Ives’ POV
She quit, she actually quit. And you want to know the worst part? It wasn’t when she walked out. It was the night before that, the night I chose to destroy her. I was actually excited to go home. Don’t laugh, it’s rare. But that night? Marla had texted me a photo of her burnt pasta, joking that she added poison for extra spice. I’d laughed, out loud, in public. Then bought a bottle of wine I knew she liked, something overpriced and stupid.
I even left the office early. Early. I was halfway to the elevator in the garage when she showed up. Ava. Wrapped in some designer coat, eyes sharp behind her lashes. Like she’d been waiting.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I muttered, brushing past her.
But she stepped in front of me. Blocked the way to my car like she owned it. “You’ve been busy playing house with your little secretary,” she said, her voice sweet but fake.
I kept walking. “You’re wasting your breath.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” she said. Then she shoved her phone in my face. At first, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. It was Marla, smiling, leaning across a table. A man’s hand is visible near hers. That blind date Dana dragged her on, months ago, long before me. But the photo was edited. Cropped, twisted, and her dress color darkened. The guy’s wedding ring was added in.
“She looks like a homewrecker in this one, doesn’t she?” Ava smiled. “Imagine what your board would say. The press. The investors.” My stomach dropped.
“You’re bluffing.”
She scrolled to another image. “I’ve got more. I know people. And if that doesn’t make you fold-” she paused, then smiled wider, like she enjoyed what was coming next. “-I know where her grandmother lives.” My entire body locked up.
“What did you just say?”
She leaned in close. Whispered like we were co-conspirators. “Accidents happen, Ives. Houses catch fire. Old women forget to take their meds. People get hurt.” I saw red. I grabbed her arm, pulled her in so fast she gasped.
“If you so much as go near her-”
“Then leave the girl,” she said calmly. “Let her go. Hurt her, if you have to. Make it real. Or I will.”
I did the only thing Ava would believe. I crushed her. I was cold. Distant. I told her I kissed Ava. Slept with her. Made it sound like it meant nothing. Like Marla meant nothing. And the second I saw her eyes shatter, I knew I'd succeeded. I played the villain. Because if protecting her meant she had to hate methen, I’d take it. I’d take every bit of her anger, her heartbreak, her silence. Because I’d rather be her worst mistake… than the reason she ever got hurt.