The next morning, Ava stood outside the door to Lucien's recovery suite, her hand resting lightly on the silver handle. Her uniform was freshly pressed, hair neatly pinned, expression calm, but inside, her nerves were fraying like a threadbare rope.
She had planned to resign today. Disappear again. It was the only way to protect herself and her son from the chaos that would erupt if Lucien's powerful family found out the truth.
But fate, once again, had other plans.
The door opened from the inside before she could knock.
Lucien stood there, fully awake, sharp in a gray silk robe, arms crossed. There was a cold fire in his eyes now, he looked more like the man she had once fallen for. Cold, calculating, powerful.
"You," he said, his voice low and precise. "Come in."
Ava lowered her eyes, stepping inside. "Yes, Mr. Blackwell?"
"I've been asking around," he said, walking slowly toward her. "Apparently, you were the only staff member who stayed by my side the entire time I was in a coma."
She hesitated. "It was my job, sir."
"No," he said, narrowing his gaze. "That's loyalty. And I don't trust anyone in this house. Not anymore."
Her chest tightened. "I'm sorry you feel that way."
"I don't want your pity," he snapped. Then after a beat, he added, "I want your presence."
Ava blinked. "Sir?"
Lucien turned away and picked up a file from the bedside table. "Effective immediately, I'm assigning you as my live-in personal assistant and private nurse. You'll attend to me directly. Full access, full discretion."
She paled. "That's… not necessary, sir. There are many others who"
"I didn't ask for others," he interrupted, turning back to her. "I asked for you."
There it was, the trap she couldn't avoid. If she refused, suspicion would rise. If she accepted, she risked unraveling everything she'd tried to hide.
Ava forced herself to breathe.
"As you wish, Mr. Blackwell."
He stepped closer, eyes searching her face. "You're not like the others. I can't explain it, but… I trust you."
The words were a dagger. Trust. The very thing she could never fully give him again.
She dipped her head. "Thank you, sir."
Lucien's voice dropped. "What's your name?"
"Ava."
Just Ava. No last name. No Monroe. No Mrs. Blackwell.
He held her gaze. "Ava... You don't talk much, do you?"
"Only when spoken to."
Lucien chuckled darkly. "I might like that."
He turned away, but not before Ava saw it, something flickering in his expression. Curiosity. Recognition. Maybe even... attraction.
Her heart pounded. This was dangerous. Too dangerous.
She needed to leave. To hide. To run.
But instead, she stood there in silence, wondering how long she could survive in a mansion filled with secrets, lies, and the man who used to love her... before forgetting she ever existed.