Ava didn’t hesitate as she sent the message, her fingers steady against the screen. She had spent too long building herself into someone who couldn’t be threatened, and she wasn’t about to start caving now.

  The reply never came.

  Instead, the silence stretched long into the night, pressing in on her as she poured over the files Ethan had given her. The more she read, the clearer the picture became. Calloway wasn’t just a man who bent the law—he was someone who erased it entirely when it suited him. Judges, politicians, corporate executives—he owned pieces of them all. And somewhere in that tangled mess was the truth about her father.

  She closed the file, exhaling sharply, before grabbing her coat. She needed to talk to Ethan again.

  Ethan was waiting for her before she even knocked, the door already cracked open, the glow of the city behind him. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, the faintest hint of tension in his stance, though his face remained unreadable.

  "You should be sleeping," he said, voice even.

  Ava stepped inside without an invitation, her eyes scanning the room like she expected danger to be lurking in the corners. "You knew I’d come. Why?"

  He shut the door behind her with deliberate ease. "Because you don’t let things go."

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  She turned sharply to face him. "Calloway. My father. This entire mess—you’re in deeper than you’re letting on."

  Ethan studied her, his silence stretching between them. Then, he moved toward the bar, not for a drink this time, but to lean against it, watching her like he was measuring what she already knew.

  "You think I’m hiding something," he said, not a question.

  "I know you are." Her arms crossed, her stance unshaken. "And that’s the problem. I don’t trust anyone who plays both sides."

  A flicker of something passed through his expression—amusement, maybe, or something darker. "You trust me enough to be here."

  "No. I trust myself enough to be in the same room as you," she countered. "But every time I get closer to the truth, you give me just enough to keep me looking, never enough to actually see the whole picture. So tell me, Ethan—how long have you been in this game?"

  He pushed off the bar, stepping into her space. Close enough that she could feel the quiet intensity rolling off him, but not touching. Never touching. "Long enough to know that when you dig too deep, people like Calloway don’t just ruin lives. They erase them."

  She didn’t blink. "Are you warning me or threatening me?"

  His lips twitched, something like a smirk but not quite. "Neither. Just proving a point."

  "And what’s that?"

  He let the silence stretch before he finally said, "That you’re not the only one with something to lose."

  Ava hated the way her pulse reacted, the way Ethan always knew exactly which words would stick under her skin. But she didn’t break eye contact, didn’t step back.

  "No more secrets, Ethan."

  His expression didn’t change, but something shifted in his eyes. "No more secrets."

  But Ava wasn’t naive. He was lying. And for the first time, she wondered if Ethan wasn’t just protecting her—but himself too.