworkers, a tall blonde woman, gushed.
"He's not my date," Ava corrected quickly. "He's my best friend."
Something about the way she said it—so definite, so quick—rubbed Ivan the wrong way. Not that he had any right to be annoyed.
Still, the blonde smirked. "Best friend? That's what they all say before they end up together."
Ava laughed. Ivan didn't.
Because deep down, he wished it were true.
---
As the night went on, Ivan did what he always did—watched Ava. The way she threw her head back when she laughed. The way she could hold a conversation with anyone and make them feel important. The way she belonged in a world that he only ever endured.
At some point, she nudged him. "You good?"
"Yeah."
"You sure? You've been quiet."
He smirked. "I'm always quiet."
"Not with me."
His smirk faltered. She was right. With her, he was different. He could be just Ivan.
Before he could respond, a voice cut in.
"Ivan Blackwood. Haven't seen you at one of these in a while."
Ivan turned and immediately tensed. Nathan Carter. A business rival and, more importantly, Ava's ex.
"Carter," Ivan greeted coolly.
Nathan's gaze flicked between him and Ava, an amused smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't expect to see you here, man. Thought these events were beneath you."
"Guess I'm making an exception."
"For Ava?" Nathan raised a brow. "Didn't peg you for the best-friend-who's-secretly-in-love type."
Ivan's grip on his champagne flute tightened. Too much. Too obvious.
Ava laughed, completely oblivious. "Oh, please. Ivan's not in love with me."
Nathan hummed, clearly unconvinced. "If you say so."
Ivan said nothing.
Because for the first time, he was afraid that if he spoke, the truth would slip out.
And that was a line he couldn't cross.