Ava – That Evening
The soft glow of sunset spilled across the walls of Ava's new apartment.
It wasn't too big, not too small—just perfect. A two-bedroom, one-hall layout with a spacious terrace nestled in a high-end society. She knew the rent should've cost a fortune, yet it had come neatly under budget. Leah's quiet intervention, no doubt.
Ava smiled faintly as she leaned on the terrace railing, letting the evening breeze tangle her hair. The terrace was her favorite part. Wide, open, kissed with sunlight—it gave her space to breathe, to grow things. A few pots already lined the edge, and she had plans to fill it with soft vines, herbs, maybe even a lemon tree.
Inside, the apartment radiated warmth. Minimalist furniture. Clean lines. Soft throws and sunlight-colored curtains. It felt like a home—not temporary, not too polished. A cozy kind of permanence.
She glanced toward her phone on the kitchen counter. The notification blinked again.
Vale Conglomerate: You are selected. Start date – Monday.
A flutter of nerves stirred in her chest. ValeTech. Not just any company—a direct rival to her brother's.
He'd absolutely throw a fit if he knew. But it wasn't about him. It was about her. Her decision. Her life.
She walked back inside and collapsed on the sofa, arms flung over her head.
Her brother's words from their call last night replayed in her head.
"Someone's been trying to dig into you I have managed here so nothing to worry but you take care of yourself ."
She frowned.
Who would be looking into me?
She hadn't made waves here. She'd kept her head down. Her name clean. Her records... clear.
Her thoughts wandered to him—the man from the club. The one who'd tied her to a chair, then let her go with a cryptic stare.
Her jaw tensed.
Could it be related?
She shook her head and sat up, brushing her hair over one shoulder. "We'll see what happens," she muttered, exhaling slowly.
Then she headed to bed early.
Monday would come fast. And she had no idea what storm it might bring.
Dominic – That Same Night
The villa was quiet.
Dominic sat behind his desk in his private study, the only light coming from the sleek lamp overhead. The room reflected him—gray with soft blue undertones, modern but stripped of excess. Minimalist. Controlled.
Like him.
His laptop hummed as he typed, eyes fixed on a strategic overview of his recent acquisitions. His fingers didn't slow even as a knock came at the door.
"Come in."
James stepped in, his expression unreadable as always, but something in the way he carried the file said this wasn't routine.
"There's an issue, sir," he began.
Dominic didn't look up. "Which report?"
"Miss Ava Ellis."
That got his attention.
He paused mid-keystroke. "What kind of issue?"
James approached the desk and placed a thin folder down. "It's… difficult to explain. On paper, there's no issue. She passes all background checks, degrees, and certifications."
"But?"
James's tone lowered a fraction. "There's... nothing before ten years ago. No digital trail. No family presence online. No childhood mentions. Even her school records appear… refreshed."
Dominic raised an eyebrow.
"No social media, either. Not even old deleted accounts," James added. "It's like she just—appeared."
"We tried to dig more into it but met with an end."
Silence stretched.
Then Dominic let out a short, amused chuckle. "Now that… is interesting."
He leaned back in his chair, eyes gleaming in the low light.
"Alright. You can go home, James. I'll look into this myself."
James nodded, bowed slightly, and slipped out.
Left alone, Dominic sat still for a while, his fingers tapping lightly on the desk.
A woman with no past. Who stood unflinching after being abducted. Who challenged him with her eyes and walked away like she hadn't shaken something loose in him.
He pulled her file toward him again and stared at the image clipped to the corner.
"Who are you really, Miss Ellis?"
Dominic muttered to himself as he leaned back in his chair, the soft glow of his screen casting a faint blue across his face.
He opened the encrypted archive software only a handful of people in the country had access to. With a few keystrokes, he dragged her image into a visual-matching protocol linked to classified databases—some legal, some… not so much.
The loading bar crept slowly.
He stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, staring at the city skyline. His jaw flexed.
A woman with no history is always either hiding something or being protected from something.
The soft chime of a completed scan drew him back.
[MATCH FOUND: Access Restricted]
Dominic's eyes narrowed. The screen displayed a blurred black-and-white surveillance image—over a decade old. A younger girl in a crowd, face half-turned.
File Status: Sealed. Access Level Insufficient.
That shouldn't have been possible.
Not with his reach.
He stared at the screen, then let out a breathless chuckle.
Not of humor—but something far more curious.
"Seems like you're not just hiding," he murmured, voice low. "You're meant to be hidden."