Page 14

THE SHADOW

H iding in the empty office, I pressed my back against the cold wall and tried to steady my breathing. The faulty window latch had been a lucky find—one I planned to exploit—but for now, it was all about waiting for the right moment.

Waiting. And listening. Every sound outside in the reception area carried into this small room, clear as a goddamn bell.

“Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Donahue. Please, come in,” the receptionist said, her voice polite and warm.

The sharp click of Ava’s heels echoed on the marble floor, a sound that sent a pang through me.

I could almost picture her walking in, poised and perfect, her hand lightly brushing Ty’s arm as they kept up their ruse.

And then Ty’s voice cut through, smooth and dripping with something I couldn’t quite place. “Every time someone calls you ‘Mrs. Donahue,’ I keep expecting to be awakened from this dream. But you are my wife, aren’t you? You are mine .”

The words landed like a punch to my chest.

It wasn’t just the words themselves—Ty’s tone held a lightness, an unguarded warmth I hadn’t heard from him in years. It was as if, for once, there was a beating heart beneath all that cold, calculated steel.

I fucking hated it.

Ava’s laugh followed, soft and sweet like it was meant to taunt me.

The receptionist gushed, her cooing voice like nails on a chalkboard. “Oh, you two are just the cutest! I’ll let the director know you’ve arrived. Coffee or tea for either of you?”

I held my breath, straining to hear their answers.

“My wife takes milk and two sugars in her coffee,” Ty said, his voice steady and sure.

I froze, my blood turning to ice. Is that true?

I didn’t know.

Ava and I had never actually spent a morning lingering over breakfast together.

“And my husband prefers his coffee black. Like his heart,” Ava quipped, and the soft laughter that followed felt like a dagger between my ribs.

They knew these small, intimate details about each other. The kind you didn’t learn in passing. The kind you learned by spending days—weeks—together.

My stomach churned. Of course they knew. They’d spent an entire summer side by side. Eating together. Talking. Living .

The realization slammed into me, hollowing out my chest.

Ty knew Ava in ways I didn’t. In ways I hadn’t allowed myself to.

Because I’d spent our childhood being her bully, being cruel to her and pushing her away.

And as adults, I’d spent most of my time with her lurking in the shadows, watching her from a distance. Hiding who I really was.

But Ty? He’d been right there. With her. Every damn day. Then. And now.

He knew her. Really knew her.

Jealousy clawed its way up my throat, hot and suffocating, but I shoved it down. There wasn’t time to dwell. The clicking of heels and the steady thud of dress shoes signaled the director’s arrival, her cheery voice cutting through the air.

“Mr. and Mrs. Donahue! It’s so lovely to meet you. Please, follow me.”

Focus. Ty and Ava had done their part. And if I didn’t want their playacting the happy fucking couple to be for nothing, I had to do mine.

I peeked out of the office room, my pulse thundering in my ears.

On one end of the elegant hallway was the director’s polished cherry wood door. At the other end stood Ava and Ty, the perfect picture of a beautiful couple.

The director extended a hand, her smile practiced and professional, but my focus zeroed in on them .

Ty’s arm was draped around Ava’s shoulders, possessive and protective, and every fiber of my being screamed to rip it off her. Smash my fist into his smug, laughing face.

But we all had our roles to play.

They’re pretending . At least Ava was pretending.

But then she glanced up at him, her smile radiant, as if the world began and ended with him. The way she leaned into him, relaxed and trusting, gutted me.

That wasn’t fake. That wasn’t for show.

A sharp, bitter pain stabbed through my chest, but I didn’t have time to wallow in it. The director led Ty and Ava down the hallway, their laughter floating back to me like an echo of everything I was losing.

As soon as the hallway cleared, I slipped out, moving fast but silent. I darted into the director’s office and moved behind the oversized mid-century desk. A sleek new computer sat there, powered on and ready for me.

I shoved a USB drive into the port, my movements efficient, but my thoughts chaotic.

The files began copying, the slow progress bar ticking forward, and I tried to focus.

My eyes kept darting to the closed door, my ears straining for footsteps, but all I could see— all I could feel —was Ava’s smile as she looked at him.

Bright. Genuine. The kind of smile that used to belong to me.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides.

