The silence that followed the meeting was stronger than the argument that had just filled the room.
Maddie was still perched on the couch, arms crossed, glaring at him like he'd just kicked a puppy.The resemblance to her mother was sharper when she was angry,the same narrowed eyes, the same tilt of the chin. But Maddie's stubbornness was all her own. Ethan stood by the bar cart, staring into the half-empty tumbler in his hand. He wasn't even sure why he'd poured it. Whiskey was usually a comfort, a ritual after long meetings. Tonight it tasted bitter.
"You didn't have to tear her apart," Maddie said finally, breaking the silence.
Ethan didn't look at her. He swirled the amber liquid and took a slow sip, forcing his voice into that calm, clipped register that usually ended conversations. "I didn't tear her apart. I asked questions. If she can't handle scrutiny from me, she has no business handling investors."
"Dad." Maddie's voice sharpened. "You were brutal."
He turned, eyebrows arched. "The world is brutal. Better she hears it now than lose millions of someone else's money later."
But even as he said it, something in him ached. He had been harsh on Ava, more than necessary. And not because she was incompetent, despite her shaky numbers and optimistic projections. No. He felt something when she lifted her eyes to meet him across the table. A flutter in his chest. A reminder he hadn't asked for or wanted.
Attraction.
And that, more than her business plan, had irritated him.
Maddie wasn't letting it go. She sprang up from the couch, stalking toward him. "She's talented, Dad. She just needs someone to believe in her."
"Talent isn't enough," Ethan snapped. "I've seen dozens of bright-eyed designers crash and burn. Investors lose everything. Talent doesn't repay debt when the dream collapses."
Maddie flinched but lifted her chin stubbornly. "You didn't even give her a chance. You made up your mind before she opened her mouth."
Ethan lowered his glass with a quiet thud."Enough, Madison." His tone carried the weight of finality, but inside, her words stung. Because she wasn't entirely wrong.
He had made up his mind. Not just because Ava reminded him of every reckless dreamer he'd had to turn away, but because she'd unsettled him. The graceful way she handled herself under fire, the faint tremor in her voice that never cracked into collapse,it had pulled at something buried deep, something he'd spent years locking away.
And that was unacceptable.
He dismissed Maddie with a curt nod toward the stairs. "Go to your room. We'll revisit this another time."
She opened her mouth like she wanted to argue, then shut it again, muttering under her breath as she stormed off. The sound of her door slamming upstairs echoed in the silence.
Ethan exhaled, alone again. He loosened his tie, tugged it off, and carried his glass into his study. The study smelled of leather and old paper, of late nights spent burying himself in work. He sat heavily in the chair, sinking back as memory clawed its way up.
Vanessa's laugh,the first time he'd heard it, light and genuine, before it had curdled into poison.
The nights she used to kiss him good luck before board meetings.
The way she'd looked at him across a crowded room, a glance that had once been enough to anchor him.
For years, he had prided himself on control,on being the man who never let emotions blur business. And yet here he was, rattled by one meeting with a young woman whose designs probably wouldn't last a year in a saturated market.
But his mind betrayed him anyway. Against his will, it conjured the curve of her lips when she defended her work, the stubborn spark in her eyes when he'd pressed her too far.
He cursed under his breath and shoved the image away.
And then, because the universe thrived on cruelty, his phone buzzed. Ryan.
Ethan considered ignoring it but swiped to answer. "What is it?"
"Relax, boss," Ryan's voice drawled through the line. "Just wanted to confirm tomorrow's breakfast with the Dubai partners."
"Fine. Seven-thirty. What else?"
There was a pause. Then Ryan, far too amused: "You sound… distracted. What happened? Did someone actually manage to rattle the great Ethan Hayes?"
Ethan's jaw flexed. "No one got under my skin. Focus on the contracts."
Ryan chuckled. "Right. Sure. Because your voice definitely doesn't sound like a man who just spent an hour wrestling with someone he couldn't control."
Ethan pinched the bridge of his nose. "Do you have a point, or are you calling to waste my time?"
"Only this…" Ryan's grin was audible. "You've been uptight for years. Maybe what you need isn't another deal. Maybe you need to go to the club or the bar or even a party."
"Goodbye, Ryan." Ethan ended the call before his assistant could say more.
He stared at the phone in his hand, his irritation simmering,not at Ryan, but at the fact that the man wasn't entirely wrong. His last real intimacy had been years ago, long before Vanessa's betrayal had burned the concept of trust to ash. Since then, it had been surface-level encounters, transactional at best, and even those had become rare.
He didn't desire anymore. He didn't want it. It was messy, dangerous. A distraction.
And yet,his pulse had betrayed him tonight.
He shoved to his feet, pacing the study, but his eyes snagged on the slim portfolio Maddie had left on his desk. Ava's portfolio. He should have tossed it aside. Instead, he sat back down and flipped it open.
The sketches were bold. Risky. At first glance, it is impractical for mainstream buyers. But then… he looked closer. Each piece had detail that spoke of an eye trained not just on fashion but on character. The cuts were daring but wearable, the flow balanced by structure.
He traced a finger over one sketch without realizing it. He could almost hear Ava's voice again,low, nervous, but firm when she spoke about her vision. She wasn't just playing at being a designer. She believed.
And damn it, for a split second, so did he.
Ethan snapped the folder shut, shoving it away as if it burned.
No.
He wouldn't do this. He wouldn't let some wide-eyed dreamer stir feelings he had buried with Vanessa's betrayal. He wouldn't let attraction cloud his judgment, not again.
If he worked with Ava Collins, if he let her into his company, he knew what would happen. Her ambition, her fire, her beauty,they'd carve cracks into his armor. And cracks led to chaos.
Ethan leaned back in his chair, whiskey glass abandoned, fists tight on the armrests. His reflection stared back at him from the window: hard, controlled, unyielding.
"She's trouble," he muttered under his breath.
Not because her business was weak.
Because he wanted her.
And that was reason enough to stay the hell away.