The bright Tuesday morning sun streamed through the hotel windows. She woke up and glanced at Leo, still fast asleep, his face peaceful. She tried to move quietly, but suddenly, half-asleep, Leo pulled her back, pressing a brief kiss to her lips before teasing the sensitive skin of her neck. She giggled, pushing him away gently.
"Don't wake up just yet. Stay with me a little longer," he murmured, his voice hoarse and irresistibly sexy.
She smiled. "Come on, let's have breakfast. Don't forget, I have a flight at 11 AM," she reminded him.
Leo groaned before finally getting up and heading to the shower. At breakfast, she sat across from him, watching as he took a bite of his grilled chicken sandwich, mustard smearing the corner of his lips. She reached out to wipe it away with her finger, but Leo caught her hand and sucked on her fingertip, making her blush. She focused on her scrambled eggs and sausages while Leo occasionally stole bites from her fork, teasing her. A few feet away, his bodyguards stood watch. Leo had insisted on bringing them for safety, always saying, "I'm Leo, baby."
Beyond the café's glass windows, a crowd of fans gathered, waving banners and screaming his name. Paparazzi snapped photos nonstop, and it wasn't even 9 AM yet.
After finishing breakfast, they stepped outside, and the noise from his fans grew even louder. Leo stopped a few times to sign autographs and take selfies, but despite the chaos, he never let go of her hand. She kept her head down, smiling softly.
Before getting into his sprinter van, Leo turned to the crowd, waving and offering a small bow before guiding her inside. They headed to the airport—her flight to Milan was in two hours. She had pending projects at the Palazzo and color issues at Ethan 's penthouse that needed her attention.
At the terminal, Leo pulled her into a tight embrace. "Give me two days to wrap things up here, and then I'll come to Milan. I'm all yours, 24/7, for a week." He pressed a deep kiss to her lips. "I'm going to miss you so much, my love," he murmured, kissing both her palms before letting her go.
As she boarded her flight, warmth and hesitation intertwined in her chest. Two days. She just had to wait two more days. After nearly eight hours on the first-class flight to Milan, she had cycled through sleeping, waking up, eating, going to the bathroom, sketching, then sleeping again.
When the plane finally landed, Milo was there to pick her up. His smile was suspiciously smug. "What are you grinning about?" she asked, though she already had a good guess.
"So, you and Leo, huh? I knew it!" Milo said, his hands steady on the steering wheel as he drove toward her apartment. "Alessia kept saying you'd choose Ethan, but I knew it—Leo is so cool, right?"
"I didn't choose anyone. It just happened, and we're just close friends," she replied, checking her phone. Milo scoffed, and didn't believe her.
There were texts from Leo, Maya, a few suppliers, and one old, unread message from Ethan—sent last Sunday.
Ethan: Can we talk?
Leo's messages included his racing schedule. He had the Barcelona Grand Prix next, followed by a month of rest before the Budapest Grand Prix. And, of course, he had also sent a ridiculously cheesy text: "There's no way I already miss you like crazy. It's not even for a day."
She smiled to herself while Milo kept sneaking glances at her. Soon, he dropped her off at her apartment. As she climbed the stairs, the jet lag was already creeping in.
Once inside, she barely had the energy to change before collapsing onto her bed. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.
For the next two days, Ava threw herself into work mode. With Alessia handling smaller projects, Maya taking a rest day due to her morning sickness, and Milo occupied with supplier meetings, most of the workload fell on Ava.
Yesterday, she had attended meetings alone, sketched designs, discussed budgets, and ended the day with a long phone call with Leo. Today was the final approval meeting for the Palazzo project before construction could begin. Thanks to Alessia and Milo, all the necessary documents were already prepared.
Now, she just had to present them. Even though the new owner of Palazzo Parigi Hotel was Ethan, she refused to take advantage of that fact. Slacking off was never an option for her.
Inside the meeting room, Ethan sat at the table, Luca standing nearby, along with several board members who were already waiting. When she walked in, Ethan glanced up and gave her a soft smile. His eyes looked troubled, but his composure remained steady.
For the next two hours, she presented her designs and sketches. Once the meeting concluded, only Ethan, Luca, and Ava remained. Ethan then asked Luca to leave, wanting to discuss the project further. Their conversation mostly consisted of Ava giving suggestions and Ethan nodding in agreement. As she made a few additional sketches, she finally put her pen down and looked at him.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Ethan looked up, his brownish green eyes clouded with something unreadable. He nodded—again.
She moved closer and, without thinking, reached for his hand. He stiffened at first, surprised, but she held firm. "You know you can talk to me, right?" she said gently.