I could still hear her laugh, light and musical, and the easy confidence in her tone when she rattled off Ty’s coffee order.

My stomach churned as jealousy clawed at me. Where was Ty touching her now? Her hand? The small of her back? Her face?

I’d made them promise they wouldn’t kiss, but they’d have to touch. Hold hands. Lean into each other. Pretend to be madly in love.

What if it wasn’t all pretend?

I gritted my teeth and shoved the thought down.

Enough.

The files finished copying, the drive glowing briefly as it ejected.

I grabbed it, my heart hammering, and slipped it into my pocket. Time to get the hell out of this place and end my brother’s little fantasy of playing house with my girl.

But my anger had made me sloppy.

I was halfway out the office door when I saw them.

Ava and Ty, standing just down the hall. Ava looked radiant under the soft light, her hand in Ty’s, her face bright with her practiced smile.

A hollow ache flared in my chest at how effortlessly they played the part of a couple.

Then I spotted the director standing with them, her back to me, and I froze, every muscle locked.

All it would take was one look. One casual glance over her shoulder, and the director would see me standing there, caught red-handed.

I was so screwed.

Ava’s eyes locked with mine, wide with panic.

In the very next breath, she turned to Ty with a honeyed smile and cooed, “Oh, Ty, I think we’ve found our perfect agency!”

Then her arms wrapped around his neck .

My breath caught, and I froze in place, rooted to the spot as her lips pressed against his.

The kiss wasn’t fleeting. It wasn’t a brush of lips for the sake of appearances. It was deliberate. Real.

Icy betrayal gripped me, spreading like poison through my veins. She swore. The one promise I’d demanded from both of them.

No kissing.

No crossing that line. And now here they were, breaking it right in front of me.

The sight of Ty’s arms tightening around her waist, pulling her against him, was a knife to the gut.

My rational mind tried to speak through the chaos. She’s doing this to protect you. To keep the director from turning around and spotting you.

But the jealousy, the fury, burned hotter than reason.

Ty didn’t just go along with it—he leaned into it, deepened it. His hand slid possessively to the small of her back, anchoring her to him like he had every right.

Bastard.

My fists curled at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I fought the urge to storm down the hall, rip her from his arms, and remind them both exactly who Ava belonged to.

But I couldn’t—wouldn’t—ruin everything. Not when the stakes were so high.

I forced my gaze away, the image of them searing into my mind like a brand, and I moved swiftly down the hall.

The kiss gave me the distraction I needed, the director’s attention firmly occupied, but every step felt like dragging my feet through molten lead. My chest ached, each breath sharper than the last.

Reaching the room I’d scouted earlier, I slipped inside, the cool air from the partially open window cutting through the heat in my veins.

I climbed out through the window, the scent of damp earth and distant rain filling my nose, my heart still pounding as my feet hit the gravel outside. But it wasn’t the fear of being caught that consumed me—it was the sight of Ava in Ty’s arms, her lips on his.

She’d done it to protect me. I knew that. But knowing didn’t erase the way her kiss lingered in my mind, how Ty’s hands on her made my blood boil.

The line had been crossed, and my blood burned with a fury I could barely contain. I didn’t know who I was angrier at—Ty or Ava.

Ty? I expected it from him. Of course, I did. I knew he’d use the married couple ruse as an excuse to push boundaries, to test how far he could go.

I couldn’t even blame him, not entirely. If our roles were reversed, if it were me pretending Ava was mine, I’d do the same damn thing without hesitation.

But Ava? I trusted her. I believed her. When she kissed me and whispered, “Scáth, my kisses and my heart are only for you,” I’d let myself hope that it was true.

That it would always be true. That no matter how close Ty got to her, no matter how much he tempted her, she’d keep him at arm’s length.

Now, that trust felt cracked. Fragile. The way she’d leaned into him, the softness in her expression—it wasn’t just acting .

I got into my sleek black sedan, and before I could question my actions, I drove off without waiting for them. I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew that if I saw them right now, I’d probably kill them both.

As the Dublin streets blurred past my window, fear twisted in my gut, sharp and suffocating.

Had something shifted between them? Had that kiss, however much of a performance she might claim it was, awakened something between them that I couldn’t stop?

The thought was like poison, spreading through my veins.

I’m losing her.