She Accidentally Called the Mafia Boss “Dangerously Attractive” in a Company Voice Note
She Accidentally Called the Mafia Boss “Dangerously Attractive” in a Company Voice Note—His Reply Made 573 People Go Silent
The voice note that ruined Ava Carter’s morning was only forty-one seconds long.
Forty-one seconds of panic. Forty-one seconds of whispering in an elevator. Forty-one seconds of one tired woman saying things she would have rather confessed to a priest, a bartender, or the bottom of the East River than to the man who owned the building she worked in.
“He’s arrogant,” she had whispered, shoulder turned toward the elevator wall, phone pressed close to her mouth. “He’s impossible. He walks around like he bought Manhattan and the rest of us are just leasing air from him. But, God help me, Claire… he’s arrogant but dangerously attractive.”
Then she hit send.
Then the elevator opened.
Then Ava Carter stepped onto the forty-second floor of Wolf & Sterling, not knowing she had just sent that voice note not to her best friend Claire, but to the entire company.
Five hundred seventy-three employees.
All senior partners.
Every analyst.
The security desk.
Human resources.
And, most importantly, Adrien Wolf himself.
The man they called a consultant in newspapers, a strategist in boardrooms, and a mafia boss in whispers.
The first notification hit before Ava reached her office.
Then another.
Then twelve.
Then so many her phone began vibrating in her hand like it was trying to escape her.
Ava froze halfway down the glass hallway.
A junior analyst standing by the copier looked at her, went pale, and ducked into the break room.
Two associates stopped talking the second she passed.
Her assistant, Mia Ramirez, stood up so fast her chair rolled backward and slammed into the filing cabinet.
“Ava,” Mia whispered.
“What?” Ava asked, still out of breath from running through the lobby in heels. “Please tell me the Harrington meeting didn’t start early.”
Mia’s face looked like she had just watched a meteor hit Midtown.
“Check your phone.”
Ava laughed once, sharp and confused. “Mia, I don’t have time for—”
“Check. Your. Phone.”
Ava looked down.
The screen was a wall of messages.
Did you mean to send that to all staff?
OH MY GOD AVA.
Delete it.
You can’t delete it.
Someone downloaded it.
Is she alive?
Then there was one message at the top.
From Adrien Wolf.
My office. Now.
Ava’s stomach dropped so hard she thought she might actually faint.
“No,” she whispered.
Mia’s eyes filled with pity. “Yes.”
“No, no, no.”
“Yes.”
“I sent it to Claire.”
“You sent it to DWS All Staff.”
Ava stared at her.
Mia swallowed. “Including him.”
Somewhere down the hallway, through an open conference room door, Ava heard her own voice playing from someone’s laptop.
He’s arrogant but dangerously attractive.
A burst of laughter followed.
Ava closed her eyes.
She had survived worse than embarrassment. She had moved from Ohio to Chicago with two suitcases and a dying mother calling every night to ask if she had eaten. She had buried that mother at twenty-eight and gone back to work three days later because grief did not pay rent. She had moved to New York for Wolf & Sterling, signing a lease on an apartment so small her kitchen was basically a wall with opinions.
She had built herself from nothing.
And now, apparently, she was going to be destroyed by one accidental voice note.
“He’s going to fire me,” Ava said.
Mia reached for her hand. “Maybe not.”
“Mia.”
“Okay. Probably.”
A shadow fell across the glass partition.
Mia’s mouth closed.
Ava did not turn around.
“He’s behind me, isn’t he?”
Mia nodded very slowly.
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
Ava turned.
Adrien Wolf stood in the doorway of her office.
Charcoal suit. No tie. Black coat still hanging open like he had just stepped in from the cold. His dark hair was brushed back, damp at the edges from snow or a morning workout, and his gray-green eyes held the kind of calm that made people confess things they had not even done.
At thirty-six, Adrien Wolf was the youngest managing partner in Wolf & Sterling history. He had inherited the firm after his father’s death, cleaned out three corrupt board members, doubled revenue, and somehow turned a company once known for discreet “private security” into the most feared strategic consulting firm in New York.
Clients came to him when lawsuits, hostile takeovers, missing money, family betrayals, or threats from dangerous men became too complicated for ordinary lawyers.
No one knew exactly how much of the old Wolf empire was legal.
No one asked.
“Ms. Carter,” he said.
Ava’s mouth went dry. “Mr. Wolf.”
