She Wouldn’t Dare

Bill’s Perspective

I don’t know what’s gotten into Ava today. She isn’t acting like herself. Normally she just stands there stiff and dull, nothing to look at, nothing to think about. But now? Something’s off. Her lips look too red, her eyes too soft. Her whole face has this glow to it, like she’s been touched.

She wasn’t even dressed up—same boring clothes as always. A plain blue turtleneck sweater, long sleeves, a long skirt. Hair hanging down. But my eyes still caught on her chest, round and full under that sweater, like she was showing off without meaning to. It pissed me off how good she looked, how much it made me want her. That only made me angrier.

Before I knew it, my hand was already in the air. The slap landed hard across her cheek, the sound sharp in the room.

“Who the hell are you meeting dressed like a slut today?” I barked.

She didn’t flinch the way I thought she would. Instead, she stared straight at me, her voice sharp.

“Didn’t you say a woman like me could strip naked in the street and no one would give her a second glance? Then what difference does it make what I wear?”

The nerve of her. My blood boiled. My hand twitched, ready to hit her again, when Julian stepped in, clutching my arm.

“Bill, don’t—please don’t get angry. She probably doesn’t mean anything by it,” she said in that soft voice of hers.

She shot me a quick look, the kind that said more than her words. And that’s when it hit me.

That line Ava threw at me—word for word—it was the same damn thing I told Julian last night in bed.

My gut twisted. How the fuck would Ava know that?

“You fucking followed me?” I snapped, heat rising up my chest.

Ava’s lips curled, just a little. “Some things are best left unsaid.”

Damn it! She had really followed me and seen what happened between Julian and me!

Rage burned hotter. I wanted to smash her mouth shut right then, but she kept going, sounding smug.

“I heard Julian’s parents are already looking for marriage prospects for her. You know how much the church cares about their reputation. One word from me, and it’s over.”

Julian gripped my hand tight, scared.

Fuck this bitch! How did she turn into such a scheming snake?!

I locked my jaw. As much as I wanted to shut her up, I couldn’t risk Julian’s name being dragged into shit.

“You—did you deliberately leave that suit jacket here so I’d misunderstand and you’d get a chance to stir up trouble?!”

Ava just looked at me like I should figure it out myself. Of course, that was her plan. Otherwise, where the hell would she get the guts to bring a man into my house? This was all so she’d have something to use against Julian and me.

Good. Very good. She’s grown wings now and learned how to scheme just to get my attention.

Just as I was about to drop the issue, Julian tugged at my sleeve again. “Brother, don’t let her confuse you. Don’t you think the jacket looks like it was left by—”

“It’s okay, calm down. Ava loves me a lot. Besides, she wouldn’t dare cheat on me at all.” I pulled Julian close, reassuring her. “She just wanted to scheme for my attention.”

“Then… Brother, isn’t it better to let her confirm the truth with the church? Surely there, in front of the church, she can’t lie…”

That was right. It was better to let the church discipline her. That way she wouldn’t dare pull this kind of trick again.

Ava, hearing Julian’s suggestion, lifted her chin and said sincerely, “You already know how the Morgan family is. Why would you think I’d betray you? If I dared, my own family would kill me first. I didn’t.”

“See?” I patted Julian’s hand, reassuring her. “She really doesn’t dare. Don’t worry. I’ll let the church handle her.”

Ava’s Perspective

The next morning, I was dragged into the Morgan family’s living room and forced to kneel on the hard floor. A slender cane cracked across my back, each strike sharp enough to burn, then leave me numb. After only a few blows, I felt the skin split.

Strike after strike, the pain blurred into one long burn.

By the time my body started to go numb, the woman on the sofa finally raised her hand. “Stop.”

I sucked in a breath, my jaw unclenching, the taste of blood filling my mouth where I’d bitten down too hard. Sweat soaked through my hair, clinging to my face, but my foster mother’s expression didn’t waver.

“Do you know what you did wrong?” she asked coldly.

My voice came out hoarse. “I know, Mother. I shouldn’t have defied my husband.”

Her lips curled into a sneer. “Remember this, Ava—every move you make reflects on the Morgan family. The Church watches us closely. If you dare embarrass me again, you know exactly what the consequences will be.”

She tapped the cane against the floor. “As punishment, you will kneel here for the entire afternoon. And you are forbidden from stepping inside the villa for one month.”

My chest tightened. A whole month? I couldn’t risk it. Panic forced words out of my mouth. “Mother, last month I didn’t go see my brother because of the engagement. Please… this month, let me visit him. I beg you.”

She looked down at me from the sofa, her gown smoothed neatly over her lap, her hair pulled so tight it sharpened every cold line of her face. Her silence was worse than her scolding. My body shook under her stare.

She didn’t need to remind me—I already knew. If it weren’t for my face, if it weren’t for their need to marry me off, I’d be long dead.

Because I wasn’t a real Morgan daughter.

I was born into another family, the daughter of an arms dealer. Back then, I was loved. Cherished. Until the mafia stormed our home and wiped out everything. To save my brother Jasper, still lying unconscious in a hospital bed, I sold myself to the Church’s agency. They dressed me up and handed me to Bill, their chosen groom, and the money went straight into Jasper’s treatment.

That was the trade. My body for his life.

But here—here I’d only found another kind of hell.

If my foster mother could beat me bloody just for talking back to Bill, what would she do if she ever discovered what happened between Alexander and me?

She’d kill me herself.

At last, she gave a slight wave of her hand. “Go. Remember your place.”

“Yes, Mother,” I whispered, bowing my head. My legs were shaking as I tried to stand.

But I didn’t make it two steps before another voice stopped me. Bill’s mother leaned against the doorway, smiling faintly.

“Ava,” she said, her tone sweet but empty, “help the maids set up for tonight’s party.”

My knees still ached, and my back stung with every breath, but I forced a nod. “Yes, Mother.”