Chapter 2: Trust Me for Thirty Minutes
Ethan didn't move for a long moment.
Then, very quietly, he closed the dressing room door.
"Say that again," he said.
"Please, Ethan—"
"Say.
That.
Again."
I had never heard him use that voice before.
Not in boardrooms.
Not in negotiations.
Not once in eleven months.
"Andrew did this," I whispered.
"But tonight isn't the night.
There are cameras everywhere.
Senators.
Donors.
If you do something now, it destroys the hospital expansion.
Children lose funding because of me.
I can't let that happen."
Ethan stood completely still.
"How long?"
I couldn't answer.
"Ava.
How long has he been hurting you?"
"It doesn't matter—"
"It matters to me."
My throat tightened.
"Fourteen months."
Something shifted behind his eyes.
Not anger.
Something colder and far more dangerous.
He straightened his jacket.
Checked his watch.
Then looked at me one last time.
"Go downstairs.
Stand next to him.
Smile for the cameras."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Do exactly what you always do." His voice was steady.
Controlled.
"Let him believe nothing has changed."
"Ethan, what are you going to—"
"Ava." He opened the door.
"I need you to trust me for the next thirty minutes."
He walked out before I could say another word.
And somewhere below us, the applause grew louder.
---
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What Ethan did in that ballroom — and what Andrew never saw coming — is in the full story.
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