Chapter 3: The Edge of Trust

Ava kept her face deadpan as Roman leaned comfortably against the marble counter of his penthouse. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, his tie lost somewhere in the slick, modern space. She wasn’t sure if the relaxed look was intended or if it indicated he’d finally let his guard down. Either way, it irritated her.

“Talk,” she said, crossing her arms. “I don’t have time for games.”

“It's all business for you, isn't it?” Roman said, pouring a glass of whiskey. He didn’t offer her one, and she didn’t ask. “But I think we both know this isn’t just business anymore.”

She didn’t flinch. “Don’t mistake my interest in your case for anything else.”

Roman’s giving a gentle smile took a sip from his drink while watching her. “You’re good at keeping people at arm’s length. I bet it works most of the time. But not with me.”

Ava took a step forward, her heels tapping sharply on the floor. “You don’t know me well enough to make assumptions, so I'd suggest you don't do that.”

His eyes moved to hers, holding it with maddening ease. “I know you’re the kind of woman who can’t stand being wrong. And you’re here because part of you feels I might not be lying and that terrifies you, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t answer.

Roman lowered his glass down. “Alright. Let’s focus on what brought you here.” He moved toward the files scattered across the counter. “You’ve seen enough to know this isn’t some petty grudge. Evelyn didn’t only ruin my father—she built her company on the ashes of his. And I’m not going to let her get away with it.”

Ava flipped open one of the files, her eyes searching the documents. They were thorough, carefully organised. Too cautious. She looked up.

“Who helped you with this?”

The look on his face didn’t shift. “Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does.”

Roman sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I have people who believe in my vision. Let’s leave it at that.”

Her jaw tightened. “And what is this your vision, exactly? Because right now, it looks like you’re using me to settle a beef with my mother. If you want me to trust you, you’re going to have to do more than cryptic responses and dramatic accusations.”

He walked closer, his steps slow and intentional. “I don’t want your trust, Ava. I want your skill. And, whether you admit it or not, you want to tear her down just as much as I do.”

Ava’s breath caught, the words hitting a nerve she didn’t want to recognise. Roman didn’t look triumphant. He seemed... weary.

“You don’t know what I want,” she replied, her voice softer now.

Roman reached out, his palm touching hers as he flipped one of the pages in the file. His touch was soft, yet it remained setting off something she couldn’t quite ignore.

“You want freedom,” he replied, his voice lower. “From her shadow. From the part of you that wonders if you’re more like her than you want to admit.”

Ava pulled her hand back. “Don’t psychoanalyze me.”

He laughed, the sound deep and low. “It’s not psychoanalyzing. It’s recognizing someone who’s just as stubborn as I am.”

They worked late into the night, piecing together the maze of agreements and betrayals that related Evelyn Sinclair to Roman’s past. Ava couldn’t refute his insight, but she kept her guard up, refusing to allow his appeal distract her from the task at hand.

At one point, Roman sat back in his chair, watching her as she flipped through another stack of papers.

“Do you ever stop?” he said.

“Do you?” she shot back without looking up.

“I try to.” The way he spoke had an edge of something she couldn’t quite place. Regret, maybe.

When she didn’t react, he asked, “Do you know why I picked you, Ava?”

She laid the papers down. “Because you think I can beat her.”

“That’s part of it.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “But it’s also because you don’t take sides easily. You look for the truth, even when it’s messy. I respect that.”

Ava maintained his gaze, searching for the fractures in his glossy shell. There were many, but none that gave her what she was seeking for.

“You’re a difficult man to believe,” she responded finally.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

By the time Ava left his penthouse, the city was quiet. She leaned against her car, her mind whirling. Roman had given her more than enough to doubt her mother’s innocence, but it wasn’t enough to trust him fully.

Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. Evelyn’s name showed on the screen. Ava hesitated before answering.

“You’ve been busy,” Evelyn said, her tone bitter.

“Why are you keeping tabs on me?”

“Because you’re making a mistake.”

Ava clinched her jaw. “I’m doing my job.”

“Your job doesn’t involve indulging yourself in the delusions of a man who is only  desperate for revenge.” Evelyn’s voice hardened. “If you keep going down this path, I won’t protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” Ava asked raising her voice.

“From yourself,” Evelyn said, her words firm. “You’re blinded by the opportunity to prove me wrong. But all you’re doing is proving you’re reckless. Roman Devereux will ruin you, Ava. Just like his father ruined himself.”

Evelyn hung up before Ava were able to respond

The next day, Ava sat in her office, the weight of the talk still pressing on her. Clara entered, holding a tablet.

“You need to see this,” Clara said, setting it on Ava’s desk.

The screen showed a news story with Ava’s name in bold characters. The headline accused her of dishonesty in a previous case, stating she had concealed evidence. It was a lie, but a slanderous one.

“Who released this?” Ava asked, her voice frigid.

“Victor Malone,” Clara said.

Ava’s stomach churned.

Her phone buzzed again. This time, it was Roman.

“Malone’s playing dirty,” he said when she answered. “I can handle it.”

“I don’t need you to handle my problems,” Ava yelled.

Roman’s voice was calm. “This isn’t just your problem anymore. It’s ours.”

Ava glanced at the tablet, her rage seething. “Then we fight back. Together.”