Mag-log inBy seven the next evening, I had changed outfits four times.
I hated myself for caring this much.
It wasn't a date.
It wasn't even my dinner.
It was my mother's engagement dinner with a man I'd never met.
A man who happened to be one of the richest people in the country.
And apparently, my future stepfather.
I stood in front of the mirror wearing a black dress my mother had bought for me months ago and never once asked about.
It was elegant.
Simple.
The kind of dress that made me look like I belonged in rooms I had never been invited into.
I turned sideways.
The back was mostly covered.
Good.
My mother's warning from the night before came back to me.
"Alexander notices everything."
I didn't know why that sentence had stayed with me.
I picked up my purse before throwing my vibrator and lube inside.
Just because i was meeting them didn't mean i was going to stop my life .
The gifts had covered my rent and groceries, but the tuition was lagging and i needed to clear it.
My phone buzzed.
I glanced at the screen.
A notification from my private account.
Anonymous had sent another gift.
I stared at it.
He'd been unusually active since yesterday.
Another message appeared.
Beautiful.
I swallowed.
I should have felt flattered.
Instead, I felt uneasy.
I locked my phone and shoved it into my purse.
Tonight wasn't about him.
Tonight was about Alexander Black.
The man who was about to marry my mother.
The restaurant was the kind of place I would normally walk past without even looking at the menu.
The entrance alone probably cost more than my monthly rent.
A valet opened the car door.
I stepped out and immediately spotted my mother.
She was standing beneath a chandelier, wearing a designer gown that probably cost more than everything in my apartment combined.
She looked happy.
No.
She looked victorious.
She rushed toward me.
"You came."
"You told me to."
She looked me up and down.
Then frowned.
"Your dress is fine."
"Thank you."
"Turn around."
I sighed.
"Mom."
"Just turn around."
I did.
She inspected the back of my dress.
"Good."
I rolled my eyes.
"You've been obsessed with my back since yesterday."
"I told you Alexander notices things."
"He's a billionaire, not a detective."
She gave me a strange look.
"You'd be surprised."
Before I could respond, she reached for my arm.
"Come on."
We walked inside.
The room was filled with people who looked like they had never checked the price of anything in their lives.
Men in tailored suits.
Women covered in diamonds.
Waiters carrying champagne.
Everything smelled expensive.
I immediately felt out of place.
Then my mother whispered,
"He's here."
I followed her gaze.
And forgot how to breathe.
Alexander Black stood near the far end of the room.
I had seen photographs of him before.
Photographs hadn't prepared me.
He was taller than I expected.
Broad shoulders.
Dark hair.
A perfectly tailored black suit.
His expression was calm, almost unreadable.
He wasn't smiling.
He didn't need to.
People moved around him like he was the center of gravity.
Then his eyes lifted.
They found mine.
And stayed there.
Something strange happened inside my chest.
I looked away first.
Absolutely not.
This was my mother's fiancé.
My future stepfather.
I couldn't be attracted to him.
That would be insane.
"Alexander," my mother called.
He turned toward her.
His expression softened.
He walked over.
My mother immediately slipped her arm through his.
"Alexander, this is my daughter, Ava."
His eyes moved to me.
Slowly.
Carefully.
I extended my hand.
"It's nice to meet you."
He looked at my hand for half a second before taking it.
His grip was firm.
Warm.
"Ava."
The way he said my name made me look at him.
"What?"
"Nothing."
He released my hand.
But he didn't stop looking at me.
My mother smiled.
"Isn't she beautiful?"
"Yes."
The answer came too quickly.
I noticed.
So did my mother.
A strange silence followed.
Alexander cleared his throat.
"I mean, you look very nice."
"Thank you."
He nodded.
Then his eyes flickered briefly toward my shoulder.
My stomach tightened.
I instinctively adjusted my dress.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Recognition?
No.
Impossible.
He had never seen me before.
At least, not like this.
"Have we met?" he asked.
My heart stopped.
"What?"
He stared at me.
"I said, have we met before?"
I forced a laugh.
"No."
His gaze remained on me.
"You're sure?"
"Pretty sure."
My mother laughed.
"Alexander, you haven't met her before."
He finally looked away.
"You're right."
But something about his expression told me he wasn't convinced.
