Ava's POV
The door stood open, and there he was Carter ..like a ghost I thought I'd buried years ago. The man who haunted my nightmares, the one whose shadow darkened every dream of a fresh start.
His smile was sharp, too perfect, like he was enjoying this enjoying the power his presence wielded over the room, over me.
Jaxon's stance shifted immediately. The easy confidence he'd carried moments before turned into something taut and lethal. His hand hovered near his side, fingers twitching as if itching for a weapon.
"Carter," Jaxon said, voice low but steady. "What the hell are you doing here?"
Carter's gaze flicked to me a look I couldn't quite read. Something between amusement and something colder, more calculating.
"Just checking in," Carter said smoothly, stepping further inside without waiting for an invitation. "Looks like you've been busy, Ava. New life, new friends."
His eyes locked on mine, like he was trying to unearth the girl I'd once been the one who'd fallen for him before she learned the truth.
I swallowed hard, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear. "What do you want?"
Carter's grin deepened. "You. Or maybe just what you represent."
Jaxon stepped forward, blocking the space between Carter and me. "You want to threaten her? Make a move, and you're done."
For a moment, Carter laughed a low, mirthless sound that sent a chill down my spine. "You think I'm afraid of you?"
Before either of them could react, the tension snapped like a live wire.
Jaxon's fist slammed into Carter's jaw, the sound sharp and brutal in the quiet room.
But Carter was quick faster than I remembered. He twisted, elbowing Jaxon hard in the ribs, a sickening crack echoing through the air.
I could only watch, heart pounding, as they grappled a blur of anger and muscle, years of hatred exploding all at once.
Then, Carter suddenly pulled back, flashing a warning smile.
"This isn't over," he spat, blood glistening on his lips. "Ava — you're tied to me in ways you don't even realize."
The words hit me like a punch.
Jaxon growled, eyes blazing. "Don't listen to him."
But Carter had already turned and strode to the door, leaving a scent of menace in his wake.
I sank onto the couch, trembling, the weight of his words pressing down on me.
"What did he mean?" I whispered.
Jaxon sat beside me, his hands warm as they clasped mine.
"Some things from your past aren't just shadows," he said quietly. "They're chains."
I looked up at him, searching his eyes.
"Chains?" I repeated, the word tasting bitter.
Jaxon nodded. "And I'm not just fighting to keep you safe from Carter. I'm fighting to keep you free."
Hours later, alone in my apartment
I tried to calm my racing mind, but Carter's words replayed endlessly.
Tied to me.
What was he talking about? How could I be tied to a man I barely wanted to remember?
My phone buzzed an unknown number.
With trembling fingers, I opened the message:
You don't know the half of it. Watch your back.
I slammed the phone down, panic bubbling beneath the surface.
Someone was watching. Waiting.
And whatever they wanted from me it wasn't just Carter.
Next day, meeting with Jaxon at his office
The sleek glass tower loomed over the city, a symbol of power and control everything Jaxon embodied.
He met me in the lobby, his tailored suit crisp, his gaze dark with unsaid threats.
"We need to figure out what Carter's really after," he said as we rode the elevator up.
I nodded, trying to summon the calm and confidence that had gotten me this far.
Inside his office, the city stretched out beneath us endless possibilities, endless danger.
"We can't let the past destroy this," Jaxon said, turning to face me. "I want you to trust me."
I met his gaze, the magnetism between us undeniable.
"I want that too," I whispered.
He stepped closer, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.
"But trust is a risk," he said, voice low.
"And sometimes risks don't pay off," I added, heart pounding.
Jaxon's lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.
"That's why I'm going to make sure this risk is worth it."
That night, back in the penthouse
The tension between us was electric raw and unfiltered.
Jaxon's touch was both a promise and a challenge, tracing the line between control and surrender.
I leaned into him, craving the fire he ignited inside me.
But even as our bodies moved together in perfect rhythm, my mind screamed warnings.
Because Carter's words tied to me lingered like poison in my veins.
And deep down, I knew the real battle was only just beginning.
Just as I was about to lose myself completely in Jaxon's arms, my phone buzzed again.
A video this time.
I pressed play.
The screen showed me entering Jaxon's penthouse earlier that day.
Then the camera panned, revealing a shadowed figure watching me from the hallway.
And then, a whispered voice crackled through the phone:
You don't know who's really controlling the game.