The gala night shimmered like a painting come to life.
Golden chandeliers cast warm halos over the massive ballroom. Every guest sparkled—men in sleek tuxedos, women draped in floor-length gowns stitched with crystals, diamonds, and bold ambition. It was a night where power wore silk and secrets moved behind veiled smiles.
Ava stood by the staircase, half-shadowed, her navy blue dress hugging every curve. It had been hand-delivered by Selene's assistant earlier that afternoon. Ava had tried to protest again—but she remembered Selene's earlier words too well:
> "You will wear what I choose. You will represent me tonight."
It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command.
But Ava hadn't seen Selene since. Not in three days. And when the car arrived to pick her up for the gala, the backseat was empty.
Now, she stood alone—watching Selene from across the ballroom.
The CEO was breathtaking in an all-black gown with a plunging neckline and sharp diamond collar. Her hair was swept up, her expression cool, unreadable as ever. She stood surrounded by corporate giants, diplomats, and influencers, laughing politely, shaking hands. Untouchable.
Ava's heart thudded with a painful ache. She didn't know if it was longing or humiliation.
Selene hadn't looked at her once.
"Ava Hayes?" a voice asked.
She turned to see a young, handsome executive smiling warmly, champagne flute in hand. "You're Selene's assistant, right? Mind if I borrow you for a dance?"
Ava hesitated. It was a harmless gesture. Selene hadn't given her any orders tonight. She wasn't touching her. Wasn't speaking to her. She might as well be invisible.
So Ava smiled.
"Sure."
They walked to the center of the dance floor just as the orchestra changed tune. Soft violins filled the air.
The stranger held her gently, guiding her in smooth circles. "You're quite the mystery," he said. "Working that closely with a woman like Selene Black… I'd expect you to be a little more guarded."
Ava laughed softly. "Maybe I'm just tired of guarding."
They danced through the entire piece. But as the music faded, Ava caught a flash of Selene's face in the crowd—dark eyes locked on her.
Selene was watching now.
Not amused.
Not pleased.
Just…calculating.
And suddenly, Ava knew.
She'd stepped into dangerous territory.
The violin's final note still lingered in the air when Ava stepped off the dance floor, her pulse pounding harder than it should. That gaze—Selene's dark, focused stare—hadn't just cut through her; it had burned.
The executive—Daniel, she remembered vaguely—offered her a polite smile and another drink.
But Ava was already moving away.
Something in her gut told her the night had shifted.
Selene was gone from the crowd.
Not at the bar. Not in the VIP lounge.
Ava moved toward the back hallway of the venue, past the floral arrangements and velvet drapes that muffled the noise of the party. And that's when she saw her—alone, at the far end of a private hallway, sipping dark wine, silhouetted by the low amber lights.
Ava hesitated at first.
But Selene spoke without turning around.
"Did you enjoy the dance?"
Ava swallowed. "It was harmless."
Selene turned now, slow and deliberate. Her voice was cool, but not emotionless. It carried weight, like a warning dressed as a whisper.
"You belong to me, Ava. When you let another man touch you—even in jest—you insult what we are. What I made you."
Ava stepped forward, something defiant flickering inside her. "You've been ignoring me for days. I didn't even know if we were still—"
"Still what?" Selene's eyes gleamed. "Still mine?"
That word hit Ava like a slap. It wasn't a question. It was a declaration.
Ava lowered her voice. "You told me to focus on work. You said no touching, no distractions."
Selene stalked forward, heels silent on the marble floor. She stood just inches away now, her voice like velvet steel.
"And you took that as permission to flirt?"
"I wasn't flirting." Ava's breath caught. "I just… I wanted you to see me again."
Selene's eyes narrowed. "Then congratulations. You have my full attention now."
For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension. But Selene didn't touch her. She didn't lean in.
Instead, she said:
"Go back inside. Smile for the cameras. Be perfect. We will talk later."
Ava's lip trembled, but she held firm. "And if I don't?"
Selene's eyes darkened. She leaned close, her breath ghosting over Ava's ear.
"Then I'll make sure the next time I touch you… it's punishment."
And with that, she turned and walked away.
Later That Night – The Aftermath
The gala ended in a haze of champagne and camera flashes. Ava didn't see Selene again. Not in the car. Not at the estate.