Dinner was worse.
Or better.
I couldn't decide.
Alexander kept asking me questions.
What was I studying?
What year was I in?
Did I enjoy university?
What did I do in my free time?
Normal questions.
Except he listened too carefully.
Most wealthy people I'd met barely listened when someone spoke.
Alexander remembered everything.
When I mentioned a subject I hated, he remembered it twenty minutes later.
When I said I preferred coffee to wine, he quietly asked the waiter to bring me coffee.
When I mentioned that I hated crowded places, he moved his chair slightly so I had more space.
It was irritating.
Because I noticed.
And the more I noticed, the more attractive he became.
I hated that.
My mother, meanwhile, looked happier than I'd seen her in years.
She kept touching his arm.
Laughing at everything he said.
Watching the other guests watch her.
This was exactly what she wanted.
The name.
The status.
The attention.
She wasn't marrying Alexander Black because she needed his money.
She was marrying him because she wanted his world.
I looked across the table.
Alexander was staring at me again.
I quickly looked down.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
I nearly choked on my coffee.
My mother laughed.
"Alexander!"
"What?"
"You can't ask her that."
"Why not?"
I wiped my mouth.
"No."
He tilted his head.
"No?"
"No boyfriend."
"Why?"
I shrugged.
"Because I don't."
His eyes held mine.
"Interesting."
I frowned.
"What's interesting about it?"
"Nothing."
There was something about the way he said it.
Like he was comparing me to something he already knew.
My phone buzzed inside my purse.
I ignored it.
It buzzed again.
Then again.
I finally glanced down.
My private account.
Anonymous.
Another message.
I miss you.
My stomach flipped.
I immediately locked the screen.
Across the table, Alexander was watching me.
"Everything okay?"
"Fine."
He didn't look convinced.
Neither was I.
Later that evening, my mother disappeared with some of her friends.
I stepped outside for air.
The terrace overlooked the city.
I rested my hands against the railing.
"Beautiful view."
I turned.
Alexander.
Of course.
"Yeah."
He walked toward me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he stopped beside me.
"You don't like me."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"You've barely spoken to me all evening."
"You're marrying my mother."
"And?"
"And that's weird."
He smiled slightly.
"Fair."
I laughed despite myself.
He looked at me.
Really looked at me.
Then his expression changed.
His gaze dropped toward my back.
I immediately became aware of the small strip of exposed skin above my dress.
His eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"I noticed something."
My heart began pounding.
"What?"
He looked at me for another second.
Then he shook his head.
"Nothing."
He turned away.
I frowned.
"Alexander."
He stopped.
"What?"
"What did you notice?"
He looked back at me.
For a moment, his expression was almost disturbed.
Then he said quietly,
"I thought I recognized something."
My stomach dropped.
"From where?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he smiled faintly.
"Goodnight, Ava."
He walked back inside.
I stood there watching him disappear.
My phone buzzed.
I pulled it from my purse.
Another anonymous message.
This time, only four words.
I know that mark.
My blood ran cold.
I stared at the screen.
Then slowly looked through the glass doors toward Alexander.
He was standing inside.
Looking directly at me.
He couldn't know anything ,he was just trying to assert dominance i assured myself as i moved to my assigned room .
