5. Let's Be Honest

A heavy silence blanketed the living room, only broken by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall. Ava sat rigid on the edge of the brocade settee, her mother’s hand at her back—gentle, but firm as a shackle. Across the room, her father’s face was a mask of disappointment and wounded pride. Justin stood near the fireplace, his posture ramrod straight, eyes fixed on a spot above her head as if he could will himself somewhere else.

No one spoke. No one dared.

Ava’s heart thudded in her chest, each beat loud enough, she thought, for everyone to hear. She drew in a shaky breath, but it did nothing to steady her.

Finally, Justin moved. He crossed the room in two long strides and stopped in front of her. His blonde hair fell over his brow, and there was a tremor in the hand he ran through it. 

“Ava,” he said, voice low, “I need you to look at me.”

She lifted her eyes, barely able to meet his. His jaw was set, lips pressed so tightly together she knew he was holding back a thousand angry words.

“How could you?” he whispered, not loud enough for anyone else to hear.

Ava swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “I—It all happened so fast. I didn’t think—”

“That much is clear.” His gaze swept over her, lingering on the ring that still gleamed on her finger. She curled her hand into a fist, hiding it in her lap.

Her mother’s grip tightened. “Justin, perhaps this isn’t the time—”

He cut her off with a curt shake of his head. “No, Mrs. Park. This is exactly the time.” 

He knelt before Ava, lowering his voice but not his intensity. “You made a mistake, Ava. One you’re going to fix.”

She blinked rapidly, looking away.

He pressed on, softer now, almost pleading. “You don’t want him. Everyone knows it. Least of all you. Whatever you thought you felt for this man—you know, he’s not right for you. He can’t give you what you need or deserve. If you annul this…this farce, we can put it behind us. The Parks and the Witifields can still be united, just as we always planned.”

Ava felt a surge of anger. “Is that what this is to you, Justin? Some business deal to be salvaged?” Her parents stiffened, but Justin didn’t flinch.

“I care for you,” he said, voice trembling. “And yes, our families had expectations. But more than that, I thought we cared for each other. I thought you respected me enough not to humiliate me, not to humiliate all of us, with this—this scandal.”

Ava’s cheeks burned. She hated him, the biggest hypocrite ever. But she hated the thought of being penniless, too. But wasn’t she certain if she could live her life being married to a no-good, sly dog like Justin? For the sake of a secure future.

“I can’t go back in time,” she said, her voice brittle. “But I can’t give up everything I am, either.”

Justin’s eyes narrowed. “You mean your fortune.”

She looked away, unable to deny it. “I—I can’t throw it all away for someone who has nothing. I’m not that brave.”

He straightened, disappointment flashing across his features. “You don’t have to be brave, Ava. You only have to be wise. There are ways to undo this mistake. Annul the marriage. Come back to me. I promise, once we’re married, I’ll make you forget all about that man and your foolish mistake, the embarrassment and shame you’ve brought upon our families. You’ll learn what real love is.”

Ava’s hands trembled. She could feel her mother’s silent approval, her father’s relief, waiting for her to agree. She stood suddenly, brushing off her mother’s hand. The room swayed, but she steadied herself.

“If I do this,” she said, her voice flat, “it’s because I have no other choice.”

Justin’s lips curled in a cold smile. “That’s all I ask.”

Her father finally spoke, his voice rough. “You’ll go to this man tonight. Explain it to him. The sooner this is dealt with, the sooner we can move forward.”

Ava nodded, unable to look at any of them. The room blurred with unshed tears as she turned on her heel and hurried to her room to change her clothes and leave.

Outside, the night was cold and bracing. Ava wrapped her coat tighter around her, drawing the collar up to her chin. The car was waiting, headlights cutting through the darkness as the driver opened the door. She slid into the backseat, folding her hands in her lap, realizing she didn’t even know where he lived. She knew very little, if anything, about DeMarco, but he worked at the City nightclub. She told the driver to take her to Sin City with her voice that barely sounded like her own.

The city blurred past her window, neon signs and streetlights smearing into streaks of color. Her mind raced with regrets and what-ifs. What had she done? Was there any way out that didn’t end in misery for someone?

The car pulled up to a stately building on the edge of downtown. Ava hesitated before getting out, her resolve wavering. She remembered DeMarco’s laugh, the warmth of his hand in hers, the reckless joy of that night—the night she’d thrown away everything for a dream.

She climbed out of the car, pausing at the door. Her hand shaking and her heart hammering. 

The doorman opened the door almost at once, as if he’d been waiting for her.

DeMarco stood in the doorway, rumpled and tired, but his eyes lit up when he saw her. “Ava. I didn’t expect—Come in, please.”

She stepped inside, her resolve hardening. Threading through the crowd that packed Sin Nightclub, the dance floor was packed like sardines tonight. DeMarco stayed close on her heels, inhaling her delicious fragrance with each breath. How is it that in a room permeated with perfume, cologne, and sweat, he only seemed to be breathing in her fragrance? 

He could feel his body heat rising as all his hot blood raced to one area. You could hear the blaring, rhythmic beat coming through the speakers. DeMarco usually had a pretty good read on women, and he was about 95% sure, give or take a little, that Ava had feelings for him. He hadn't dealt with this type of foreign girl before or dated anyone who looked like her before. 

He wasn't big on stereotyping anyone. He didn't like it when women assumed things about him because he was a black man. But he never imagined a foreign girl like her taking an interest in him. DeMarco knew he was attracted to all women, and he hoped Ava would give him the chance to show her just how into her he was. 

Ava went straight to the VIP section, where it was private.

“We are not going to be able to talk here if that’s what you came here to do.” 

She perched on the edge of the sofa, hands twisting in her lap.

He sat opposite her, concern etched in every line of his face. “Is everything all right?”

Ava met his gaze, searching for the right words. “I came here because I didn’t know how else to meet you. But we do need to talk about us. About what happened.”

“Let’s go upstairs, there’s a restaurant. Would you like something to eat or drink?”

“Thank you, I can use a drink.”  

When they entered, the hostess smiled and directed DeMarco and Ava to a table with a fantastic view of the city. But right now, he was too debonaire to notice anything else. He was wearing a striped white, gray, and black linen jacket with a casually open silk shirt, exposing his manly chest.

The penetration of his gaze took in everything about her from head to toe. 

Ava stood, at least five-eight or nine in heels, and was incredibly sexy. The delicate, short, multi-colored dress flowed, showing her shapely legs. It highlighted her narrow waist and perfectly sized breasts. Staring at her, DeMarco experienced an emotion he hadn't felt once in his 30 years of existence. 

'How could I forget, making love to a body like that?'

He saw something he wanted in his sober state, and there weren't too many things he wanted that he didn't get. Ava had attractive features, naturally arched eyebrows, and thick, long, black lashes that framed a pair of true-brown eyes. They had a hint of mysteriousness and depth. The more he looked, the more beautiful she was, the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

Ava took particular note of him, too. His face was a beautiful, smooth brown. He had exquisite features. Soft dark hair, neatly lined; nice size; unique eyes; dark eyebrows; high cheekbones; a thin, delicate smile that was showcased by a dark mustache; and a goatee that displayed a sensual mouth, which made him almost too beautiful for a man. He had it all in the looks department. Ava looked at him for a second longer. Now seeing him, that explains how she ended up married and in bed with a man like him.

His eyes toured up her legs, eventually circling over her breasts. She loved every delicious inch of him, examining her. He pulled out her chair before he took a seat. 

"Thank you," she said softly. 

DeMarco was thrilled that she had come to him, and he couldn't wait for answers from her about what had happened between them, because he was trying to draw water from an empty well.