By midnight, she was lying in her bed, still in the navy gown, makeup smeared, heart aching.
Selene was in the guest wing again.
Avoiding her.
Or restraining herself.
Ava didn't know which was worse.
The Morning After
The next morning brought silence.
Selene didn't come down for breakfast.
Her schedule was packed: Boardroom meetings. International calls. An emergency sit-down with a Dubai investor.
Ava watched from a distance, her chest tightening.
This was worse than rejection. It was erasure.
Selene had created her… shaped her… broken and remade her. And now she treated her like glass. Fragile. Unimportant.
Until—
That night.
A knock came on Ava's door.
She opened it fast, hoping—
But it wasn't Selene.
It was Mara, her assistant.
"Miss Black wants you dressed and ready in twenty. She's taking you to a private dinner."
Ava blinked. "Now?"
Mara only nodded, then added, "Don't speak unless spoken to. Don't sit unless invited. And wear black."
Ava stood before the full-length mirror, adjusting the black silk dress Mara had laid out. It clung to her like a second skin—backless, with a slit that teased halfway up her thigh. Her lips were red, her hair twisted up into a tight knot. It wasn't a look she would have chosen for herself.
But it was what Selene wanted.
And tonight, Ava would play the part. Quiet. Perfect. Poised.
A black car idled at the entrance to the estate. The driver didn't speak. The ride into the city was quiet, every mile twisting Ava's stomach tighter.
She was dropped at a private entrance to a rooftop restaurant—no signage, no crowd. Just luxury wrapped in silence.
Selene was already there.
She stood near the edge of the rooftop, back to Ava, wrapped in an obsidian coat that shimmered like oil under the soft glow of city lights. The night wind tugged at her hair.
Ava approached slowly.
"Sit," Selene said, not turning.
A small round table was set with wine, rare steak, and golden utensils. Two seats. One untouched.
Ava obeyed.
The silence stretched.
Selene finally turned.
Her face was unreadable—sharp, beautiful, cold.
"You disobeyed me at the gala."
Ava opened her mouth to defend herself.
"Don't speak," Selene cut her off. "You've spoken enough this week."
Ava's throat closed. She bit her lip and dropped her gaze.
Selene slowly took her seat across from her. "Tell me what you've learned in my silence."
Ava blinked. "What?"
"You heard me."
She hesitated, then answered, voice low. "That I'm nothing when you stop looking at me."
Selene tilted her head, curious. "Go on."
"That you built me up just to watch me fall apart," Ava whispered. "That I wanted you to see me again, even if it meant making you angry."
Selene set down her wine glass, her voice silk-wrapped steel. "I told you not to touch. Not to tempt. Not to misbehave."
"I was trying to get your attention."
"You had it," Selene said. "You always had it. But you don't get to control how I give it."
The wind stirred between them.
"Why bring me here?" Ava finally asked.
Selene's eyes pierced hers. "To remind you what you are."
"And what's that?"
Selene stood slowly, walked behind Ava's chair, and leaned in so close her breath tickled Ava's neck.
"You're mine. But I don't play with broken dolls."
Ava shivered.
Selene reached around and traced her collarbone with a finger.
"But I might… rebuild you again."
Ava inhaled sharply.
"Don't beg for touch when you're not ready for pain."
Ava turned, desperate. "Then make me ready. Or let me go."
Selene leaned in further, lips brushing her earlobe.
"You don't want to be let go."
And just like that—Selene moved away.
She returned to her seat and calmly cut into her steak.
Ava's hands trembled under the table. She felt undone.
"Eat," Selene ordered. "You'll need your strength for what comes next."
Selene turned to face her.
"I've punished you long enough," she said softly. "Now I'll remind you who you belong to."
Ava couldn't breathe. Her skin flushed hot, her knees felt weak just at those words.
She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Selene could see the answer in her eyes.
Selene stepped closer, reaching out with slow, deliberate grace. Her fingers brushed down the front of Ava's chest, tracing the neckline of her dress. The touch was featherlight, but Ava shuddered under it as if she'd been struck.
"You've waited," Selene murmured. "You've behaved. You've worked. But more importantly…" Her lips grazed Ava's cheek, breath warm. "You've missed me."
Ava nodded. Her voice came out breathy. "So much it hurts."
Selene's eyes glinted. "Good."