“My office.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bring your laptop.”
“Yes, sir.”
He looked at her for one long second.
Not angry.
That was worse.
Then he turned and walked away.
Mia exhaled. “Oh my God.”
Ava grabbed the edge of her desk. “If I don’t come back in an hour, water my plant. Delete my browser history. Take the good stapler.”
“Ava—”
“And tell my father I died doing what I loved.”
“What’s that?”
“Humiliating myself professionally.”
Ten minutes later, Ava sat in Adrien Wolf’s corner office with her laptop balanced on her knees like a shield.
His office had two glass walls, a view of Park Avenue, and the kind of silence rich people bought by the square foot. Behind him stood shelves of old books, framed maps, and one black-and-white photograph Ava had always wondered about but never dared to examine.
Adrien stood at the window with his back to her.
“Do you know how many people work here, Ms. Carter?”
Ava swallowed. “Five hundred seventy-three, sir.”
“Correct.” He turned. “And as of 9:04 this morning, all five hundred seventy-three have a strong opinion about my personality.”
“Sir, I am so—”
“Don’t apologize yet.”
She closed her mouth.
“I listened to it three times.”
Ava’s face burned.
“Three?” she whispered.
“I like to understand evidence before I respond to it.”
“Of course.”
“You do a surprisingly accurate impression of me.”
Ava stared at the floor.
“The part where I ask why,” he continued. “Very strong. Slightly theatrical, but accurate.”
“Sir, I would like to resign and join a convent.”
“No.”
“A monastery?”
“No.”
“Witness protection?”
“Tempting, but no.”
She looked up.
He leaned against his desk, arms folded. His expression remained unreadable, but there was something at the corner of his mouth. Not quite a smile. More like the ghost of one.
“You called me arrogant.”
Ava’s voice came out small. “Yes, sir.”
“Do you believe that?”
She considered lying, then remembered who she was speaking to.
“Sometimes, sir.”
He nodded. “Fair.”
Her heart pounded.
“And the other part?”
“Sir.”
“The dangerously attractive part.”
Ava’s soul left her body.
“I would like to formally request that we never mention that phrase again.”
“We may have difficulty with that. It is currently circulating through accounting.”
She covered her face with one hand.
“Ms. Carter.”
She lowered her hand.
“You’re not being fired.”
Ava blinked. “I’m not?”
“No.”
“Why?”
PART 2:
“Because,” Adrien Wolf said, “you were right.”
Ava stared at him, certain she had misheard.
He leaned back against his desk, arms folded, his gray-green eyes unreadable. “I am arrogant.”
“That was not the part I expected you to confirm.”
“No,” he said. “I imagine it wasn’t.”
Ava’s face burned so hot she wondered if the glass walls of his office had started reflecting actual flames. Beyond them, the forty-second floor had gone unnaturally still. People were pretending to work with the desperate focus of criminals hiding evidence.
Adrien picked up a black folder from his desk and dropped it in front of her.
“You are not being fired,” he said. “You are being promoted.”
Ava blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Temporary assignment. Directly under me.”
Her heart tripped. “That sounds worse than being fired.”
“It might be.”
She opened the folder. Inside were printed screenshots, message logs, call records, and a list of employee names. At the top was written: INTERNAL BREACH — ACTIVE.
Ava’s embarrassment dissolved.
“What is this?”
“A leak,” Adrien said. “For six months, confidential information has been leaving this firm. Client strategies. Private acquisitions. Security reports. Someone inside Wolf & Sterling is selling them.”
Ava looked up slowly. “And my voice note…”
“Was bait.”
The word landed cold between them.
Adrien moved to the window, hands in his pockets. “Nothing travels faster than gossip. Especially gossip involving me. Whoever forwarded that recording outside the company would reveal the path of the leak.”
Ava’s mouth went dry. “You tracked it?”
“Yes.”
“Everyone?”
“Yes.”
Ava looked back at the list.
One name had been circled in red.
Claire Bennett.
Her best friend.
The woman Ava had meant to send the voice note to.
For a second, the office vanished. All Ava saw was Claire laughing with her over cheap wine, Claire helping her move into her tiny apartment, Claire sitting beside her at the funeral home when Ava’s mother died and saying, You don’t have to be strong with me.
“No,” Ava whispered.
Adrien said nothing.
Ava shook her head. “No. Claire complains, she gossips, she steals my fries, but she wouldn’t sell company secrets.”
