Ava didn't answer Zach—not because she didn't want to, but because her entire brain had just pulled the emergency brakes and evacuated the building.
It wasn't guilt. Not entirely, anyway.
She and Zach had a deal. A very informal, painfully vague, and morally questionable deal to keep an eye on Shen Wang something like that—a task that sounded straightforward until one actually spent time with the man.
Somehow, despite her allegedly sharp instincts and near-militant sense of self-discipline, Ava had managed to not report a single thing about her encounters with Shen. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Not even a casual "He bought another tiger-print silk shirt today and winked at the barista."
To her credit—and Ava would absolutely defend this in court—Shen never discussed anything shady with her. No sinister monologues, no evil laughter while adjusting his cufflinks, no hacking-into-Zach's-business confessions while sipping tea and whispering "By the way, Ava, I've stolen his company."
