"Damn that Eva!" Ava spat, glaring at the swarm of reporters outside her company building like they were hyenas circling a wounded gazelle.
The way they clung to the gates, snapping photos and shouting questions, you'd think she'd murdered the President and not accidentally name-drop Zach Ford to save her evil sister's face.
"I only said his name to help that little bitch, now she's using it to ruin me—AGAIN!" Ava paced back and forth, heels clacking against the marble floor. "I can't believe paparazzis caught me in that definitely shady club and how on earth did I fall for that scam?!"
"EXO," Adelle muttered.
"Ah, yeah," Ava muttered back.
"So what are we going to do now, my lady? Should I call for staff meeting?" Adelle gasped dramatically, fingers flying over her laptop keyboard at lightning speed.
She was deleting hate comments from Ava's social media without even glancing at the screen — like a social media assassin who could wipe out trolls while blindfolded, underwater, and mid-nap.
Ava paused. "First of all... why not just turn off the comment section?" Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not paying you extra to play Fruit Ninja with insults."
Adelle froze, blinking once, twice—then in one smooth motion, she yeeted the laptop at the wall like a frisbee.
"Of course!" she grinned—a dead, hollow grin of a woman who had been fighting online hate since the dawn of Facebook.
Ava pinched the bridge of her nose. This was her life now—surrounded by unhinged employees, evil siblings, and a PR nightmare starring Zach fucking Ford.
"Try reaching Zach Ford first," her voice was calm, composed—the kind of calm that came right before she snapped and burned the entire company down.
"I already tried thirty minutes ago," Adelle wiped sweat off her forehead like she'd just climbed Mount Olympus. "That damned man doesn't have a single contact detail on the Ford family website—it's like he was born, ruined people's lives, and disappeared into thin air."
Ava's lips pursed. "What about Zeke?"
Adelle's eye twitched. "Oh, I reached that motherfucker," her fingers clenched into fists like she was ready to commit war crimes. "He answered the call, laughed, said 'Enjoy the fame, sweetheart' — and then hung up. The audacity."
Ava's teeth gritted so hard she could've bitten through steel.
"Give me his number. I'll call him myself."
Adelle's head snapped up like Ava just suggested summoning the devil in the middle of the office.
"But, my lady... that man has been trying to get into your pants since the invention of Wi-Fi," she shivered. "You've avoided him like the plague for ten years—are you really willing to risk your sanity just to clear your name?"
Ava's eye twitched so violently, Adelle thought for a second her mistress was about to unlock Sharingan powers.
"Give. Me. His. Number," Ava's voice was calm—too calm. The kind of calm that came before an entire city gets wiped off the map in disaster movies.
Adelle hesitated, clutching her replacement laptop as if it could protect her from the chaos about to unfold. "But... my lady... he sends you 'Good Morning, Beautiful' texts every single day from three different burner numbers. Are you sure you want to open that Pandora's box?"
Ava's head snapped towards her, eyes narrowed.
"I survived nineteen years in the same household as Eva Summers, Adelle. I've endured tax fraud, exposed scams, and watching my own sister eat the last piece of cheesecake meant for me. I can handle one delusional flirt."
Adelle crossed herself.
"May the heavens have mercy on your soul, my lady."
Adelle reluctantly scrolled through her list of phone numbers—the list of creatures that should have been banished from this world—and found Zeke Ford sitting comfortably between two other unspeakable horrors:
1. That creep from accounting who always says, "Smile, sweetheart!"
2. The supplier who tried to sell them counterfeit collagen creams last year.
She handed the phone to Ava like it was a grenade with the pin already pulled out.
Ava snatched it, inhaled sharply, then dialed.
RING...
RING...
RING...
And then...
"Good morning, Beautiful Ava. Goddess of my life. I knew you'd call me!"
Adelle choked on her own saliva.
IT WAS 3 IN THE AFTERNOON.
Ava immediately slapped the phone against her forehead, inhaling and exhaling like she was about to give birth to a whole-ass humanity.
"You slimy little worm—"
"Ohhh!" Zeke's voice suddenly turned seductive. "Is that really you, sugar? Did you finally miss me? Or did your heart finally melt from all those voice messages I left singing Bruno Mars songs?"
Adelle, who had been discreetly backing away, full-on sprinted out of the office like she wanted no part of this conversation.
Ava's temple vein was popping out so hard. "Listen to me, you horny walking red flag—"
"Wow," Zeke chuckled. "Even when you're angry, you're still so hot. Have I told you that your LinkedIn profile picture gives me sleepless nights?"
Adelle gagged in the hallway.
Ava's fingers curled tighter around the phone, threatening to crush it with sheer willpower.
"ZEKE. I need your brother's number."
Silence.
Then...
"Ohhhh... you mean Zach Ford?" Zeke drawled, as if his own DNA wasn't a carbon copy of the man. "What do you need him for, darling? Are you finally trying to make me jealous now that I'm bound to marry your little sister?"
Ava's left eye twitched harder.
"I'm trying not to make you a missing person case, Zeke."
Adelle peeked through the door crack, clutching her rosary.
"My lady, please don't commit murder—"
Ava covered the mic. "Pray harder."
Zeke finally sighed. "Alright, alright, I'll give you Zach's number... but only if you finally agree to have dinner with me."