She slid her fingers down Ava's arms, until she gripped both wrists and pinned them behind her back in one sharp move. Ava gasped, her chest arching forward.
"Then kneel."
Ava dropped without hesitation, her knees hitting the plush rug. The power dynamic slammed back into place like a lock clicking into position.
Selene didn't touch her at first. She just circled her. Slowly. Predatory. Her heels clicked softly against the floor. Ava's breath was ragged, her body already trembling with need.
"You've craved this," Selene said from behind her. "Haven't you?"
"Yes."
"My hands. My mouth. My control."
"Yes, Selene."
Selene stopped in front of her, fingers trailing under Ava's chin. She tilted her face upward.
"You'll get all of it. But only when I say."
"Yes, Selene."
The back of Selene's hand grazed Ava's lips.
"Strip."
Ava obeyed instantly, removing her gown with slow, sensual movements. The fabric slid off her skin like water. She didn't stop until she was completely bare, kneeling in nothing but submission and desire.
Selene's eyes devoured her. "You're beautiful when you remember who owns you."
And then, without warning, Selene shoved her backward onto the bed.
Ava gasped, sinking into the mattress. The canopy curtain swayed around her as Selene climbed on top, fully clothed.
"Don't touch me," Selene commanded. "Just feel."
And then Selene's hands were everywhere—raking down Ava's ribs, squeezing her thighs apart, dragging nails over sensitive skin. She kissed her neck, bit her shoulder, sucked marks into her collarbone that screamed claimed.
Ava was already writhing.
"You want to come?" Selene asked coldly.
"Yes," Ava whimpered.
"Then beg like you mean it."
"Please, Selene. I need you. I need your fingers. Your mouth. Anything. Just—don't stop punishing me."
Selene's smirk was dark and satisfied. "That's better."
She slid her hand between Ava's thighs and finally, finally touched her properly.
Ava cried out, back arching.
Selene didn't stop. Her fingers moved in slow, devastating circles. Deep. Controlled. Ruthless.
"You'll come only when I allow it," she warned.
Ava moaned.
"Hold it."
"I—Selene—I can't."
"Hold it."
Selene bit her neck, her tongue hot against the welt she left behind.
"Now," she whispered.
Ava shattered, her scream echoing off velvet walls. Her body bowed beneath Selene's power, every nerve alight.
But Selene wasn't finished.
She flipped Ava onto her stomach, dragging her to the edge of the bed. Her hands pinned Ava's hips in place.
"Good girls get more."
And Ava broke again.
Again.
And again.
By the time Selene finally stopped, Ava was trembling, crying softly into the pillow. Boneless. Shaking. Owned.
Selene pulled her up and wrapped the sheets around her, finally giving her a soft kiss to the temple.
"You're mine," she whispered.
Ava nodded against her chest.
"Yes, Selene."
The room was quiet now, except for the soft hum of the city outside the penthouse windows.
Ava lay curled in silk sheets, her skin flushed and marked, her body still trembling from the way Selene had ruined her—and then held her so gently after.
Selene stood by the window, arms crossed, her robe loosely tied over her chest, staring out at the skyline like she was trying to forget what just happened… or trying not to feel it too deeply.
Ava blinked up at her from the bed, her voice raspy. "You're quiet."
Selene didn't turn around. "Should I not be?"
"You just acted like I was yours."
"You are," Selene said flatly.
"Then why does it feel like you're a million miles away again?"
Selene's jaw tightened.
"I don't do... feelings," she said coolly.
"Bullshit," Ava whispered, sitting up, still naked, dragging the sheet around her. "What you just did wasn't empty. That was you losing control. Just a little."
Selene turned sharply, eyes hard. "I never lose control."
Ava smiled, tired but sure. "You did tonight. Just enough to feel real."
There was a long silence.
Selene looked like she wanted to deny it, to retreat into the armor she always wore—but Ava's gaze held her in place.
"You're in over your head with me," Ava said softly. "And that scares you."
"I don't get scared."
"You do. When I get too close."
Selene moved toward the bed, slow and sharp like a panther. She stopped at the edge and stared down at Ava, but her expression was unreadable now.
"If I were scared," Selene said coldly, "you'd be gone."
Ava lifted her chin, unafraid. "But I'm still here."
Selene's eyes darkened. "Don't test me, Ava."
"Then stop testing me."
A strange silence settled between them—thick, charged, intimate.
