The scandal should have been enough. Ava thought she’d already hit the bottom when her face appeared on every screen, every gossip blog, every late-night headline.
But the real fall came days later.
She was curled up on the sofa in Dominic’s penthouse, wearing one of his shirts, when her phone buzzed again. Dominic had forbidden her from answering calls—he wanted her cut off, safe in his fortress—but this time curiosity won. She glanced down at the caller ID, and her stomach dropped.
Ethan.
Her ex. The man who had once promised her forever, then shattered her trust by sleeping with her best friend behind her back.
Her thumb hovered over the decline button, but the phone buzzed again. And again. And then the texts poured in.
Pick up. We need to talk.
You’re making a fool of yourself.
