004

Ava

A text came in at sunset from the same number.

Roman: You might want to wear something stunning. A car will pick you up at eight.

I stared at the message, my fingers gripping the phone tighter than necessary. This was insane. Why had I agreed to this? Why had I accepted an invitation from a man I barely knew—one whose name I hadn’t even learned until this morning when the hotel concierge mentioned it?

Roman.  

A powerful name. A commanding presence. A man whose touch had erased my pain for one reckless night.

But that was all it was supposed to be—one night.

And yet, here I was, standing in front of the vanity mirror, slipping into a dress I hadn’t worn since before my marriage crumbled. The deep red silk hugged my curves like a second skin, the thigh-high slit scandalous enough to turn heads. For once, I wanted to be seen. Not pitied. Not broken.

I inhaled sharply, pushing down the nerves. Who was Roman? And why had he sought me out again? I intended to find out.

Just then, the sound of a car hummed outside as I walked out. A man dressed in a black suit, looking like a bodyguard, stepped out and opened the door for me. I climbed in. In minutes we were moving, and by the time we arrived, I hadn’t even realized how fast the drive had gone.

The charity gala was held at one of the most exclusive halls in the city. The place was a masterpiece of glass chandeliers and gold-trimmed elegance. I stepped inside, my heels clicking against the polished marble, and felt the weight of a hundred gazes settle on me.

Let them look.

A waiter offered me a glass of champagne. I took it, lifting my chin as I scanned the crowd.

Until I saw him.

Roman stood near the bar, dressed in a tailored black suit that screamed money and power. He looked completely at ease, one hand in his pocket, his piercing gaze locked onto me the second I entered. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips.

My stomach tightened.

I forced my feet to move, weaving through the sea of glittering gowns and expensive cologne until I reached him.

“You clean up well,” I said, my voice steady.

“So do you,” he murmured, his eyes traveling over me in a way that sent a shiver down my spine.

I sipped my champagne, trying to ignore the way my pulse skipped under his scrutiny. “Why did you invite me?”

His expression shifted, but his smile didn’t waver. “I thought it was only fair,” he said smoothly. “Since I left before I could properly introduce myself that night.”

I swallowed. “So you’re Roman.”

He inclined his head. “And you, Ava.”

My grip on the glass tightened. “So you still know my name. I thought you would forget.”

“I made it a point not to.”

The intensity in his voice sent a thrill through me—one I wasn’t sure I liked.

“Why?” I asked.

His smirk deepened. “I don’t let interesting things slip away so easily.”

A spark of something dangerous flickered in his eyes, and for a moment I felt like a pawn on his chessboard—a piece he had carefully positioned.

Before I could press further, a burst of laughter rang through the room.

And then I saw them.

Tristan.  

And Mia.

Together.

Mia was draped over him like a second skin, her fingers tracing his chest possessively as if she hadn’t stolen him from me—as if I had never mattered.

The sight of them was like a blade to the chest. My breath hitched, fingers trembling around my champagne glass.

Roman noticed.

He leaned in, his voice a whisper against my ear. “Does it still hurt?”

I swallowed hard, hating that the answer was yes. But instead of admitting it, I turned my head slightly, our faces inches apart.

“No,” I lied.

Roman chuckled. “Liar.”

Minutes passed in a blur of small talk and forced smiles. Roman kept me close, his presence a steady anchor against the rising storm inside me. But the moment Tristan spotted us, I knew things were about to shift.

His eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he excused himself from Mia’s grasp and stalked toward us.

“Ava,” he greeted coldly, his gaze darting to Roman before settling back on me. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

I tilted my head, offering a mocking smile. “Why? Did you think I’d lock myself away and cry over you for decades?”

His lips pressed into a thin line.

Mia appeared at his side, her saccharine smile grating. “You look… lovely tonight, Ava.”

I ignored her. Instead, I turned to Roman, who had remained silent but watchful.

“You never told me how you know Tristan,” I said casually.

A muscle jumped in Tristan’s jaw.

Roman smirked. “I suppose it’s time for introductions then,” he said smoothly. Then, with a lazy confidence that sent my pulse racing, he slid his arm around my waist.

“Tristan is my younger brother.”

My stomach dropped.

The words tilted everything.

For a moment I thought I had misheard him.

“Your brother?”

Tristan stiffened.  

Mia’s eyes widened.

But Roman? He simply watched me, waiting for the realization to sink in.

I had slept with Tristan’s brother.

Oh. My. God.

I took a sharp step back, my breath coming too fast, too shallow.

Roman caught my wrist. “Breathe, Ava.”

I yanked my hand away, my mind racing. “You knew?”

His gaze didn’t falter. “Yes.”

I felt sick. “You knew, and yet you—”

“I didn’t plan it,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “But once I realized who you were, I think I saw an opportunity.”

My heart pounded. “Opportunity? Am I an opportunity? Is that why you invited me here?”

Anger surged through me, but Roman’s next words sent a chill down my spine.

“I despise Tristan.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the venom in his voice.

He took a step closer, his presence consuming. “And I know you do too.”

I clenched my fists. “That doesn’t explain why I’m here.”

A slow, deliberate smile spread across his lips. “No, but this will.”

He leaned in, his breath warm against my skin.

“Marry me.”

My world stopped.

“What?”

Roman’s gaze burned into mine. “Marry me,” he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. “For a year.”

I shook my head, staggering. “You’re insane.”

But he didn’t back down. “Give me a child, Ava.”

My pulse spiked. I parted my lips to speak—to argue, to refuse—but he wasn’t done.

“In return, you’ll get revenge on your ex-husband and best friend.”

The words hung between us, heavy, suffocating.

I stared at him, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. This was insanity. This was madness.

But… I looked at Tristan. At Mia. They had no idea what Roman had just whispered to me.

And f

or the first time, revenge tasted sweeter than fear.

Roman’s voice rose a little higher now, coaxing, irresistible.

“What do you say, Ava?”

The world held its breath.