Adrien placed another photo on the desk.
Claire stood outside a hotel in Queens, coat collar turned up, speaking to a man Ava recognized from every warning whispered in the firm.
Marcus Vale.
Adrien’s rival.
A man who smiled in magazines and ruined people in private.
Ava sat down before her knees failed.
“When was this taken?”
“Last night.”
The room grew colder.
“She told me she was visiting her sister.”
“She lied.”
Ava pressed her fingers to the photograph as if touch could change it. “Why show me?”
“Because Claire trusts you.”
Ava looked up sharply. “No.”
“You haven’t heard the request.”
“I don’t need to.”
Adrien’s expression remained calm. “I need you to speak to her.”
“You mean trap her.”
“I mean survive what she may have already involved you in.”
Ava laughed once, hollow. “This morning I was worried I’d lose my job because I called you attractive. Now I’m apparently bait in a corporate mafia spy drama.”
“Dangerously attractive,” Adrien corrected.
She glared at him.
For one brief second, his mouth curved.
Then the office phone rang.
Adrien answered, listened, and went completely still.
Ava had never seen stillness turn dangerous before.
“When?” he asked.
A pause.
“Lock the elevators.”
He hung up.
“What happened?” Ava asked.
“Claire just entered the building.”
Ava stood. “Then I’m going downstairs.”
“No.”
“She’s my friend.”
“She came with Marcus Vale.”
Ava stopped breathing.
A second later, every phone on the forty-second floor chimed.
Once.
Together.
Ava’s phone lit up in her hand.
New voice note: Ava Carter — DWS All Staff.
“That’s impossible,” she whispered. “I didn’t send anything.”
Adrien took the phone from her and pressed play.
Ava’s own voice filled the office, colder than she had ever sounded.
“Adrien Wolf thinks he knows who betrayed him. By noon, everyone will know what he really is.”
Silence followed.
Then chaos broke loose beyond the glass.
Employees stood. Phones rang. Someone cursed. Someone else started crying.
Adrien looked at Ava.
For the first time, she saw something beneath his control.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“That isn’t me,” she said.
“I know.”
“How?”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Because whoever made that recording doesn’t know you only call me arrogant when you’re frightened.”
Ava should not have noticed how softly he said it.
She did anyway.
The floor’s security doors clicked shut.
Mia appeared outside the office glass, pale and panicked. Adrien opened the door before she could knock.
“There are men in the lobby,” Mia said breathlessly. “Not clients. Security tried to stop them, but they had badges.”
“Fake badges,” Adrien said.
Mia looked at Ava. “Claire is with them.”
Ava’s stomach twisted.
Adrien turned to his desk, opened a drawer, and removed a slim black phone.
Not his office phone.
Not a company phone.
Something older, heavier, and clearly not meant for conference calls.
He pressed one button.
“North stairwell,” he said. “Now.”
Then he looked at Ava. “You’re coming with me.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You’re the person they’re impersonating. That makes you valuable.”
“That is not comforting.”
“It wasn’t meant to be.”
They moved fast.
Adrien led her through a private door behind his bookcase, because apparently men like him did have secret doors in their offices. Ava followed him into a narrow corridor lit by emergency strips.
Mia stayed behind with two security guards, though she grabbed Ava’s wrist first.
“Don’t die,” Mia whispered.
“I was hoping for a less dramatic Tuesday too.”
Adrien guided Ava down a service staircase. His hand hovered near her back but never touched without permission. Somehow that made her more aware of him.
On the thirty-ninth floor, he stopped.
Voices echoed below.
Men.
Claire’s voice among them.
Ava’s heart clenched.
“Adrien,” Claire called from somewhere beneath them. “I know she’s with you.”
Ava froze.
Adrien’s eyes flicked to hers.
Claire laughed, but it sounded wrong. Thin. Sharp. “Ava, come down. Don’t let him use you.”
Ava stepped toward the railing.
Adrien caught her wrist gently. “Careful.”
“That’s Claire.”
“That was Claire,” he said.
Ava pulled free, but softly. “I need to hear her.”
Adrien studied her for one second, then nodded.
They descended to the landing.
Claire stood one floor below with Marcus Vale beside her.
Claire looked beautiful in a white coat Ava had helped her choose. Her blond hair was tucked behind one ear. Her lipstick was perfect. Her hands were shaking.
Marcus Vale was smiling.