For a moment, he remained silent. Then, slowly, he began to speak—telling her about what had happened in Calabria when he met his birth father and his half-sisters.
Ava listened carefully, making sure not to miss a single detail. Ethan explained how he had abruptly left after speaking with his half-sisters.
"And that's why I was so surprised when that guy who harassed you claimed to be my uncle," he continued. "Apparently, they've been keeping track of me without my birth father knowing. It's what I would do, honestly, but… it still doesn't feel right." He squeezed her hand slightly.
"Thank you for listening. I've been dodging Luca because he keeps asking how I am. I just… I just can't talk about it. I'm still figuring it out, but I'm perfectly fine," he added. His grip on her hand tightened for a second before he let go. "I don't even know if I want to see them again," he admitted.
Ava hesitated before reaching up, she patted his shoulder. For a brief moment, their eyes locked. Something unspoken passed between them, an unfamiliar feeling lingering in the air—until her phone rang, breaking the moment. It was Leo.
She quickly excused herself and stepped outside to take the call. But as she listened to Leo's voice, a question gnawed at the back of her mind. 'What was that feeling just now… with Ethan?'
Leo told her he would be arriving later than expected due to an important interview with Monster Energy for his ambassador deal. She simply said, "Okay." and then Leo continued to apologize through text, She typed out a reply: "No worries! Good luck with the meeting❤" But as she stared at the text, she deleted the heart. It wasn't that she was upset—it was just… she had expected him to be here today.
After that, she returned inside. She and Ethan parted ways, knowing they'd meet again tomorrow for another meeting—this time with suppliers and contractors. It was supposed to be Milo's responsibility, but since he was so busy, she had to take over. Ethan, however, had insisted on coming along.
That night, Ava met Maya at a café near the city after a week of not being in touch. Maya hugged her before suddenly gagging.
"Excuse me, it's Portrayal by Amouage, and I even showered," Ava said, feeling offended.
"No, no, no, it's me. It's the baby. Apparently, the baby hates any kind of smell nowadays. And get this—my husband slept outside on the couch because the baby decided Raul is 24/7 smelly," Maya groaned.
Ava burst into laughter.
"It's not funny! Babies are cute. This? Not cute at all," Maya grumbled before excusing herself to use the restroom for the third time that night.
While waiting, Ava checked her phone and saw a timeline update announcing that Leo was officially the new ambassador for MonsterEnergy. She took a screenshot and sent it to him with a congratulatory message.
Just as she was about to put her phone away, she caught a glimpse of Ethan outside the café. He was alone and heading toward a club two doors down.
Then, Maya returned, looking utterly defeated. "I peed in my dress, Ava. I need to go home," she said.
Ava immediately called Raul to pick her up. Fifteen minutes later, he arrived, and before they left, Maya asked, "Are you coming? Raul can drop you off."
"No, it's okay. I'm just going to check something at that club," Ava replied.
Maya nodded before waving goodbye. Ava made her way inside the club, scanning the room for Ethan. She wandered around before spotting him at the VIP bar, drinking more than usual. She walked up to him and tapped his shoulder.
He turned, momentarily stunned. "Ava?"
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I'm drinking. I always drink. This is a drinking place. Drinking is good. Come, join me, my beautiful Ava," he slurred, his words laced with intoxication.
Ava looked at Ethan in disbelief, "You're so drunk."
"You chose him," Ethan murmured, swirling his drink. "You chose Leo....And I keep wondering… if it had been me first to confess, would you have chosen differently?"
"You're really drunk. Let's call a ride and get you home," she said, dialing on her phone.
Before she could press call, Ethan snatched the device from her hand, stumbling slightly as he stood up. He tucked the phone into his pocket and placed a finger on her lips, trying to shush her.
"No, no. I'm fine. You see? I just had a couple of drinks. It's okay," he insisted—right before suddenly sinking to the floor.
Ava tried to catch him, but he was heavier than he looked. "I'm Ethan, Ava. Not Enzo, I'm Ethan." he murmured before passing out. Sighing, she retrieved her phone from his pocket and called Luca to come pick him up. Twenty minutes later, Luca arrived, dropping Ava at her apartment before taking Ethan back to his penthouse.
The next morning, Ava woke up early and headed to the morning market. Leo was supposed to come today, but he postponed due to another meeting with Ferrari. She understood—so instead, she decided to spend her morning cooking and maybe painting. It had been a while since she worked on her art.