Selene slowly sat on the edge of the bed, not touching her, not even looking directly at her now.
"I have a meeting in five hours," she muttered. "And a gala tomorrow. I don't have time for this conversation."
"You never do," Ava said gently. "But I'll still be here when you finally make time."
Selene exhaled quietly, her voice low. "That's what scares me."
And then, unexpectedly, she leaned in—not for sex, not for power—but to press her lips to Ava's forehead. A long, lingering kiss that was... tender.
Ava froze.
Selene pulled back quickly, the mask returning. "Sleep."
Then she stood and walked out, robe flowing behind her like armor.
And just like that, Ava was alone again—sore, marked, and craving more than Selene would ever admit she could give.
But something had shifted. Ava had seen it.
Selene did feel.
And maybe, just maybe, that was the crack Ava needed to break through everything Selene tried so hard to bury.
The morning light poured in through the penthouse windows, golden and unforgiving.
Selene was already dressed—charcoal gray slacks, crisp white blouse, and a blazer that screamed power. Her hair was twisted into a sharp chignon, every strand in place. She sipped her coffee like it was ammunition and scrolled through her tablet with icy focus.
She didn't even glance at Ava, who sat at the kitchen island in nothing but one of Selene's silk shirts, legs bare and hair still messy from the night before.
The silence stretched.
Ava cleared her throat softly. "So… good morning?"
Selene didn't look up. "There's orange juice in the fridge."
"That's it? No 'how did you sleep'? No 'about last night'?"
Selene tapped a note on her screen. "We both know what last night was. There's nothing to discuss."
Ava stood slowly, crossing the marble floor until she stood beside Selene.
"Then tell me. What was last night?"
Selene finally looked up.
Her eyes were calm—too calm. "It was me reminding you of your place."
Ava's jaw clenched. "Right. And what's that again? Beneath you?"
Selene's lips curled slightly. "Exactly where you begged to be."
Ava flinched. Just a little.
Selene rose, gathering her things. "I have back-to-back meetings until five. Then I'm expected at the Wexler Foundation Gala. You'll attend with me. Wear black. Keep your mouth shut."
Ava folded her arms. "And what if I don't want to be your pretty little shadow tonight?"
"Then you'll stay home. And I'll find someone else to fill the role."
That stung.
Selene didn't wait for a response. She picked up her keys and turned toward the elevator.
But just before stepping inside, she paused.
"No touching. No talking. No distractions until after the gala," she said quietly without turning. "I need to focus."
Ava blinked. "You're cutting me off?"
"You said it yourself," Selene replied coolly. "I'm scared. This is me regaining control."
And with that—she was gone.
Later That Night – The Gala
The ballroom sparkled with crystal chandeliers and whispers of old money. Paparazzi flashed like fireworks outside, and the scent of perfume and power clung to the air.
Selene moved like a goddess—unreachable in a midnight-black gown that hugged her hips and bared one sharp shoulder. Her expression was neutral, polite, cold.
Ava trailed behind her in a stunning off-shoulder silk dress, black as instructed, lips painted a fierce red. But no matter how hard she tried to match Selene's energy, it was clear—she was the outsider in Selene's curated world.
Every time Ava looked at her, Selene was busy—talking to investors, posing with board members, laughing too easily with men in tailored suits.
And every time Ava got close, Selene moved away.
It was punishment. Silent, strategic.
But Ava wouldn't break.
She just smiled.
Waited.
Watched.
Because underneath Selene's mask, Ava saw it—that flicker of awareness, the way Selene's jaw clenched when Ava laughed too loudly with a charming young entrepreneur, or the way her eyes narrowed when she caught Ava dancing—casually, slowly—with someone else.
Selene was jealous.
Selene was unraveling.
And Ava? She was done being obedient.
The music swelled as the live quartet played something slow and sharp—like silk hiding a blade.
Selene stood near the bar, nursing a champagne flute with practiced elegance. Her smile was hollow, her posture flawless. But her eyes… her eyes tracked Ava's every move.
And Ava made sure she gave Selene something to watch.
She was laughing now, hand brushing the arm of a tall redhead in a velvet suit who clearly had no idea Ava was very much taken. The woman leaned in, whispering something into Ava's ear that made her chuckle softly.
Selene's fingers tightened around her glass.
