The Hale Estate glittered under golden chandeliers, every corner filled with guests dressed in their finest. Ava Hale stood near the marble staircase, holding a champagne glass she hadn’t touched. The charity gala was supposed to be a peaceful evening—fundraising for the community hospital, her mother had insisted. But Ava knew better. When her family hosted an event, it always ended in tension, especially if the Cross family was present.

And they were.

Her eyes landed on him immediately. Ethan Cross. Tall, sharp-eyed, with that smug expression that made her blood boil. He was standing by the piano, speaking with two investors, his voice smooth and charming. Ava hated how people seemed to lean in when he talked, as if his words were silk. She took a sharp breath and muttered, “Of course he’s here. Like a cockroach.”

“Careful, Ava,” her cousin whispered beside her. “He might hear you.”

“I hope he does,” Ava snapped, lifting her chin. “The Crosses thrive on drama. Let him enjoy a little more.”

As if fate wanted to test her patience, Ethan’s gaze flicked across the room and locked with hers. That infuriating half-smile curved his lips—the one he always wore when he knew he’d gotten under her skin. Ava turned away quickly, but her heart was already hammering. She told herself it was anger, nothing more.

Minutes later, he was at her side. “Miss Hale,” Ethan said smoothly, his tone dipped in mockery. “Always a pleasure to see you glaring at me across the room. Your eyes practically sparkle with hatred.”

Ava forced a polite smile for the guests around them. “Mr. Cross, I didn’t realize the guest list was so… inclusive. Are they letting anyone in these days?”

Gasps and muffled laughter erupted from those nearby. Ethan’s grin widened. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t take offense. You Hale women always did have a sharp tongue. Though I must admit…” He leaned closer, his voice dropping low enough that only she could hear. “…it’s quite entertaining when you aim it at me.”

Her grip tightened on her glass. She wanted to throw it in his face, but instead, she stepped forward, closing the space between them. “If you think for one second that you can ruin this night, you’re wrong. My family doesn’t crumble because of cheap insults.”

“Crumbled already, didn’t it?” Ethan murmured back, eyes glinting. “Why else would your father’s empire need constant saving?”

The words struck like a blade. Ava’s cheeks burned with fury, but before she could unleash her retort, her mother appeared, smiling nervously at the crowd. “Ava, darling, perhaps you should check on the silent auction table.”

Translation: cause no scene.

Ava set her glass down hard and brushed past Ethan, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. But his voice followed her, soft and taunting: “Until next time, princess.”

---

Later that night, away from the gala lights, Ava slipped into the garden for air. The moonlight painted the hedges silver, and the faint music from inside barely reached her ears. She pressed her palms against the cool stone railing.

Why did Ethan always manage to get under her skin? She had been trained her whole life to carry the Hale name with grace, to never let emotions win. Yet, whenever Ethan Cross was involved, her composure shattered.

She heard footsteps behind her. She spun, ready to unleash fury, but stopped when she saw him again.

“You,” she hissed.

“Me,” Ethan said, strolling casually as if he owned the place. “Don’t look so horrified. I just came for fresh air.”

“Go somewhere else. The garden isn’t big enough for both of us.”

He smirked, leaning against the railing opposite hers. “Funny, I was just thinking the same. But here we are. Rivals under the moonlight. Almost poetic.”

Ava folded her arms. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you,” he said easily, “are predictable. Always on edge when I’m around. Tell me, Ava—do you hate me because I’m a Cross, or because I remind you that you’re not as perfect as you pretend to be?”

Her breath caught, anger surging through her chest. “Stay out of my way, Ethan. I don’t have time for your games.”

“Oh, but you always make time,” he murmured, stepping closer. “Every glare, every retort—you play my game without realizing it.”

For a moment, they stood too close, eyes locked, tension thick in the air. Ava hated that her heart betrayed her with an uneven beat. She turned quickly, storming back toward the hall. “Enjoy your night alone, Cross.”

Ethan stayed behind, watching her go. His expression shifted the second she disappeared—his smirk fading into something more serious. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a slim black phone.

A quiet voice came through the line. “Status?”

“She’s fine,” Ethan said softly, his voice stripped of mockery. His eyes lingered on the doors Ava had disappeared through. “No threats tonight. I’ll keep watching.”

“Good. Stay close. She can’t know the truth yet.”

“Understood.” Ethan ended the call, sliding the phone away. For a moment, he let out a long breath, his gaze lifting to the moonlit sky.

The gala ended past midnight. Ava Hale finally slipped away from the chattering guests, her heels clicking across the marble floor as she headed toward the side entrance. The valet already had her car waiting. She sighed in relief—finally, peace.

The night air was cool, a welcome change from the suffocating ballroom. She slid into the backseat, her driver nodding politely before starting the engine. Ava leaned back, closing her eyes. The silence was bliss.

Until it wasn’t.

The car slowed earlier than expected. Ava’s brows furrowed. “Why are we stopping?” she asked.

No answer.

