Entangled: The deadly secret of a Billionaire's Widow

The smell of sugar and yeast filled the air as Ava Montgomery stared at the shabby wooden counter of her family's pastry store.

It was a familiar scent that had permeated her life for as long as she could remember. Today, however, the sweetness seemed tainted, a stark reminder of the complex situation they were facing.

For more than fifty years, Montgomery's Desserts, a pastry restaurant, has been a focal point in their serene area of Los Angeles. It was the place where her guardians met and fell in love, where her grandparents spilt their hearts and souls, and where Ava discovered her passion for heating. However, the once-booming industry was now faltering and in danger of collapsing.

Slouched over a pile of bills, Ava's father, a guy whose smile usually rivalled the warmth of their naturally cooked bread, had a creased brow from stress. Her mother, who was usually a whirlwind of energy, walked slowly, her shoulders slumped with defeat. Her father responded, "It is fair... there is no other way, Ava," in a tone so full of compliance.

"The bank is causing crippling repossession." We have tried everything.

Ava's heart fell.

Their company, their household, their legacy, the pastry kitchen was more than just a fair transaction. Losing it was like losing a piece of who they were.

Ava said, "There must be something we are able to do," in an edgy voice. "Another credit, a pledge drive, anything."With deep sympathy in her eyes, her mother said. "My dear, we have looked into every avenue. Nowadays, there is hardly anybody eager to help out in a struggling pastry kitchen.A wave of weakness washed over Ava. She would always been a fighter, a survivor, but this situation did not seem favourable. The burden of responsibility pressed down on her, threatening to crush her spirit.

Later that night, when the last of the day's baked goodies had been meticulously pushed out, Ava was left alone in the pastry store. The antique grandfather clock in the corner ticked away, breaking the beautiful silence. Following the grooves created by years of use, she traced her fingertips down the counter, each one serving as a testament to her family's dedication. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered her grandparents, their flour-stained hands and their happy smiles around the foyer. Their dream was the pastry kitchen, which was now vanishing.

Suddenly, she was startled by a loud thud. She wiped away her tears and walked to the door, her pulse pounding with a mixture of fear and confidence.On the threshold stood a towering, commanding figure, his face obscured by the road's dim light. He was carrying a bouquet of lilies in one hand and a briefcase in the other.

"Miss Montgomery?" he said in a polished and silky voice. Ava made a move, provoking curiosity. He went on, "My title is Charles Wellington," and stepped out into the light. "I am here on sake of Mr. Richard Westlake."

Ava furrowed her brow. Although the title seemed somewhat familiar, she was unable to identify it."Mr. Westlake might be... a very successful businessman," Mr. Wellington said, his mouth curving into a cunning smile. "He encompasses a recommendation for you."

Anxiety and curiosity mixed together in Ava's heartbeat. What could possibly be necessary for this reclusive Mr. Westlake to have her? When he saw that she was faltering, Mr. Wellington gestured to the flowers. "Miss Montgomery, these are for you. A sign of goodwill from Mr. Westlake.

Reluctantly, Ava acknowledged the flowers, whose aroma filled the room with a delightful, intoxicating aroma. Mr. Wellington continued: "Mr. Westlake is mindful of your family's... monetary challenges," his voice fading to a whisper of conspiracy. "He is willing to offer you an arrangement." Ava's ears pricked. Could this be the answer to their prayers?

"He is arranged to contribute a substantial entirety in your pastry kitchen," said Wellington, "sufficient to clear your obligations and secure your future." Ava's throat tightened with breath. It sounded too wonderful to be true. Mr. Wellington said, "But there is a condition," as his smile widened.

Ava felt her stomach turn. Capture was happening all the time. Mr. Wellington's eyes sparkled as he said, "Mr. Westlake might be a man who values... companionship." "He is searching for a spouse."

Ava's heart fell.

This was a deal with the fallen angel, not an arrangement. "He is advertising you a marriage of comfort, Miss Montgomery," said Mr. Wellington, "a commonly advantageous course of action."

A rush of nausea swept over Ava. Marriage, especially to a complete stranger, had never occurred to her as a means to an end.Seeing her hesitation, Mr. Wellington said, "I understand that this is frequently a part to require in." However, I can assure you that Mr. Westlake could be a liberal and compassionate individual. He will provide you with a secure and comforting existence. Ava's thoughts whirled. Her guardians' stressed-out looks, the pastry kitchen, and their bequest hanging inside the adjust were all in her mind. Was she prepared to sacrifice her aspirations and her opportunities for their sake?She finally managed to utter, "I need time to think," hardly raising her voice above a whisper.

Mr. Wellington handed her a card and indicated. "If you have any queries, please not hesitate to get in touch with me. Despite his modest demeanour, Mr. Westlake is too clear-cut.Ava gripped the flowers tightly as she watched Mr. Wellington go into the night, their aroma now stifling, a reminder of the unfathomable decision she had to make. Her flexibility was the price she had to pay for the fate of her family's gift. With Mr. Wellington's remarks pressing down on her, Ava slumped into a chair. Her guardians, oblivious to the visitor, rushed about the kitchen, the sound of dishes a startling contrast to the confusion in her mind.

Ava said, "Mother, Father," her voice shaking. "There was a man here... he had a suggestion."

Her guardians exchanged anxious glances, their progress halted.

"A recommendation?" With a worried tone, her mother repeated. "What kind of recommendation?"Unsure of how to bring up the topic, Ava hesitated. "He... he speaks to a well off businessman, Richard Westlake."There was a flash of recognition on her father's face.

"Westlake? "The real domain tycoon?"Ava made a motion. "He... he needs to contribute within the pastry shop."Her parents' eyes brightened with faith as a wave of assistance passed over their features. "Ava, that is fantastic news!" her mother said, putting her hands together. "This may be our salvation!"