He had the polished look of a man who had never apologized sincerely in his life.
“Ava,” Claire said, relief flashing across her face. “Thank God.”
Ava gripped the railing. “Tell me this isn’t real.”
Claire’s eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry.”
Two words.
They broke something six years old.
Ava swallowed. “Why?”
Claire looked at Adrien, hatred rising through her fear. “Ask him what his family did to mine.”
Adrien’s face did not change.
Marcus stepped forward. “Your boss has built a kingdom on buried bodies and clean invoices. His father ruined families. His clients disappear problems. And everyone here smiles because the paychecks clear.”
Ava looked at Adrien.
“Is that true?”
Adrien’s jaw tightened. “Part of it.”
The admission hurt more than denial would have.
Claire seized the moment. “See? He’s not a businessman, Ava. He’s a Wolf. They don’t protect people. They own them.”
“And Marcus?” Ava asked. “Does he protect people?”
Claire flinched.
Marcus smiled wider. “I expose monsters.”
“No,” Adrien said quietly. “You sell to the highest bidder and call it justice when the check clears.”
Marcus’s smile vanished.
Ava looked at Claire. “You sent the recording?”
“The first one? No.” Claire wiped her cheek. “That was you.”
“The fake one.”
Claire’s silence answered.
Ava felt sick.
“You cloned my voice.”
“I didn’t know they would use it like this.”
Ava laughed, but there was no humor in it. “What did you think voice cloning was for? Birthday cards?”
Claire stepped closer. “I was trying to help you. Marcus said Adrien would pull you into this once he suspected me. I needed insurance.”
“Against me?”
“Against him!”
Adrien moved slightly in front of Ava.
She noticed.
So did Claire.
“Oh,” Claire whispered, bitterness twisting her face. “You like him.”
Ava went still.
Claire shook her head. “Of course you do. Of course perfect Ava Carter walks into the wolf’s den and decides the wolf is misunderstood.”
Ava’s voice hardened. “Do not make this about jealousy.”
“It was always about jealousy!” Claire snapped.
The stairwell went silent.
Claire’s tears spilled now. “You lost everything and still kept climbing. People respect you. He noticed you. Even before today, he noticed you. And I was just the friend you called when your life was hard.”
Ava stared at her.
“That’s what this is?” she whispered.
Claire looked ashamed for half a second.
Marcus touched her shoulder. “Enough.”
Adrien’s eyes sharpened.
Ava saw it then.
Claire was not in control.
She was afraid of Marcus.
Before Ava could speak, the lights went out.
Emergency red flooded the stairwell.
A gunshot cracked below.
Ava screamed.
Adrien grabbed her and pulled her behind him as metal sparked off the railing.
“Run,” he ordered.
They ran.
Up two flights, through a service door, into a dark records floor lined with old cabinets and covered furniture. Alarms pulsed faintly. Somewhere below, men shouted.
Ava’s breath tore in her throat.
Adrien locked the door behind them and pushed a cabinet in front of it.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
He looked down.
A dark stain spread across his upper arm.
“It’s nothing.”
“That is the official sentence of men who die in bathrooms because they refuse hospitals.”
He almost smiled. “You argue under pressure.”
“I panic efficiently.”
She tore the scarf from her neck and wrapped it around his arm. Her fingers shook. His skin was warm beneath her hands.
Adrien watched her face.
“What?” she snapped.
“You’re angry.”
“My best friend betrayed me, someone stole my voice, men are shooting in a stairwell, and you apparently have a secret mafia phone. Yes, Adrien, I’m experiencing mild irritation.”
He lowered his gaze, and for once, he looked almost human.
“I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes.”
“I thought distance would protect you.”
“From what?”
“Me.”
Ava tied the scarf tight. He inhaled sharply but did not pull away.
“You really are arrogant,” she said quietly. “Thinking you get to decide what people can survive.”
His eyes met hers.
For a moment, the alarms faded.
Then a monitor on the far wall flickered on.
Ava turned.
The screen showed the company lobby.
Employees huddled near security gates. Men in dark coats moved through the marble hall. Marcus stood at the center, speaking into a phone.
Claire was beside him.
Then Claire looked up at the camera.
Straight at Ava.
Her lips moved.
Ava could read them.
I’m sorry.
Then Claire slipped something from her sleeve and pressed it beneath the security desk.
Adrien went rigid.
“What is that?” Ava asked.
“A drive.”
