Chapter 2: The Power Play

Ava tightened her grasp on her phone as she looked at the blank wall of her office. Roman’s voice on the other end had been calm, maddeningly so.

“Good decision, Ms. Sinclair,” he had said, his tone carrying the smallest tinge of amusement.

“It wasn’t a decision,” she yelled, pacing the length of her office. “You’ve made accusations without evidence. If you’re wasting my time, I’ll walk.”

His reply was a single word: “Understood.”

Now, she sat at her desk, going over the preliminary papers on his case. The allegations made against Roman were damning, yet something about them didn’t sit right. The evidence was too tidy, too convenient. Yet every time she tried to pull together a different narrative, her imagination hooked on his arrogance.

And the call from her mother.

Evelyn Sinclair rarely phoned Ava for anything more than a deliberate warning or a barely veiled assessment. Her words, abrupt and gnawing as ever, lingered in Ava’s ears: “Stay away from him.”

A knock at her door pulled her back. Clara stepped in, holding a thick manila envelope.

“This just arrived,” Clara said, setting it down. “From Devereux.”

Ava frowned. “Delivered by hand?”

“By someone who didn’t wait for a signature,” Clara added, her tone hesitant.

When Clara left, Ava tore the envelope open. Inside was a single thumb drive and a handwritten note.

“For your eyes only. —Roman.”

She paused. Her instincts cautioned her not to trust him, but curiosity overrode caution. Plugging the drive into her laptop, she opened the first file.

It was a sequence of emails, backdated five years. At first sight, they were harmless polite exchanges between board members of a now-defunct tech startup. But the more closely she read, the more uncomfortable the patterns got. The emails hinted to internal sabotage, a purposeful destabilization of the company from inside. And at the center of it all: Evelyn Sinclair.

Ava stared at the screen with her throat tightening.

Another file included scanned copies of contracts—legal, binding, and all tracing back to Evelyn’s fingerprints. The dates mirrored the downfall of Roman’s father’s company. The timing was shocking, but it didn’t show guilt. Ava needed more.

Her phone buzzed. Roman.

“You found it,” he said without greetings.

“You’ve given me breadcrumbs, not proof,” Ava answered, swiveling her chair to face the window. “Emails don’t prove your innocence.”

“They prove I have a case,” he said. “And if you want more, I’ll give it to you. But not over the phone.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Not as much as you think.”

She stopped the call, her frustration boiling.

Later that evening, Ava found herself in the corner booth of an expensive bar. Roman sat across from her, nursing a whiskey he barely touched.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she added, leaning forward.

Roman’s stare didn’t waver. “So are you.”

“You think dragging me into this will somehow vindicate you?”

He shrugged, the picture of nonchalance. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Not for you,” she shot back. “For the truth.”

Roman smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Then we’re on the same page. Because the truth is, your mother buried my father’s firm. She stole his trademarks, separated his board, and left him to take the fall for her crimes. He died penniless while Evelyn built her empire.”

Ava didn’t flinch, but her chest constricted.

“And now?” she questioned.

“Now I want justice.”

“Justice or revenge?”

Roman’s expression stiffened. “Does it matter?”

By the time Ava left the bar, her mind was whirling. Roman’s claims were strong, yet his cool delivery made them impossible to deny. He was too confident of himself, too prepared.

Her phone buzzed as she walked inside her car. It was Clara.

“Sorry to bother you, but Evelyn’s office just called. She’s in the building.”

Ava’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

Evelyn Sinclair waited in Ava’s office, seated on the edge of the leather sofa like a queen on her throne.

“I see Roman has wasted no time,” Evelyn added, her tone harsh.

Ava dropped her bags on the desk. “What are you doing here?”

“Protecting you from making a mistake.”

Evelyn’s presence always came with a chill, the weight of her displeasure settling all over the room. But this time, Ava stood her ground.

“Why would you care?” Ava asked.

“Because Roman Devereux is poison,” Evelyn said. “He’s not interested in justice. He’s interested in chaos. And he’ll take you down with him.”

“Funny,” Ava replied, folding her arms. “That’s exactly what he said about you.”

Evelyn’s expression didn’t change. Her façade of calm was impenetrable.

“Stay away from him, Ava. That’s not a request. It’s advice.” Evelyn rose, straightening her fitted jacket. “You have a bright future ahead of you. Don’t waste it on someone who isn’t worth your time.”

As Evelyn went, Ava felt the walls of her carefully crafted life begin to shift.

Back at home, Ava went over the evidence Roman had given her. The emails, contracts, and financial statements portrayed a picture of deliberate destruction. Evelyn’s name was in every area, her influence evident.

But Roman’s story still had flaws.

She looked at her phone, Roman’s number glowing on the screen.

Her thumb hovered over the call button, hesitating.

Then she dialed.

When he picked up, her voice was steady. “I’m in. But if you’re lying to me, Roman, I’ll bury you myself.”

Roman’s laughter was quiet but deliberate. “Ava, you’re the last person I’d lie to. Now let me show you how deep this goes.”