AVATen Years LaterSpring sunshine spilled across the dashboard as Alexander drove toward the correctional facility. Beside him, I watched the trees lining the road burst into fresh green, while our nine-year-old daughter, Amara, and seven-year-old son, Nathaniel, argued cheerfully in the back seat.Today, my mother was coming home.“Will Grandma live with us?” Nathaniel asked.“No, sweetheart,” I replied. “She has her own house.”“Does she have a garden?”“A very lovely one.”“Can I plant strawberries?”Alexander glanced at me. “I see we have already planned her entire retirement.”I laughed. “Someone has to.”Amara leaned forward between the seats. “Are you nervous about seeing Grandma?”I considered the question.“A little.”I had visited Maria regularly throughout her ten-year sentence. Our conversations had begun awkwardly, with old grievances hovering between us. Over time, however, she had stopped blaming everyone else for her misfortunes. She began asking about my life, my wo
My eyes filled.Bella appeared behind me in the mirror.“Hey.”I wiped my cheeks carefully.“I'm fine.”She smiled.“I know.”She rested her chin against my shoulder.“You look beautiful.”I looked at her.“Thank you.”“No, seriously. You look like you stepped out of a magazine.”I laughed.“Now you're ruining it.”“I'm trying to make you smile.”She kissed my cheek.“You don't know how happy I am for you.”My throat tightened.“I know.”She smiled.“And if you cry, I'm crying, so please consider the consequences.”I burst out laughing.It saved us both.Downstairs, Alexander stood beside the officiant beneath an arch of white roses and flowering branches.He wore a black suit tailored to perfection, with an ivory boutonnière pinned to his lapel. His hair had been carefully arranged, and his expression was composed enough to suggest he was attending a business negotiation.Then I learned that he had asked the planner three times whether I was ready.Apparently, composure had its limit
AVAWould you prefer to interrogate me first?”“Yes.”He smiled.“Tomorrow, then.”I groaned.He took my hand and led me toward the balcony.The city stretched beneath us, sparkling in the evening light. Somewhere below, traffic moved along the avenues, and the first stars had appeared above the rooftops.He stood behind me, his arms encircling my waist.“Are you happy with the preparations?”“Yes.”“Not overwhelmed?”“Only slightly.”He kissed my temple.“You can change anything you want.”“I know.”“Even the venue.”“I know.”“Even the flowers.”I turned in his arms.“Alexander, if you offer me one more opportunity to change the flowers, I will personally arrange them around your neck.”He laughed.Then his expression softened.“I want the day to feel like yours.”I touched his face.“It will.”“Are you certain?”“Yes.”I rose onto my toes and kissed him.“Because I'm choosing it.”He held me a little tighter.For several moments, neither of us spoke.Then Bella shouted from inside,
AVABy the time winter finally loosened its grip on New York, my wedding had become a matter of international concern.At least, that was how Bella described it.“You cannot possibly expect me to believe you've chosen peonies without consulting me.”I held the phone away from my ear and stared at the floral arrangements spread across the dining table.“Bella, you are in my apartment.”“Exactly. Which means you have no excuse for making unilateral decisions.”Mia, who was kneeling beside two enormous boxes of invitation samples, lifted her head.“She has a point.”“You have been here for less than six hours,” I reminded her.“And already I've discovered that your wedding planner is trying to put you in a dress that looks like expensive curtains.”I turned toward the sample photographs.The dress in question was perfectly lovely. It simply wasn't what I wanted.Suzyy emerged from my bedroom carrying a garment bag.“Have you considered telling them that you actually like the dress?”“I d
AVAHis smile vanished.“No.”He took my hand.“I would never ask you to trust me with your freedom lightly.”The seriousness in his voice disarmed me.I nodded.“Then where are we going?”He kissed my forehead.“Pack nothing. Everything you need is waiting.”I stared at him.“That's not an answer.”“It's the only one you're getting.”By late afternoon, we were aboard his private jet.I had protested when he refused to tell me our destination, but my resistance had crumbled somewhere between the courthouse and the airport, largely because Alexander had looked so unbearably pleased with himself that I wanted to discover what he was planning simply to stop him from enjoying the mystery.The cabin was luxurious without being ostentatious, with cream leather seats, polished wood, and wide windows through which the clouds stretched like pale silk.I sat across from him, watching as he poured me a glass of water.“Are you going to tell me now?”“No.”I sighed.“Do you realise how irritating
AVAThe days passed in ablur ,my mother was still in remand .But after months the day of her judgement was here .The weather was gloomy clearly reflectig the fate awaiting her.Rain streaked the windows of the courthouse, blurring the buildings beyond it into indistinct silhouettes. Reporters had gathered beneath the stone portico long before our arrival, their cameras poised, their microphones ready, their appetites sharpened by the prospect of watching a wealthy woman's life collapse in public.I stepped out of the car and immediately regretted not bringing an umbrella.Alexander emerged beside me, his hand settling against the small of my back.“Stay close.”I glanced at him.“I'm not the one facing ten years in prison.”His expression remained sober.“I'm aware.”“Then stop looking as though you intend to escort me through a war zone.”“Given your family history, I'm not ruling it out.”I laughed despite myself.He looked pleased with the result.The last several months had b