Ava bit down on her own fist to avoid screaming.
"I would rather chew glass and wash it down with expired milk."
Zeke snickered. "Kinky."
Ava's soul was on the verge of astral projecting straight to hell when finally, the devil himself relented.
"Fine, sugar. Check your messages. But don't pretend you don't miss me."
Ava hung up without another word.
Adelle immediately crossed herself seven times and downed a whole bottle of holy water from her purse.
"My lady... how do you live with such enemies?"
Ava wiped imaginary tears from her eyes. "By reminding myself that one day... they will all meet their maker."
Ten minutes later, Zach's number arrived in a text from Zeke captioned:
"Here you go, my queen. Call me anytime (preferably at night, wink emoji). ❤️"
Ava deleted the message so hard the phone almost caught fire. With shaking fingers, she dialed the number.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three—
"Hello?"
Ava straightened, clearing her throat, instantly switching to CEO Mode™.
"Mr. Ford. This is Ava Summers."
"Hello, my queen."
A pause.
Then—
"FUCK YOU, ZEKE!" Ava screamed on her phone so sharp, the screen literally cracked.
"Hahaha."
Ava's eye twitched the moment that godforsaken voice echoed through her office speakers — the same voice that had been haunting her nightmares since puberty.
"Yes, sugar. It is still I, with my second number."
Zeke's tone dripped with sleaze and misplaced self-confidence, like a man who truly believed he was heaven's gift to women.
Ava gripped the phone like she was about to hurl it out the window. "You little shit! Can you just—"
"Dinner."
Ava froze.
"At a restaurant," Zeke's voice lowered like he was offering her the deal of a lifetime, not holding her entire life hostage. "Take it or leave it."
Ava's jaw clenched so hard she could taste enamel dust. This man had no shame. No dignity. No soul.
"You think I'd sell my soul to the devil just to get your brother's number?" she sneered.
"Sugar, you wouldn't be the first."
Ava made a strangled noise — half scream, half prayer for patience.
"Listen to me, you slimy, woman-repelling son of—"
"And don't even try finding other ways to reach my brother," Zeke cut in, voice smug enough to make God smite him on the spot. "He practically lives in the family basement like a misunderstood vampire, and the only one capable of communicating with him is no other than his twin brother..."
A beat of silence.
"Me."
Ava's eye twitched again.
"Zeke—"
"Zeke the Almighty Ford."
Ava slammed her palm on the desk, veins popping. "I will personally set your hair on fire if you don't give me his number right now."
"Dinner, sugar." Zeke's grin was practically audible through the line. "Wear something tight."
Ava's soul left her body.
And with that, Zeke the Almighty Ford dropped the call like he had just closed a million-dollar deal — not extorted a dinner date from a woman who'd rather French kiss a cactus than spend an hour with him.
Ava stared at her phone, her breathing shallow, eyes flickering with murder.
"Oh, you uncultured maggot!" she hissed through gritted teeth, her fingers itching to file an official petition to have him exiled to Mars.
Adelle flinched from the corner like a frightened meerkat, clutching her tablet to her chest. Slowly—carefully—she tiptoed closer, moving like Ava might suddenly explode and take half the building down with her.
"U-Uhm... my lady?" she stammered. "H-How about we just... call up a board meeting? Discuss how the company will face this scandal... release a statement... maybe a little damage control? You know... the usual 'we are deeply saddened by the false accusations' corporate speech?"
Adelle sheepishly smiled like she was suggesting they offer a blood sacrifice to the gods.
"That way... you can, uh... save yourself from Zeke?"
Ava turned to her with the deadest of dead eyes.
"Adelle."
"Yes, my lady?"
"Did you hit your head this morning or did you always have this much faith in humanity?"
Adelle's smile wavered. "A little bit of both, my lady."
Ava let out the most exhausted sigh — the kind of sigh only women with evil sibling and horny pests chasing them for a decade could ever master. Halfway through, she actually considered flinging her phone out the window and starting a new life in the mountains as a goat herder.
"You know showbiz better, Adelle." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "A corporate statement might work if this was about some boring illegal deal scandal. But Zach Ford?"
She turned, pacing dramatically like she was starring in her own telenovela. "A rich, mysterious recluse who hasn't shown his face in years? The misunderstood, brooding twin locked up in the Ford mansion like some gothic romance novel hero? People eat that shit up, Adelle."
Adelle blinked. "You mean... like those mafia novels?"
Ava paused mid-step, slowly turning her head. "Please don't ever compare my life to novels again. I have bad expression with it. I was a writer once and when I read my old works, even Mother Nature would weep in disgust."
Adelle cleared her throat. "Noted, my lady."
Ava shook her head, eyes still blazing.
"The club photos—those we can deny." She waved her hand like she was conducting an orchestra of chaos. "Our faces aren't even showing — just some blurry silhouettes in the background that might look like us if you're drunk and half-blind."
Adelle nodded furiously.
"But the mistake I made? Mentioning Zach Ford's name? And that cursed tweet?" Ava's eyes narrowed like she was ready to sue herself for defamation. "That's something I can only fix... by denying."
Adelle's eyes sparkled with hope. "Yes! Yes, my lady! Just deny, deny, deny—"
"—after I meet up with Zeke and get Zach's number and force him to release a statement denying."
"Oh... we're doomed."