She made carbonara with grilled chicken and garlic bread before heading to her studio. Sitting in front of a blank canvas, she found herself unsure of what to paint. Looking around at her collection—about fifteen completed pieces—she suddenly felt the urge to let them all go and start fresh.
She texted Mr. Rodrigo and offered all fifteen paintings for sale, but he hadn't responded yet. With nothing else to do, she got ready for a meeting with suppliers and contractors.
When she arrived at the site, she was surprised to see Ethan already there—looking sharp.
"Good afternoon," he greeted her with a small smile.
"You're okay?" she asked.
He nodded, and they proceeded with back-to-back meetings—two hours with suppliers, followed by a break. While scrolling through her phone, Ava saw that Leo was dominating headlines with his latest Grand Prix win, alongside a controversial moment with another driver. The media was in a frenzy. She watched a clip of his press conference where he skillfully dodged relationship questions, making her smirk.
As she scrolled through the article, she stumbled upon a rumored timeline that showed one of Leo's past flings appearing in the paddock. It made her stomach twisted. It wasn't jealousy—was it? She trusted Leo, but trust didn't erase the nagging thought of whether she truly belonged in his world, and she wasn't the type to cause unnecessary drama.
As she scrolled more, a comment caught her attention. "Who is the mystery woman Leo's been holding hands with?" Her heart skipped. She wasn't just Ava anymore— she was Leo Vargas-Clairmont's girlfriend. 'Was she ready for that?'
Ethan, noticing her expression, teased, "Your boyfriend is practically a rockstar now."
Ava brushed off his comment, but deep down, a thought lingered—'Can I really keep up with his world?'
After wrapping up a series of intense client meetings, Ethan and Ava made their way back to her studio. The mood had shifted from formal to focused as they slipped into work mode. Alessia and Milo, swamped with two high-priority design projects, had cordoned themselves off in the materials room, leaving Ava and Ethan alone to tackle the sprawling Palazzo project.
Papers were spread across the long oak table, the soft hum of the city outside providing background noise to their concentrated silence. Ava leaned over a rendering, her pencil moving swiftly—until her phone buzzed against the wood. The number was unfamiliar, but the country code was unmistakable. Nice. Curious, she answered. Ethan glanced up briefly, reading her face.
Five minutes later, she ended the call—slower than usual, her hand lowering the phone like it weighed more than it should. Her expression had dimmed, eyes shadowed with concern.
Ethan 's brow furrowed. "What happened?"
She hesitated, her voice quiet. "My house in Nice was broken into. The police need me to come down and give a statement."
There was a pause. Ethan sat up straighter. "I'll take you."
"You don't have to," she began, instinctively brushing it off.
"I want to," he replied, firm but gentle. "Tomorrow?" Ava wavered, uncertainty flickering in her eyes, but Ethan didn't back down. He waited, unwavering.
Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, she nodded. "Fine. But only because I need someone who speaks decent French and can stop me from throttling a detective if they ask me the same question ten times."
He smiled faintly. "Happy to provide translation and be your anger management."
The moment passed. They went back to work, fingers dancing over designs, rearranging concepts, fighting over color schemes—but the heaviness lingered beneath the surface.
Then, the doorbell rang. It was unusual. Her office rarely received visitors unannounced. The three of them exchanged a look.
"I got it," Milo said, standing up.
Ava called after him, distracted, "Who is it?"
No reply.
Seconds passed. Too many. "Milo?" she asked again, louder. Still no answer. She turned…. and froze.
Standing at the entrance to the design studio, like a scene pulled from a dramatic movie, was Leo Vargas-Clairmont. Dressed in tailored navy, hair tousled perfectly, holding an extravagant bouquet of crimson roses.
"Surprise," he said with a wide grin.
But then his gaze slid past her—landing on the man seated beside her. His smile faltered. Ethan looked up slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly.
Ava's throat dried. She stood, moving quickly between them, like a buffer. "Babe, this is Ethan—my client, sort of the boss for this project… and also my friend. Ethan, this is—"
Leo stepped forward, eyes never leaving Ethan 's. "The boyfriend. Leo Vargas-Clairmont. Nice to finally meet you." He extended his hand. Ethan stood, met his grip. Neither man flinched.
The air thickened.
Ava felt her stomach twist."How about we all grab dinner?" she blurted, her tone far too cheerful to be natural. "You know, celebrate the fact that none of us killed anyone in the studio today?"
Alessia, already pulling her coat on, clapped. "I love that idea. I'm starving."
Milo nodded, clearly amused. "Can't miss this."
But Leo and Ethan remained in a silent standoff. Even at dinner, the tension was palpable. While Alessia and Milo laughed over appetizers and wine, Leo and Ethan were busy competing over who would sit next to Ava—without saying a word.
