006

Ava

The engagement announcement hit the internet before the sun even rose.

I woke up in the guest room of Roman’s mansion to my phone exploding with notifications. News sites, gossip blogs, social media—every single one of them was screaming the same headline:

Roman Vale Engaged to Ex-Sister-in-Law After Scandalous Gala Proposal

There were photos of the ring on my finger. Photos of Roman’s arm around my waist. Photos of Tristan’s furious face in the background.

I sat up slowly, the diamond still heavy on my hand. It felt like a brand.

A soft knock came at the door. One of the housekeepers stepped in with a tray of coffee and toast, eyes carefully lowered.

“Mr. Vale requested you join him for breakfast in the main dining room, Mrs. Vale.”

Mrs. Vale.  

The title still felt foreign and sharp.

I dressed in simple black trousers and a silk blouse—one of the few things I had left that still felt like me—and walked downstairs.

Roman was already seated at the long table, reading something on his tablet. He looked up when I entered, those dark eyes unreadable.

“You’re late.”

“I didn’t realize we had a schedule,” I replied, taking the seat across from him.

He set the tablet down. On the screen I could see the same headlines I had just read.  

“The media is having a field day. Tristan’s team is already trying to spin it.”

I poured myself coffee, keeping my voice steady. “Let them. I don’t care what they say.”

Roman watched me for a long moment. “Good. Because from this point on, every move we make is public. People will watch how you walk, what you wear, how you look at me. You need to play the part of a woman who is happy to be mine.”

I met his gaze. “I can pretend.”

A faint smirk touched his lips. “We’ll see.”

After breakfast, a team arrived—stylists, a personal shopper, and Roman’s lawyer. By noon my wardrobe had been completely replaced. Elegant, expensive, and carefully chosen to make a statement. Every dress, every pair of heels screamed Roman Vale’s wife.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror in the walk-in closet, staring at my reflection in a deep emerald dress that hugged every curve.

Roman appeared behind me in the mirror, hands in his pockets.

“You look like you belong here,” he said quietly.

I didn’t answer.

He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body. “The movers will bring the rest of your things later today. Anything left at Tristan’s house is already being retrieved.”

“I don’t have much left,” I said.

“I know.” His voice was low. “That’s why everything you need will be provided from now on.”

I turned to face him. “I don’t want to be dependent on you.”

“You already are,” he replied without hesitation. “That was part of the deal.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of arrangements. Contracts were reviewed again. A new phone was given to me with only approved contacts. Security was assigned—two silent men who would follow me whenever I left the property.

By evening, the reality of my new life had settled over me like a heavy coat.

I was standing on the balcony of my new bedroom when my phone buzzed.

Tristan.

I almost didn’t answer. Then I did.

“What do you want?”

His voice was tight with barely controlled rage. “You married my brother? Are you out of your fucking mind, Ava?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” I said calmly. “You threw me away. Don’t act surprised that someone else picked me up.”

“He’s using you.”

“And Mia wasn’t using you?” I let out a short, cold laugh. “At least Roman is honest about what he wants.”

There was a long silence. Then Tristan spoke again, quieter, more poisonous. “You’re going to regret this. Both of you.”

I ended the call without answering.

A moment later, Roman stepped out onto the balcony beside me, as if he had been listening the entire time.

“He called,” he stated.

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“That we’re going to regret this.”

Roman’s expression didn’t change, but something dark flickered in his eyes. “He’s right about one thing. He will regret it. You, however…” He turned his head and looked at me. “You will get everything you want.”

I stared out at the city lights. “And what do you want, Roman?”

He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, “An heir. And to watch my brother lose everything that ever mattered to him.”

The same two things he had told me from the beginning.  

No softness. No emotion. Just cold, clear purpose.

I nodded slowly. “Then we have a long year ahead of us.”

Roman’s hand came up and brushed a strand of hair away from my face, the touch brief but deliberate.

“Yes,” he murmured. “We do.”

He left me alone on the balcony after that.

I stayed there until the night air turned cold, the diamond ring catching the light every time I moved my hand.  

I was no longer Ava, the discarded wife.  

I was Ava Vale.  

And for the next year, I would play the part perfectly.