“Good?”
“No,” he said. “Very bad.”
On the screen, every lobby monitor changed at once.
A title appeared.
THE WOLF ARCHIVE.
Files began uploading.
Names. Payments. Photos. Old contracts.
Adrien’s face drained of color.
Ava stared. “That’s what Marcus wanted?”
Adrien stepped toward the screen as if he could stop the past with his bare hands. “That archive contains every private agreement my father ever made.”
“Criminal agreements?”
“Some.”
“And yours?”
He turned to her.
“No.”
Ava believed him before she decided to.
That frightened her.
“If that goes public,” he said, “innocent people die with the guilty.”
Ava looked at the scrolling names. Judges. executives. union leaders. families. addresses.
“This isn’t exposure,” she said. “It’s a hit list.”
Adrien nodded.
The door handle rattled.
Ava backed up.
Adrien pulled her behind a row of cabinets.
The door burst open.
Two men entered.
Adrien moved first.
Ava had seen him command rooms. She had seen him silence partners with one glance. She had never seen him fight.
It was brutal, efficient, and almost silent.
One man went down against the cabinet. The other swung a knife. Adrien caught his wrist, twisted, and drove him into the floor.
Ava grabbed a heavy file box and hit the man when he tried to rise.
He collapsed.
Adrien looked at her.
She stared at the box. “I told you. Efficient panic.”
This time, he did smile.
Then his black phone rang.
He answered, listened, and his expression turned deadly.
“Say that again.”
Ava moved closer.
He ended the call.
“What?”
“The archive upload isn’t coming from the lobby anymore.”
“Then where?”
Adrien looked at her laptop bag.
Ava followed his gaze.
“No.”
He said nothing.
With trembling hands, she opened the bag and pulled out her laptop.
It was on.
She had shut it down before leaving her office.
A progress bar glowed across the screen.
UPLOAD: 61%.
Ava’s stomach dropped.
“They used me,” she whispered.
“Your credentials.”
“My laptop.”
“My office request put it in your hands,” Adrien said. “That was the plan.”
Ava looked at him. “Marcus knew you’d bring me.”
“Or Claire did.”
The words sliced.
Ava opened the terminal with shaking fingers, trying every command she knew. Access denied. Access denied. Access denied.
“I can’t stop it.”
Adrien stepped behind her. “Can you slow it?”
“Maybe.”
“Do it.”
Her fingers flew. She killed network processes, rerouted the connection, forced errors, buried the upload under false authentication loops. The progress bar stuttered.
63%.
64%.
Then stopped.
Ava exhaled.
Adrien leaned close enough that his voice brushed her ear. “Well done.”
She tried not to shiver. Failed.
Then the laptop camera light turned on.
The screen went black.
Marcus Vale appeared.
“Ava,” he said pleasantly. “You always were smarter than Claire said.”
Ava’s blood chilled.
Adrien stood behind her, eyes like winter.
Marcus sighed. “Adrien. Still bleeding on expensive floors?”
“What do you want?” Adrien asked.
“The truth.”
“No,” Ava said. “You want leverage.”
Marcus’s eyes flicked to her. “Careful. You’re new to this game.”
“I’m a woman in consulting. I was born in this game.”
Adrien’s mouth twitched despite everything.
Marcus’s smile thinned. “The upload resumes in nine minutes unless Mr. Wolf gives me what I came for.”
Adrien’s voice was flat. “Which is?”
“My brother.”
Ava looked at Adrien.
For the first time all morning, Adrien looked genuinely shaken.
Marcus leaned closer to the camera. “Tell her. Tell Ava where Luca Vale is.”
A long silence.
Ava whispered, “Adrien?”
Adrien’s eyes remained on the screen. “Dead.”
Marcus’s face changed.
“No,” he said softly. “Hidden.”
“Dead,” Adrien repeated. “My father killed him twelve years ago.”
Marcus shook his head. “Liar.”
“I found the record after my father died.”
“You forged it.”
“I buried him.”
The words struck the room like thunder.
Marcus went still.
Adrien’s voice lowered. “There was nothing left to save.”
For a heartbeat, even Marcus looked like a grieving brother instead of a monster.
Then his face hardened.
“Then I’ll bury your empire.”
The screen cut off.
The progress bar jumped.
72%.
Ava cursed.
Adrien moved toward the exit. “I need the server room.”
“You need stitches.”
“I need to end this.”
