Ava barely slept.
The memory of Damian's words clung to her, their weight heavier in the darkness of her bedroom. Bryan came in sometime after midnight, the scent of whiskey clinging to him like cheap cologne. He didn't ask where she'd been, didn't notice the tension etched across her features, and certainly didn't care.
He collapsed on the bed, fully clothed, and began to snore within minutes. Ava lay awake beside him, staring at the ceiling, wondering how her life had narrowed into this quiet kind of suffocation.
By morning, she forced herself into her routine. Wash…..Dress….. Smile. The same beige uniform. The same practiced greetings. The same hollow sense of invisibility.
But today, the world felt different.
Word among the staff spread fast — Mr. Cross had extended his stay.
No one questioned why. When a man like Damian Cross decided to linger, the reasons weren't theirs to know.
The whispers in the staff lounge danced between awe and fear. Tales of his ruthlessness. Rumors about how he'd bankrupted entire companies with a single phone call. The man was a legend, a ghost story CEOs told each other to sleep with one eye open.
Ava tried to drown it all out. She buried herself in room service runs and guest requests, keeping to quieter corridors where the elite rarely wandered.
But escaping him wasn't that simple.
She entered the linen room to gather fresh towels for one of the penthouse suites and nearly collided with a small box resting on the supply cart. An envelope lay atop it, her name scrawled in a hand she recognized immediately.
What is he doing?
Glancing around, Ava snatched the note and slipped it into her pocket, heart pounding. She finished the delivery, then ducked into the breakroom.
Her fingers trembled as she unfolded the card.
"You're worth noticing. — D"
Inside the box, a delicate bracelet of silver and pale blue stones sparkled against dark velvet…. Elegant….Subtle. The kind of thing that would go unnoticed by anyone who didn't look too closely.
She shut the lid, her pulse increasing and sounding deeper in her ears.
This couldn't happen.
It was reckless, Dangerous. And yet… no one had ever given her anything without a string attached. Bryan's gifts were obligatory, if they existed at all. This felt… personal.
That evening, she considered slipping the bracelet back onto his penthouse door. She even made it to the top floor, the box cold in her hands.
But when she reached the suite, the hallway was empty. The door slightly ajar.
Curiosity pulled her forward before sense could intervene.
She stepped closer, meaning to leave the box at the threshold and leave unseen. But voices drifted from within — not loud, but tense.
"…I don't care about the merger's numbers. If they can't deliver by next quarter, we gut the entire division."
Damian.
Ava froze. His tone held the same smoothness she remembered, but colder now…Sharper. The voice of a man who moved pieces on a chessboard no one else could see.
She should have turned away. She should have left.
But a second voice spoke — one of his associates, by the sound of it. "And the girl?"
Silence stretched long enough for Ava's breath to catch.
"She's not your concern," Damian replied quietly. "I'll handle her."
Ava's stomach dropped.
Before she could move, the door opened.
And there he was.
Damian Cross stood in the doorway, no surprise in his expression. As though he'd known she'd be there. As though he'd expected it.
Ava's mouth went dry.
"I— I was just—" she began.
He reached for the box in her hand, brushing his fingers against hers. The contact sent a shock through her, lighting every nerve in its path.
"I hoped you'd find this," he murmured. "But you didn't have to return it."
She stepped back. "I can't accept this."
"Why not?"
"Because… I'm married. And you're my employer's client. And this…" She gestured weakly between them. "This is impossible."
Damian's gaze held hers, unflinching. "The only impossible things are the ones we refuse to reach for."
Ava had no answer for that.
"I won't pressure you, Ava," he said, voice lowering. "But I won't pretend I'm going to stop wanting you, either."
She turned and left.
As the elevator doors closed, Ava clutched the box tight against her chest, torn between terror and exhilaration.
She didn't notice the pair of sharp eyes watching from the far end of the hall.
Not until it was too late.
The days blurred together after that encounter.
Ava buried herself in work, moving through each shift like a performer reciting lines she no longer believed in. The hotel felt smaller, the walls closing in tighter with every passing hour. Every corner, every shadow, seemed to hold the possibility of Damian Cross.
And she hated how part of her wanted to see him again.
The bracelet stayed hidden in the bottom of her bag, a constant reminder of a line she was dangerously close to crossing.
At home, Bryan remained as indifferent as ever. He hardly spoke to her, more absorbed in his phone and late-night drinking than in anything she did or said. It wasn't new, but now it grated more than before. Every ignored glance, every dismissive grunt, felt heavier in the space between them.
One evening, while she cleared the dinner plates, Bryan's voice cut through the silence.
"You've been acting strange."
Ava froze. It wasn't concern in his tone — it was suspicion.
"I don't know what you mean," she replied, keeping her voice even.
He scoffed. "Coming home late, staring off like you're somewhere else. You seeing someone?"
Her stomach twisted. "No, Bryan."
He eyed her for a long moment, then shrugged. "Whatever. Just don't embarrass me."
As if he'd ever cared enough to be embarrassed.
Ava gritted her teeth, collecting the dishes and retreating to the kitchen. The moment his attention shifted back to the television, she exhaled shakily.
The world outside their tiny apartment felt like a trap closing in, and somehow, the only person offering a way out was the one she should be avoiding.
The following afternoon at the hotel, the inevitable happened.