A dangerous game

The morning light had barely crept over the horizon when Ava and Kiara slipped out of the estate, seeking a brief escape from the stifling confines of the Cole mansion. No security, no bodyguards—just the two of them, determined to reclaim a fragment of freedom. Every step on the cool pavement felt like an act of rebellion.

In the cab, the urban streets—alive with honking taxis and murmuring crowds—blurred past. For a few precious hours, Ava allowed herself to breathe without the constant pressure of surveillance, to imagine a life unburdened by the relentless scrutiny at home.

Before long, they arrived at an exclusive restaurant—a hidden gem known only to the city's elite. Its sleek design, soft golden lighting, and hushed, sophisticated chatter created an ambiance that was both inviting and intimidating. They were led to a secluded booth in a quiet corner, where the world outside seemed to fade away.

Kiara leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she lowered her voice. "Ava, what exactly was Damien getting at last night? Why does he care so much if someone else talks to you?"

Ava stirred her iced tea, watching the condensation drip slowly down the glass. "I don't know, Kiara," she murmured. "He just... makes these cryptic remarks—like he's fishing for something. I keep telling myself it's just a contract marriage, but sometimes it feels too personal."

Before Kiara could probe further, the booth's door swung open and a tall, impeccably dressed man stepped in. His tailored suit and the subtle hint of expensive cologne immediately set him apart. With confident ease, he approached and slid into the seat beside Ava.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly, his eyes locking on hers with a disarming intensity. "I'm Olive. I couldn't help but notice you two. May I join you?"

Ava's heart fluttered—this was the same man from the previous encounter, whose charm had stirred something inside her. Kiara's protective gaze sharpened. "Wait a minute," Kiara interjected, voice edged with warning. "Ava, you do know you're married—to Damien Cole."

Olive's smile softened, his gaze flicking briefly to Kiara before returning to Ava. "I'm aware," he replied calmly, "but I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm simply enjoying good company—and would love to get to know you better, Ava."

Ava's mind raced; the thrill of attention warred with the burden of her reality. "I… appreciate that," she answered carefully, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.

Kiara's tone turned protective. "Listen, unless you plan on stirring up more trouble, I suggest you back off before you put her marriage in jeopardy."

Olive's eyes sparkled with a mix of challenge and sincerity. "I assure you, Kiara, I mean no harm. I'm merely here to talk—nothing more."

Ava met his gaze steadily, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Alright, Olive. I'm Ava."

Olive leaned in, his voice dropping low and sincere. "Ava, it's a pleasure. I'd truly like to learn about you—beyond just what you're known for."

Kiara's disapproving murmur barely escaped her lips: "Really, Ava? Do you think this is a game?"

Before the conversation could deepen, Olive stood abruptly, slipping a sleek business card onto the table. "If you ever want to talk more, call me," he said with a courteous nod, then melted back into the crowd of elegantly dressed patrons.

Ava picked up the card, tucking it into her purse with a thoughtful smile. "Thank you," she whispered.

Kiara leaned in, her eyes sharp. "Ava, don't fall for that nonsense. He's just trying to get under your skin."

Ava's smile grew wistful. "Maybe I am—but not so easily. I've never received this kind of attention before. It feels… special."

As the evening wound down, they left the restaurant with the freedom of anonymity intact—no security tailing them, just the cool night and the promise of a brief escape. As their cab sped away, Kiara glanced out the window. Though unseen by them, Michael—Damien's ever-vigilant bodyguard—watched silently from a distance. His eyes narrowed as he noted every detail, every lingering smile, and every brush of Olive's hand on Ava's. Without drawing attention, he recorded the encounter on his phone before sending a discreet report up the chain.

Back in the cab, Kiara leaned toward Ava, her voice a soft, urgent whisper. "Be careful, Ava. I know you like the attention, but don't let it control you. Damien isn't one to take kindly to distractions."

Ava's gaze was steady, though a trace of uncertainty flickered behind her eyes. "I know, Kiara. But tonight, I felt… alive. It's something I haven't felt in so long."

The cab merged onto busy streets, the city's neon lights blurring past as they drove into the night—leaving behind a trail of unanswered questions and rising tensions.

And somewhere in the quiet corridors of the Cole estate, Damien Cole sat in his office with a tightening grip on his glass of whiskey, his mind simmering with barely contained fury as he awaited the next move in this dangerous game.