Ava grabbed his sleeve. “And what am I supposed to do?”
“Stay here.”
She stared at him.
He sighed. “You won’t.”
“No.”
“Fine.” He opened the door. “Stay close.”
They crossed the dark floor toward the internal server suite. The building groaned around them, elevators locked, alarms muted, the whole tower holding its breath.
At the server room entrance, Claire waited alone.
Her white coat was stained with blood.
Not hers.
Ava stopped.
Claire held up both hands. “I’m not armed.”
Adrien did not lower his guard.
Claire looked at Ava. “I didn’t know Marcus would shoot anyone.”
“But you knew he’d hurt people.”
Claire’s face crumpled. “I wanted him to scare Adrien. I wanted the truth out. I wanted…” She looked down. “I wanted to matter.”
Ava felt tears burn her eyes, but they did not fall.
“You mattered to me.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Behind them, the laptop in Ava’s bag chimed.
85%.
Claire pulled a keycard from her pocket. “This opens the server room. Marcus changed the access.”
Adrien took it.
“Why help now?” he asked.
Claire looked at Ava. “Because she would have helped me.”
Ava hated that it was true.
Adrien swiped the card.
Green light.
The server room opened with a hiss of cold air.
They entered.
Rows of machines blinked blue in the dark. Ava connected her laptop to the central console while Adrien stood watch and Claire hovered at the doorway like a ghost.
90%.
Ava worked fast. “I can sever the upload, but it’ll trigger a data dump unless I give the system a destination.”
Adrien understood first. “Use my private server.”
“That makes you the only holder of the archive.”
“I already am.”
“No,” Claire said from the door.
They turned.
She was staring past them.
Marcus Vale stood behind her.
His arm was locked around her throat.
A gun rested against her ribs.
“Step away from the console,” Marcus said.
Ava froze.
Adrien’s expression emptied.
It was the most terrifying thing she had seen all day.
Marcus smiled. “There he is. The Wolf without his suit.”
Claire trembled. “Ava, don’t—”
Marcus tightened his grip.
Adrien took one step forward.
Marcus lifted the gun.
Ava looked at the screen.
94%.
Adrien looked at her.
In that tiny glance, Ava understood.
He was asking her to choose.
Claire or the archive.
Ava’s whole life had been built on impossible choices. Rent or medicine. Grief or work. Truth or survival.
Her fingers moved.
Not to stop the upload.
Not to save Adrien.
To send it somewhere else.
Marcus noticed too late.
“What did you do?”
Ava hit enter.
The servers screamed.
The lights flashed white.
UPLOAD COMPLETE.
Marcus laughed. “You stupid—”
Every phone in the building chimed.
Then every screen turned on.
Not with the archive.
With a single live video.
Marcus Vale, holding Claire at gunpoint.
His confession from Ava’s laptop replayed beneath him.
“The upload resumes in nine minutes unless Mr. Wolf gives me what I came for.”
Then another clip.
“I’ll bury your empire.”
Then another.
His men storming the lobby.
His fake badges.
His gun.
Ava had not deleted the archive.
She had buried it under evidence.
Five hundred seventy-three employees watched Marcus Vale expose himself.
Adrien moved.
Claire dropped.
The gun went off.
Glass shattered.
Marcus hit the floor with Adrien above him, one hand crushing his wrist, the other at his throat.
“Enough,” Adrien said.
It was not loud.
It did not need to be.
Security flooded in seconds later.
Real security.
Police sirens wailed below.
Claire sat on the floor, sobbing silently.
Ava stood at the console, shaking so hard she could barely breathe.
Adrien rose and came to her.
“You redirected the stream,” he said.
“I weaponized gossip.”
His gaze softened. “Dangerous woman.”
Ava gave a weak laugh. “Attractive too?”
His eyes held hers.
“Very.”
The word landed between them with more force than the gunshot.
Then his phone rang.
Adrien answered.
Listened.
His face changed.
Not anger.
Not fear.
Something older.
He looked at Marcus, who was being dragged upright by security.
Marcus was smiling through blood.
Adrien ended the call slowly.
Ava whispered, “What now?”
Adrien looked at her.
“Luca Vale is alive.”
The room went silent.
Claire lifted her head.
Marcus began to laugh.
And somewhere deep inside the building, a locked server that no one had touched in twelve years began sending one final file.
Its title appeared across Ava’s screen.
May you like
FOR AVA CARTER.
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