PART 3:

He sensed she didn’t get many chances to talk like this. He knew enough about stress, responsibility, and pressure to understand that even powerful people could feel trapped inside the lives they built. “I get it, in a different way.” he said quietly. “When Mia was born, I took on everything. Work, daycare, diapers, late-night fevers.

I kept telling myself I could handle it all, that I didn’t need help. I rubbed the back of my neck. Sometimes I wonder if I got so used to holding everything together that I forgot how to put anything down.” Ava turned her head slightly, finally glancing at him over her shoulder. Her expression wasn’t pity.

It was recognition. “That sounds familiar.” she said. For a moment, she looked almost relieved that someone else understood the feeling of being stretched thin without admitting it out loud. She walked back toward her desk, her steps slower now, like she wasn’t in CEO mode anymore. “Your daughter,” she said, leaning lightly on the edge of the desk, “what’s she like?” The question surprised him, not because it was personal, but because she genuinely seemed to care.

“She’s a firecracker.” I said, unable to stop the small smile that formed. “Smart, too curious for her own good, and she talks nonstop. I mean, nonstop.” Ava’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Sounds exhausting.” “It is, but she makes life better, even on the days she’s impossible.” Ava nodded, looking down at her hands as if she was weighing something inside herself.

“I don’t have kids. Never thought I’d had the time or the stability for it.” There was a quiet honesty in her tone, something she rarely let slip. “But sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to have a little version of life that wasn’t tied to boardrooms and deadlines.” Liam shifted his weight. “You’re not as distant as people think.

” he said before he could stop himself. He expected her to bristle at that, but she didn’t. She looked up, studying him with that calm intensity that made him feel seen in a way he didn’t expect from someone like her. “And you’re not as invisible as you think.” she replied. The words struck him with surprising force.

He wasn’t used to being noticed beyond his job title, not by anyone in this building, especially not by her. He cleared his throat and returned his focus to the computer. “The system crash came from corrupted startup files. I’m repairing them now. Should prevent the automatic shutdown.” Ava watched him work for a moment before speaking again.

“You speak plainly. People don’t do that with me. They’re either afraid of upsetting me or trying to impress me.” Liam gave a small shrug. “I don’t have the energy to pretend I’m someone I’m not. Life’s too full for that.” Her expression softened in a way he hadn’t seen before, as if she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure she should.

When the computer rebooted smoothly, Liam stepped back. “Should be good now. No more surprise shutdowns.” Ava nodded, but she didn’t look at the computer. She looked at him, quiet and steady. “Thank you. Not just for fixing it.” The air between them warmed, subtle but unmistakable. Something had shifted, something small but significant, a connection neither of them had planned, built from honesty neither of them saw coming.

Ava didn’t return to her usual polished posture or clipped, efficient tone after he finished the repair. Instead, she lingered near the desk, arms resting loosely at her sides, as if the quiet moment between them had opened a door she wasn’t ready to close. Liam felt it, too, that shift from formal interaction to something more human, more curious.

He started packing his tools, expecting her to dismiss him the way executives often did once their problem was solved, but she didn’t. “How long have you been here?” she asked, and the question wasn’t a casual one. It carried genuine interest. Liam zipped his bag and leaned one hand on the chair. “About 3 years.” he said.

“Got the job right after Mia started school, needed something stable.” Ava nodded, absorbing his answer like she was filing it somewhere meaningful. “3 years.” she repeated softly. “And I don’t think we’ve ever spoken before today.” Liam wasn’t sure how to respond without sounding awkward. “Well, you’re a little busy running the world.” he joked lightly.

Her lips curved in a faint smile. “Sometimes it feels like the world is running me.” she said. The way she said it wasn’t dramatic. It was honest. She motioned toward the seating area near the windows. “Sit for a minute.” she said. And though he hesitated, because what employee casually sits with the CEO, there was something in her tone that made the request feel less like an order and more like an invitation.

He sat across from her on a low couch, feeling strangely out of place and yet oddly welcome. Ava lowered herself into the chair opposite him, folding one leg over the other. “Tell me about your daughter.” she said. The question disarmed him. Most people asked out of politeness, but she asked like she was genuinely interested.

“Mia’s a lot.” he said with a small laugh. “She’s curious about everything. Last week she took apart the remote control just to see how it worked. Didn’t put it back together, of course.” Ava smiled, really smiled, and the warmth in her expression surprised him. “She sounds spirited.” she said. “That’s one word for it.” he replied.

“Some days I think she’s determined to give me gray hair before I turn 40.” They both laughed quietly, and the sound softened the room. Ava’s smile lingered for a moment before fading into something more reflective. “I envy that.” she admitted. Liam tilted his head. “Envy what?” She traced a slow line along the arm of her chair.

👉 [Tap here for the Next Part ] 👈