CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN - THE STRANGER’S HAND

"Agreed," he said, his voice a touch rougher than usual. "We'll start on that next week." As they packed up for the night, Ava couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between them. The late nights, the shared secrets, the thrill of their covert investigation – it was all adding up to a complicated tangle of emotions she wasn't quite ready to unravel. They rode the elevator down in companionable silence, both lost in thought. As they reached the lobby, Max turned to her. "Good work this week, Ava," he said softly. "I couldn't do this without you." Ava felt a warm glow of pride at his words. "We make a good team," she replied with a small smile. During one such night, as they huddled over a particularly complex set of financial documents, Ava became acutely aware of Max's proximity. The scent of his cologne, a subtle mix of sandalwood and citrus, filled her senses. She glanced up, catching his intense gaze fixed on the papers before them, his brow furrowed in concentration