Today is Sunday. Race day.
Half of her heart didn't want him to win. The other half was secretly excited about the promised date if he did. She had spent last night in a dilemma, debating whether to book a last-minute flight to Monaco. 'But showing up unannounced would make her look desperate, wouldn't it?'
After an hour of arguing with herself, she had given up and decided to stay home. Milo had texted her multiple times, inviting her to watch the Monaco Grand Prix live at Alessia's house, but she refused. Even Leo had called her that morning—just to tease her, as always. She ignored him too.
So, instead of thinking about the race, she painted. Locking her main door, she stepped into her secret room, put on her smock, and prepared her paints. A blank white canvas sat on the easel before her. The clock read 11:00 a.m.
By the time she was finished, it was nearly 2:30 p.m. Time had flown. She touched up a few details before grabbing her phone and texting Mr. Rodrigo:
'I have a painting for the next bid—Flotante. It'll be ready by Tuesday.'
But boredom crept in again.
The race was set to start in an hour, and she needed a distraction. An idea struck her. She called Imogen Rossi, the hotel manager of Palazzo Parigi, and asked for a key card to roam the hotel for sketching. Imogen agreed immediately.
By 3:30 p.m., after a quick shower and a light lunch, she arrived at Palazzo Parigi. As always, Imogen greeted her as if she owned the place, and so did the staff. Ava merely nodded in acknowledgment before heading upstairs.
She started from the top floor, working her way down to the lobby, taking pictures along the way. Eventually, she settled into a familiar suite—the same one where she had met with Maya and Imogen before. It was quiet,' perfect'
By 4:00 p.m., she was completely immersed in sketching, researching, lost in her own world. Then around half and hour later, the door suddenly opened.
"It's occupied," she said without looking up.
No response. Ava lifted her gaze—and froze.
Ethan.
A jolt ran through her. He stood in the doorway, watching her, his presence dominating the space. 'What is he doing here? Had he followed her here?'
She shot to her feet, heart hammering. Ethan didn't move. His eyes swept over her, unreadable, dark with something she couldn't quite place. Nearly longing look. Then, slowly, deliberately, he closed the door behind him.
Their eyes locked.
"Stop." Her voice was firm, but the slight tremor betrayed her.
"Let me say what's in my mind... please." His voice was lower now, softer, almost pleading.
The distance between them stretched—a mere six feet that felt both too much and not enough. She hesitated, then gave a small nod.
He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair before speaking. "Ava, I need to apologize… I mean, I want to apologize for everything. The way I treated you, the way I spoke to you... Clearly, I was out of line. It was so inconsiderate of me to put the blame on you for the lateness, to be so damn rude to Luca, and to let my arrogance dictate my actions and defend my ego rather than being human being." His jaw tensed, but his voice remained steady.
Then he continued, "I've spent years building this empire, convincing myself that being the best meant being the most cunning. Everybody is afraid of me, and I mistakenly thought of it as power but in fact I masked my cowardness to become empathy and be ruthless. But then you marched in... and proved me wrong."
She didn't move. Didn't even blink.
He then still continued, "When I first met you, you called my bullshit without hesitation. No one ever does that, Ava. No one challenges me. Not like you did. And I let my ego get in the way instead of realizing what was right in front of me." He exhaled sharply, stepping closer. Her pulse quickened.
"I haven't been able to sleep for the past few days. I can't think straight, I can't even eat properly, and for the first time ever I can't focus on anything—and it's all because of you." He makes another step. The air thickened between them.
"Ava. You have no idea how much you affected me so. You're in my head, you're in my veins, you're in my heartbeat and my goddamn soul, and it terrifies me so much because I don't know what to do with this feeling." he nearly whispered with his raspy voice.
Ava's breath hitched.
Now only inches separated them. His fingers then brushed against her temple, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch lingered, warmth. Sending shivers down her spine.
Then, tilting her chin up, he held her there, forcing her to meet his gaze. "I don't know where this will lead. I've never felt this way before, not like this, not this fast. But I'm sure to know one thing— that I'm willing to do anything human possible to figure it out." His voice was a hushed promise. "I'll go to any length to make sure you 're cared for, that you feel safe... that you know you're loved like no one ever did."
Her heart pounded.
Then he leaned in, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear as he whispered, "I think I've fallen for you, Ava Sinclair." A sharp breath escaped her. The moment stretched between them. Heavy. Electric.
Then—with a blink of eyes, he kissed her. Firm. Claiming. Yet impossibly tender. His hands cupped her face, fingers threading into her hair as he deepened the kiss.
She melted against him, her body pressing into his, her hands gripping the fabric of his suit as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. It felt like it was supposed to be. Passionate.
His lips moved slowly, languidly, savoring every second, every taste. And when he pulled her closer, his body flush against hers, she gasped softly against his mouth. Ethan growled lowly. "God, Ava...You're killing me" His voice was raw, desperate, as if he was barely holding himself back. His hands traveled down, one sliding around her waist, the other gripping the back of her neck. He tilted her head, deepening the kiss, teasing, exploring, making her dizzy with every stroke of his tongue.
Ava's knees nearly gave out.
Then—cheers erupted from the television.
'And it's official—Leo Vargas-Clairmont has won the
Monaco Grand Prix!'
Reality slammed back into her. She pulled away, breathless. Ethan blinked at her, his expression clouded with longing and confusion.
"We can't do this," she whispered.
His brows furrowed. "Why not? Last time I checked, you're single and you did kissed me back!"
She looked down, shaking her head. "It's not that. The kiss was... divine, but Ethan, this is too sudden. One day we were fighting and today you kissed me?"
He lifted her chin gently, forcing her to look at him. "I promise you that I'll spend my life not fighting with you and love you my beautiful Ava. We'll take our time, we'll figure it out. But I'm all in." He kissed her softly, lingering just enough to make her head spin.
Ava slowly sat down, still gripping Ethan 's hand. His eyes burned into hers, full of something that unsettled her— adoration, devotion, something more. His scent, intoxicating and warm, still clung to her, sending shivers down her spine.
A moment later, his phone buzzed. He sighed, glancing at it. "Hurm.. Something's happened at the site. I have to go, but I'll call you." He kissed her forehead before walking out.
Ava sat frozen, replaying his words.
Ethan has fallen for me?
He loves me?!
Panic shot through her as she grabbed her phone, finally noticing the flood of unread messages.
From Leo: I won, baby. I'll claim my date soon!. Can't wait.
From Milo: LEO WON!!! So… are you guys dating now? Can I meet him?! Pretty pleaseee….
From Maya: OHMAIGOD!!, I don't want to miss anything about your date!
Shit!
She stared at her phone, too stunned to speak.
She had just secured a date with Leo… and kissed Ethan on the same damn day!