When Leo pulled a chair out beside her, Ethan smoothly claimed the other. Ava, with a tight smile, plopped herself right in the middle before either could speak. Alessia exchanged a knowing glance with Milo.
"I have to show Maya this," she whispered, snapping a discreet photo of the seating arrangement like it was a wildlife documentary.
Dessert came. Ava ordered pavlova and chocolate moist cake, trying to pretend everything was fine. But the moment she took a bite, Ethan broke the calm.
"So, what time should we leave tomorrow?" Ethan popped the question.
Leo blinked. "Leave where?"
"To Nice," Ethan replied smoothly. "Ava's house was broken into. She needs to give a police statement."
Leo's expression hardened. "And you 're the one taking her?"
"She already agreed," Ethan said with a shrug. "Besides, I speak the language and I'm familiar with the area."
Leo leaned back in his chair, voice quieter but edged with steel. "I can take her. I'm her boyfriend. I knew Nice too, It's my place."
Ethan tilted his head. "You don't even know where Rue de Lorraine is. Plus, there's no race in Nice this weekend, so…" The implication was clear.
Leo put down his fork, jaw tight. "Doesn't mean I'm not going."
"Pretty sure it does." Ethan not backing down. They went back and forth, voices low but sharp.
Ava chewed her dessert in silence, her fingers tightening around the fork. After ten minutes of bickering, she cleared her throat. Loudly. Both men stopped, mid-sentence, turning toward her. "You know what?" she said flatly. "I'm not going with either of you. I'll book my own flight. Alone." She stood, grabbed her bag, and headed for the cashier.
Ethan followed, looking pained. "Ava, come on. I just want to make sure you 're okay."
Leo came up on her other side. "Babe, I should be the one with you."
And just like that, they were at it again. She spun around. "Enough! Leo, I expected this kind of jealousy from you—but Ethan? Really? Why are you even feeding into this?" They both fell silent. "I'm going to Nice. Alone. I'll be on the first flight out in the morning. Goodbye and have a nice night to both of you.." She stormed out, leaving both men behind—two grown men with fists clenched and expressions unreadable, standing on the curb like schoolboys caught in a fight.
The next morning, Ava barely slept. She booked the earliest flight she could find, cursing the peak price but too exhausted to care. At the airport, she avoided coffee, avoided the news, and avoided thinking too hard. 'Just get to Nice. Give the statement. Check the house.'
After boarding, she slipped into her seat—middle row, of course—and leaned back with a sigh. Then she sensed it. A familiar scent. A familiar presence. She opened her eyes.
Leo, to her right.
Ethan, to her left.
"What the actual hell," she hissed, voice low as she leaned forward. "Are you both stalking me?"
Leo smirked. "We're just coming with you. For support."
Ethan raised a brow. "Economy class support, apparently."
Passengers around them murmured—recognizing Leo. Someone took a picture. At that moment, Ava really wanted to disappear.
The three-hour flight was long. Painfully long. Sandwiched between two brooding men who wouldn't stop trading cryptic comments and smug glances.
At one point, Ethan murmured, "Not everything has to be a competition."
Leo shot back without looking at him. "Are you sure about that?"
Ava stared straight ahead, jaw clenched.
—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Nice, France
The police station in Nice was sterile, gray, and tense. Ava gave her statement while Ethan translated and Leo loomed protectively nearby. They spoke to the officer in charge, who confirmed that nothing was taken—but someone had definitely gone through her belongings.
There were no signs of forced entry. "Whoever did this," the officer said, "had a key. Or knew how to get in without one." That chilled her more than a shattered window ever could.
At the house, Ava moved slowly through the rooms. Everything looked... normal. Too normal.
Until she reached her bedroom. There, on her nightstand, sat an object that shouldn't have been there.
A photograph.
Old, sun-worn, edges curling.
She picked it up, staring.
It was of her, maybe twelve or thirteen. Taken right here in Nice. She hadn't seen it in years. Hadn't brought it with her. She felt the hairs on her neck stand up.
From outside, a low engine growled. A car, idling across the street. She turned slowly. Just a silhouette behind the windshield. Her pulse quickened.
Ethan appeared beside her, eyes narrowing as he followed her gaze. "Ava… are you sure this was just a break-in?"
Leo was already at the window, tension radiating off him. "Someone's watching the house."
Ava stepped back, heart racing. She clutched the photo. Something was wrong. This wasn't random. Might be personal.
Her past was bleeding into her present—and she had no idea how much danger she was really in.