She opened her eyes—and froze. The man in the driver’s seat wasn’t her usual driver. His build was bulkier, his shoulders stiff. Before she could scream, a cloth pressed against her mouth. The sharp chemical smell filled her nose.

Her world tilted. Darkness swallowed her.

---

When she woke, the air was damp and cold. She blinked rapidly, her head pounding. The faint glow of a single bulb revealed cracked walls and dusty crates. Her wrists were tied behind her back, ankles bound. Panic surged through her chest.

Kidnapped.

She tugged at the ropes, but they only cut into her skin. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as footsteps echoed nearby. Ava held her breath, waiting.

The metal door creaked open.

And there he was.

Ethan Cross.

Ava’s fury ignited instantly. “You,” she spat, her voice hoarse. “What have you done? Did your family finally stoop this low?”

Ethan stopped in the doorway, equally bound, his hands tied in front of him. His lip was split, his shirt dirtied with dust. “Relax, princess,” he muttered, sinking against a crate. “I’m just as thrilled about this as you are.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Don’t play games with me. If this is some sick Cross family stunt—”

“Think again,” Ethan interrupted, his tone sharper than usual. “I got grabbed on my way home. Unless you think I volunteered to be tied up in a rat-infested warehouse with you.”

Ava’s chest heaved with anger, but doubt flickered at the edges of her thoughts. Could it be possible? She studied him carefully. His wrists were red where the rope dug in. His expression wasn’t smug or mocking, just grim.

Still, her pride refused to bend. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Hate to break it to you, Hale, but not everything revolves around our family feud. Some people out there have bigger ambitions than our little rivalry.”

Before Ava could respond, heavy boots echoed down the corridor. A group of masked men entered, rifles slung over their shoulders. One of them barked, “Keep them quiet. The boss will decide what to do.”

Ava glared at them. “Do you know who I am? My family will—”

The nearest man silenced her with a sharp shove, making her stumble against the crate. Ethan stiffened instantly, stepping forward despite the rope binding his hands. “Touch her again, and you’ll regret it.”

Ava blinked at him, startled.

The masked man sneered. “Big words from a tied-up pretty boy.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched, but he stayed quiet, his eyes burning with restrained fury. The group left, slamming the door shut.

Silence stretched between Ava and Ethan.

She finally muttered, “Why would you… defend me?”

“Because watching you mouth off and get yourself killed isn’t part of my plan,” Ethan said flatly, sinking back down. His voice was calm, but his gaze stayed fixed on the door as if memorizing every detail.

Ava stared at him. There was something in his tone she couldn’t read. He wasn’t mocking her, wasn’t smirking. For the first time, Ethan Cross looked serious.

And that unsettled her more than anything else.

---

Hours dragged by. The dim bulb buzzed overhead. Ava’s wrists ached, her throat dry. She shifted uncomfortably against the ropes.

“You’re going to saw your skin off if you keep struggling like that,” Ethan remarked.

“Do you have a better idea?” she snapped.

“Actually, yes.” He lifted his hands, revealing a shard of glass he must have swiped from the floor. Slowly, carefully, he began cutting at his ropes.

Ava’s jaw dropped. “You—you had that the whole time?”

He smirked faintly. “Patience, princess. Timing is everything.”

Within minutes, the ropes around his wrists fell loose. He quickly moved to free his ankles. Ava stared in disbelief.

“Well?” she demanded. “Are you going to help me, or are you enjoying my suffering?”

Ethan crouched in front of her, eyes gleaming. “Oh, I definitely enjoy seeing you humbled.”

Ava glared, ready to kick him. But then, without another word, he began cutting her ropes. His movements were steady, almost gentle, though he disguised it with a casual shrug.

When her wrists came free, Ava rubbed them, relief flooding her. She muttered grudgingly, “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” Ethan leaned closer, his voice low. “Whoever these men are, they won’t keep us alive forever. We need a way out.”

Ava met his gaze, tension sparking between them. For once, their hatred took a backseat to something stronger: survival.

---

Hours later, as they pretended to sleep against the crates, Ava whispered, “Ethan… do you think this is about our families?”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the door. Finally, he said, “Maybe. Maybe not. But whatever it is, they wanted you alive. That means you’re important to them.”

“And you?” she asked softly.

His lips curved faintly, though not in a smirk this time. “Me? I’m just the bonus prize.”

Ava frowned, studying him. There was something in his tone—a weight she couldn’t quite place. But before she could ask more, the door creaked open again.

The kidnappers entered, dragging them both to their feet.

“Move,” one of them barked.

As they were shoved into the dim corridor, Ava stumbled, nearly falling. Ethan immediately steadied her, his hand gripping her arm firmly. She shot him a glare, but he only said quietly, “Keep your head down.”

For once, Ava didn’t argue.

The metal door slammed shut, locking Ava and Ethan inside another dim, windowless room. This one was smaller, colder, with a single barred window high above their heads. Rusted pipes snaked along the walls, dripping water that echoed in the silence.

Ava sank onto the floor, her arms aching from being forced behind her back again. Her ropes felt tighter this time, digging into her skin until she hissed in pain.

