005 — The Morning After

Ava’s POV

The sun didn’t ease in that morning. It slashed through the curtains like a blade straight across my face. I winced before my eyes even opened. My head throbbed in rhythm with my pulse. It was as if someone had parked a drum kit inside my skull and hired a kid to go wild on it.  

I tried to swallow but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. The clock on the nightstand glowed in red: 11:47 a.m.  

Late in the morning.  

I pushed up on one elbow. The movement sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. The room tilted, came back to normal. The pillows and the silk sheets clung to my thighs, smelling of sweat and sex.  

One heel still dangled from my left foot. The other one lay across the room, kicked off near the dresser..  

My black, expensive silk dress was totally ruined. Half-zipped in the back, straps slipped down my arms like they’d given up. 

I then looked down in my body only to notice the bite marks. Not gentle or playful but dark, deliberate bruises scattered across my collarbone, my chest, and the tops of my boobs. Red rings circled my wrists and my skin, broken in places from the silk ties.  

Fuck!! Holy shit.

I sat up fully. Too fast. The world spun around me. My stomach lurched like I was on a boat in a storm.  

"Oh fuck. The psycho at the club."  

It started to come in flashes.  

Red lights pulsing like a heartbeat. The bass vibrating through the floor. His hand—rough, possessive and fisted in my hair. His voice, low and ruthless: “Suck it.”  

My throat stretching around him. The clamps biting into my nipples and the chain tugging with every breath. His cock driving into me deep, and relentless. Me screaming and begging for more.  

No.  

I clapped a hand over my mouth and stumbled out of my bed. My bare feet hit the cool hardwood. I bolted for the bathroom, knees slamming into the tile as I dropped in front of the sink.  

I gripped the counter. My reflection stared back.  The version of me that I saw was insane.

Mascara streaked down my cheeks in thick black rivers. Lips swollen, red, bitten. My neck—Holy crap—was covered in purple hickeys, blooming like bruises from a fight that  I’d lost on purpose.  

Leon.  

His face flashed behind my eyes. The altar, the white dress and the way he’d smiled at me like I was his salvation.  

“Clean slate, Ava. No more games. No more nights like before. Just us. You and me. Forever.”  

He held my fingers tight that day. His voice was soft. 

I promised.  

We both did.  

And now?  

Not even a year in and I’d broken it. What I hated the most is that I enjoyed every bit of it.  

I slid down the cabinet. My back hit the wood with a soft thud. I pulled my knees to my chest. The dress rode up. I didn’t fucking care.  

Tears came then. They rolled down my cheeks and dripped onto my thighs.  

What have I done?  

The door creaked open behind me.  

Mrs. Lin stood in the doorway. Her apron was twisted in her hands like she’d been wringing it. Her eyes went wide—then narrowed as she tried to read the room: the dress, the marks, the lone shoe on the floor, and me curled up like a broken doll.  

She shook her head slow. Disappointment was showcased like an artwork on every line of her face.  

“Oh! Crap, Ava. What did you do?”  

I couldn’t look at her. My voice cracked when I spoke. “I don’t know. I was… just a bit horny. It was supposed to be just a fun, night party. I didn’t mean for it to—”  

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her with a soft click. She crouched in front of me, tilted my chin with two fingers. Her thumb brushed one of the bruises on my neck—gentle, but I flinched anyway.  

“Who's the guy?”  

I shook my head. “Don’t know his name. I didn’t ask.”  

Her eyes searched mine. “You remember his face, don't you?”  

I closed my eyes. Tried to pull it up.  

Dark hair. Messy. Tattoos crawling up his arms, and across his chest. That dragon—coiled tattoo that was alive under the red light. His body—hard, and unforgiving.  

But his face?  

Blank.  

“His voice,” I whispered. “Like gravel. Very ruthless. Like he owned the whole damn room. That’s all I’ve got.”  

Mrs. Lin stood up with a heavy sigh. The kind that came from years of cleaning up my messes. “Stay out of clubs for now. For a long while. You hear me?”  

She dug into her apron pocket and tossed a small tube onto the counter. Arnica gel. “Cover those up. You’ve got lunch meeting to attend.”  

Lunch.  

My brain clicked into gear like an engine trying to turn over in the cold.  

“The HK heir. Leon’s best friend.”  

She nodded. “The one who missed the wedding. You're going to meet him at HK premises. Noon sharp. You have to start getting ready. You are already late as it is.”  

I glanced at the clock on the wall: 12:22 p.m.  

“Shit.”  

Mrs. Lin turned to leave. I grabbed her wrist—my fingers trembling around her thin bones. “Please. Don’t tell Leon. I don’t want to break his heart. I can’t—” My voice cracked up again. “Just keep it between us? Please?”  

She looked down at my hand, then at me. A short, sharp laugh escaped her like she’d heard this before. “Forget that mess, girl. Just get ready. You look like hell warmed over.”  

The door clicked shut behind her.  

I stared at the tube she gave me for the bruises.  

I dragged myself into the shower. Steam filled the room until I couldn’t see the mirror. I scrubbed hard until my skin turned pink and raw. The hickeys faded a little but not enough.  

I stepped out and wrapped a towel around myself. The mirror had fogged completely. I wiped a circle clear with my palm.  

Still me.  

But not.  

Makeup came next. I applied foundation, making sure that it was as thick as armor and concealer under my eyes to hide the exhaustion and the redness. Hair in loose waves that fell over my neck, hiding what it could.  

I opened the closet. Fingers trailed over dresses and stopped on one.  A black, backless tight gown, the kind that made men stare and women whisper. I slipped it on with a four inches heels.

I looked in the full-length mirror. I looked dangerous and polished as a billionaire wife, not like the girl who’d begged on silk sheets last night.  

But inside? I was still shaking.  

The elevator ride up to the lobby at HK felt endless. I clutched my bag like a lifeline. "Why do I even have to meet this guy anyways?" I muttered to myself as I stepped out of the elevator.

The lobby glittered under crystal chandeliers. The lounge area had plush velvet sofas arranged in a half-circle, all gold accents and low lighting.  

I spotted him from behind.  Broad shoulders filling out a dark suit. One leg crossed over the other and phone pressed to his ear.   

My steps faltered the moment I realized that the voice was similar to the one that tortured me last night.

He laughed into the phone. I clearly recognized that deep rumble. My knees nearly gave out.  

No.  

I forced myself forward. One foot in front of the other. The click of my heels echoed in the vast space.  

“Hi. I’m Ava.”  

He ended the call and lifted his head.  

My bag slipped from my fingers the moment our eyes locked.  

"What the—"