Jealousy, raw and vicious, flared in her chest.
She had created the distance. She had built the wall. But watching someone else get close to Ava—touch her, even innocently—wasn't something Selene had prepared herself for.
And Ava knew it.
After a moment, Ava glanced over her shoulder, locking eyes with Selene.
That look was deliberate.
Playful.
Daring.
Selene's jaw clenched.
Without thinking, she moved.
Crossing the floor like a shadow in heels, Selene reached them just as the redhead offered Ava another drink. Her hand slid around Ava's waist with deadly ease, claiming her, branding her.
"She's taken," Selene said smoothly. "But thank you for your service."
The redhead blinked, startled. "Oh—I didn't realize—"
"You do now," Selene cut in. "Enjoy the rest of your night."
With a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes, she turned Ava around and pulled her toward the balcony before she could say a word.
They stepped into the cool night air, away from the eyes and noise.
Ava yanked her arm away. "What the hell was that?"
Selene didn't answer. She was too busy staring at Ava like she was something dangerous and intoxicating.
"Did you forget your little rule?" Ava pressed. "No touching, no talking, remember?"
Selene took a slow breath, her voice low. "You don't get to flirt with someone else in front of me."
"You don't get to freeze me out for a month and expect me to sit in a corner waiting like a toy on a shelf."
Selene moved closer. "You're not a toy."
"Then stop treating me like one."
The silence that followed was electric.
The city lights below flickered like stars, and between them, the heat simmered dangerously.
Selene's hand hovered near Ava's waist—but didn't touch.
"You made your point," Ava whispered. "You're in control. You win. So what now?"
Selene looked at her like she wanted to kiss her. Or devour her. Or run away.
Instead, she said nothing.
And that—that—was enough to make Ava step back.
She turned on her heel, walking toward the ballroom doors.
"I'm done waiting for you to decide if I'm worth the risk," she said without looking back. "You said you needed space. Fine. I'll give it to you. But don't expect me to still be standing here when you finally come looking."
She vanished into the crowd before Selene could respond.
And Selene?
She stayed on that balcony, alone, staring out over the city like it might have the answers she didn't.
Because for the first time… she realized she might lose the one person who made her feel like she still had a soul worth saving.
Selene didn't return to the ballroom right away.
Instead, she remained on the balcony, silent, her fingers curled tightly around the railing. The night air was cool against her skin, but her chest burned with something far more volatile than jealousy.
It was fear.
Not the kind she was used to—contracts collapsing, investors pulling out, stocks fluctuating. No. This fear was personal. Raw.
She had pushed Ava too far.
And for once, Ava hadn't chased after her. She hadn't waited for the cold to melt. She had walked away. Proud. Confident. Devastating.
Selene returned to the gala floor twenty minutes later, hoping to spot her in the crowd.
But Ava was gone.
Her driver confirmed it minutes later—Ava had left in a separate car, alone.
And Selene?
She stayed.
She made speeches.
She smiled for photographs.
She shook hands, gave charming nods, and accepted praise for the gala's success.
But inside?
She was breaking.
Later that night…
The penthouse was too quiet.
Selene stood in the doorway to Ava's bedroom—untouched. Neat. Cold.
No rumpled sheets. No kicked-off heels. No scent of lavender and vanilla clinging to the air.
She wasn't home.
Selene checked her phone.
No missed calls. No texts.
For the first time in months, Ava hadn't sent her the usual post-gala photo—her curled up on the bed, barefoot, usually with some sarcastic caption.
Selene stared at the screen until the brightness stung her eyes.
She set the phone down and walked away.
But sleep didn't come.
Not that night.
The next morning…
Selene walked into the boardroom with perfect posture and a flawless face. Her assistant briefed her on the agenda. She nodded, said all the right things, but she wasn't present.
Not really.
Every now and then, she glanced at her phone. Still nothing from Ava.
She didn't want to admit it—but it was killing her.
It wasn't just the sex.
It was the silence.
It was the look on Ava's face when she said, "Don't expect me to still be standing here when you finally come looking."
Because Ava wasn't just standing anymore—she was walking away.
And Selene wasn't sure she knew how to follow.
Ava, on the other hand…
Wasn't sulking.
She was living.
She went to the café down the street, ordered her favorite matcha, and smiled at the barista. She read through her emails, worked on her next campaign, and even flirted a little with the woman at the front desk who'd been giving her eyes for weeks.