Ethan sat against the opposite wall, his wrists bound like hers, though his expression stayed maddeningly calm. He looked as though he’d been through this before—like captivity was nothing new.

Ava’s chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. “This is insane. Why would anyone go through this trouble just to take me?”

“Because you’re a Hale,” Ethan said simply, tilting his head back against the wall. “Your family’s name alone paints a target on your back.”

She glared at him. “Oh, and what? You’re saying the Cross name doesn’t do the same? Don’t act like you’re not just as tangled in dangerous business.”

He shrugged, unbothered. “True. But I don’t make a habit of insulting my captors to their faces. Unlike you.”

Ava’s cheeks heated. She hated that he had a point. “I wasn’t going to just sit there like some helpless—”

“You almost got yourself killed,” Ethan cut in, his tone sharper than usual. “Do you realize how stupid that was? You don’t antagonize armed men who have nothing to lose.”

Ava blinked, stunned into silence. He had never spoken to her like that—no mockery, no smug smile. Just raw, frustrated honesty.

Her throat tightened. “Why do you even care?”

For a heartbeat, Ethan’s eyes softened, but then his smirk returned like a mask slipping back into place. “I don’t. I just don’t feel like dying because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.”

Ava scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Typical. Always looking out for yourself.”

But deep inside, she couldn’t shake the way he had stood in front of her earlier, shielding her from that guard’s shove. She had seen the fire in his eyes—the kind of fury that didn’t come from rivalry, but from something else.

Something protective.

---

Hours passed. The sound of dripping water was maddening. Ava tried wriggling her wrists free, but the ropes only burned her skin. She bit her lip, fighting frustration.

“Stop squirming,” Ethan muttered from across the room.

She shot him a glare. “Why don’t you stop telling me what to do?”

“Because you’re going to bleed before you get free.” His gaze flicked to her wrists. “Here.”

He scooted closer, his movements restricted but purposeful. Ava stiffened when he reached for her hands. “What are you—”

“Relax, princess,” he murmured. “I’m not going to bite.”

His fingers brushed against hers as he inspected the ropes. Ava’s pulse jumped. She hated the warmth that spread through her chest at the simple contact.

Ethan’s expression was focused now, the usual smugness gone. He shifted his bound wrists, pulling a tiny shard of metal from his sleeve. Ava’s eyes widened.

“You—you hid that?” she whispered.

“Of course,” he said casually, beginning to work the shard against her ropes. “You think I’d let them tie me up without a backup plan?”

The ropes loosened gradually. Ava held her breath, watching his steady hands. Every tug, every scrape of metal against rope made her chest tighten for reasons she didn’t understand.

Finally, her wrists came free. She exhaled sharply, rubbing the red marks on her skin. “How—how did you even get that piece of metal?”

Ethan leaned back, sliding the shard away before freeing his own ropes. “Let’s just say I notice things others don’t.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, though her voice lacked conviction.

“And you’re welcome,” he said smoothly, flexing his freed wrists.

---

They both knew escape wasn’t simple. The barred window was too high, the door too thick. But at least being unbound gave them a fighting chance.

As they whispered quietly in the shadows, Ava asked, “Do you think… they’ll kill us?”

Ethan studied her face, his eyes unreadable. For once, he didn’t tease. “Not if I can help it.”

Her heart skipped. She opened her mouth to argue, but the intensity in his voice silenced her.

Before she could respond, the sound of approaching footsteps sent them scrambling back into position, pretending their ropes were still tight. The door creaked open, and two guards stepped in with trays of food.

One of them tossed stale bread toward Ava, nearly hitting her shoulder. Rage burned inside her, but she bit her tongue this time. She remembered Ethan’s warning.

Ethan caught her eye, giving the faintest nod of approval.

When the guards finally left, Ava let out a shaky breath. “I hate this.”

Ethan leaned back, closing his eyes. “Welcome to the real world. It’s not galas and glitter.”

She bristled. “You think I don’t know hardship? You think I’m just some pampered doll?”

He opened his eyes again, meeting her gaze. For a moment, his usual mask slipped. “No. I think you’re stronger than you realize. But strength without control gets people killed.”

The words sank into her like a stone in water, rippling through every layer of her pride.

Ava turned away, hugging her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to admit it, but she was starting to see Ethan differently. Not just as the arrogant rival she’d grown up hating—but as someone who knew things she didn’t, who had survived things she couldn’t imagine.

Someone who—against all reason—was protecting her.

---

That night, as Ava dozed off against the wall, she stirred awake to the sound of movement. Her eyes fluttered open, and in the faint light, she saw Ethan standing near the door, silent and watchful.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” she whispered groggily.

“Because someone has to keep watch,” he murmured back.

Ava blinked at him, her chest tightening. She wanted to ask why—why he was doing all of this when he supposedly hated her. But exhaustion pulled her back into sleep before the words could leave her lips.

Ethan stood in the silence, his jaw tight. He glanced at her sleeping form, her head resting gently against the wall.

“You’ll never understand,” he whispered to the darkness. “Not yet.”