She was tired of begging for crumbs from someone who didn't know how to love out loud.
And she wasn't waiting anymore.
Not for an apology. Not for a change.
Selene finally broke two nights later.
It was raining.
She didn't call.
She showed up.
Ava's temporary apartment was quiet when she knocked. And knocked again.
Then the door opened.
Ava stood in leggings and a long cardigan, barefoot, her hair in a messy bun. She looked tired. Comfortable. Peaceful.
Selene's heart twisted.
"Ava…" she began.
Ava crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"
Selene hesitated.
"I messed up."
"You did."
"I thought pushing you away would help me stay in control."
"It didn't."
"No," Selene said, her voice softer now. "It didn't."
Ava didn't invite her in. She didn't melt at the apology. She waited.
Selene stepped closer. "I miss you."
"I miss me too," Ava replied. "The me I was before I made you the center of my universe."
That one hit deep.
Selene dropped her gaze. "I don't know how to do this without hurting you."
"Then don't do it until you learn how," Ava said, gently but firmly. "Because I deserve more than promises wrapped in silence."
Selene looked at her, really looked at her. "You're not coming back."
"I'm not waiting anymore."
And with that, she closed the door.
Selene didn't cry.
Not in the hallway.
Not in the car.
But when she got home to the empty penthouse, to the perfume that lingered but the woman who didn't—
She finally broke.
Two days passed.
Two long, hollow days since Ava closed the door.
Selene had called once. Ava hadn't answered. She hadn't blocked her either—she just didn't respond. She left Selene on read, a punishment far worse than shouting.
Because silence meant she was done explaining.
Selene wasn't used to chasing.
But this wasn't a contract or a merger. This was Ava.
And for the first time in Selene's perfectly ordered, ruthless life—she realized power didn't mean anything without someone to share it with.
Monday Morning
Ava stepped into the PR office, heels clicking against the polished floor. She was wearing that white silk blouse Selene loved—the one that hugged her curves, confident, soft but commanding.
Her co-workers turned to greet her with cheerful good mornings. She smiled, said her hellos, and kept walking—calm, composed, and unbothered.
But inside?
She wasn't numb.
She just couldn't afford to be vulnerable anymore—not with Selene.
The woman she loved had played with her heart like a toy. Controlled her like an employee. Used sex as a reward. And worst of all—Selene thought Ava would always be there waiting.
She wasn't.
Not anymore.
Selene, meanwhile…
...was unraveling.
She hadn't been eating. Barely sleeping. And it was showing—only in the smallest ways.
Missed lines in meetings.
Late arrivals.
A sharp edge creeping back into her voice.
Her assistant noticed it. The Board noticed it. Even the HR Director subtly suggested she take a long weekend.
But Selene wasn't listening.
She couldn't.
She was too busy staring at Ava's last text:
"I deserve better. And I'm starting to believe I can have it."
Wednesday Night – Charity Dinner
Selene knew Ava would be there.
It was one of Ava's pet projects—raising funds for young women's education. She'd designed the campaign herself. Selene had funded it.
And now?
Selene showed up not to own the room—but to see her.
When Ava arrived, the crowd practically lit up.
She wore red.
Deep, velvet red.
Her hair was up, lips glossed, and her presence magnetic. Even the women who usually fawned over Selene turned to look at her.
Ava.
Unattached. Untouchable. Unapologetic.
Selene watched from across the room, every inch of her skin aching for contact. But she didn't dare approach—not yet. Not when Ava was shining in her independence.
An Hour Later
Selene finally walked over.
"May I speak to you?" she asked, her voice low.
Ava didn't turn. She sipped her wine. "Depends. Are you speaking as my boss or as the woman who left me standing in the dark?"
Selene flinched. "I'm speaking as someone who's losing sleep because I can't stop thinking about you."
Ava looked at her then, slowly. "You had me. All of me. And you kept choosing control."
"I was afraid," Selene confessed. "Of how much I needed you. Of what it meant to not be the one in charge."
Ava raised an eyebrow. "You still don't get it."
Selene blinked.
"You never needed to be in charge, Selene. You just needed to be honest."
The silence between them was heavy.
Selene reached for her hand, cautiously.
But Ava pulled back. "No."
"Ava—"
"No," she repeated, firmer this time. "You don't get to want me now that I'm done begging."
And she walked away.
Again.
Leaving Selene surrounded by admirers, champagne, money—and none of it mattered.
Because the one thing she really wanted had just slipped through her fingers.
Later That Night
Selene sat alone in her office, staring out the window at the city she once ruled like a queen.
Now?
It just felt empty.
Her phone buzzed once.
She lunged for it.
New Message – Ava
> "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just need to protect myself. Please stop showing up unless you're ready to really show up. Not as my boss. Not as a lover. Just as someone who actually knows how to care."
Selene didn't reply right away.
She stared at the message for a long time.
Then… finally…
She opened a blank email.
She didn't write anything cold. Nothing calculated. No press release formatting. No strategies.
Just:
> Subject: I'm learning.
Ava,
I won't ask you to come back. Not yet. I'll prove it in actions, not words.
Just… don't block me. Not yet. Let me try.
– S.
She hit send.
And this time—she didn't expect an answer.
Because she had finally understood.
Ava wasn't a reward to be earned.
She was a woman to be cherished.
The next morning arrived cold and gray, a stark contrast to the fire still lingering beneath Ava's skin.
She hadn't slept much. Too many memories. Too many questions. Too many almosts.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Selene's expression from the gala—devastated, but trying to hide it beneath that CEO armor. Like always.
But Ava didn't want the armor anymore. She wanted the woman underneath it. Or not at all.
Meanwhile…
Selene stood in front of the mirror in her penthouse suite, tying her silk tie with mechanical precision.
She didn't want to go into the office. Not because of fear. Selene Sinclair didn't do fear.
But because she didn't trust herself around Ava anymore.
One touch, one look, and she'd crumble.
And she couldn't afford to crumble. Not in public. Not in front of the woman who'd turned her world inside out without ever meaning to.
---
By 10:00 AM
Selene was buried in meetings. Board presentations. Shareholder calls.
She didn't leave her office once.
And Ava noticed.
She passed by the executive floor more than once—half-tempted to knock. But didn't.
Until her phone buzzed.
Selene: The campaign figures look good. Good work.
No "hi."
No "I miss you."
Just work.
Just like old times.
Except this time, Ava was done playing nice.
Ava's Response:
Thank you. You can send all future messages through Charles. I'm requesting to be reassigned under a new executive.
She hit send and didn't look back.
Selene read the message three times.
Then stood up.
And walked.
Out of the office. Past her assistant. Into the elevator.
Ava was in the design room, overlooking the branding layouts.
The second Selene walked in, the air changed.
People noticed—but no one dared interrupt.
Selene didn't speak until they were alone. She closed the door.
"Reassigned?" she asked, voice low.
Ava didn't look up. "You said you'd prove it in actions, Selene. Not silence. Not avoidance."
"I was giving you space."
"Don't give me what you would want, Selene," she snapped. "Give me what I need. Or stop pretending you care."
That hit harder than any slap.
Selene took a breath. "What do you need, Ava?"
Ava turned slowly, staring her dead in the eyes.
"I need you to stop treating me like a liability to be managed. I need you to feel things and not punish me every time I make you weak."
"I've never been weak."
Ava stepped closer.
"Oh, but you have," she whispered. "That night you kissed me like you were drowning? That was weakness. That was you finally feeling everything you've spent years burying. And then you punished me for it."
Selene's jaw clenched.
Ava wasn't done.
"You think control equals love. That withholding sex equals strength. That ignoring me teaches a lesson."
She smiled, cruelly. "Well, lesson learned. I don't need you. Not if this is how you love."
Selene stepped forward, breath shaking. "Ava…"
She was going to touch her.
Ava stepped back.
"No. Don't touch me. Not until you can do it without strings."
Selene froze.
This wasn't a game anymore.
And for the first time, she wasn't winning.
Later That Night
Selene poured herself a drink. Then another.
The penthouse felt too quiet. Too big. Too cold.
There were no Ava-scented clothes in the closet. No perfume on the pillows. No soft giggles from the kitchen.
Only silence.
Her phone buzzed.
A message from Charles.
Charles: Ava's transfer request has been processed. She's now reporting to Ms. Bennett.
Selene didn't reply.
She just stared at the message until the words blurred.
Because this was real.
She had lost her.
And this time—Ava didn't look back.