Celebrating My First Victory

POV: Ava

The room didn't know what to do with itself after Dillan carried Sharon out. All that expensive perfume and tailored wool, all those important people shifting in their seats, pretending they hadn't just watched a woman fake a fainting spell to escape a presentation she couldn't give. I sat very still in the back row, my hands folded in my lap like a good little wife, and let the silence do its work.

Then Dominic stood.

He didn't look at me first. He walked straight to the stage, adjusted the microphone, and waited until every pair of eyes in the room had found him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice carrying easily through the space, "I apologize for that unfortunate display. But I assure you, the contract signing continues tonight."

A murmur rippled through the crowd. I felt my own spine straighten.

"Keller Group didn't get where it is by walking away from good investments. And this project—" he paused, and now he did look at me, directly, deliberately, "—is worth far more than a failed demonstration."

He extended his hand toward me.

"Ava, would you join me on stage?"

My heart slammed against my ribs. Every head in the room turned. I saw the confusion, the curiosity, the whispered questions passing between executives who had never once noticed the quiet housewife in the back row.

I rose slowly, smoothing my dress, and walked toward him on legs that felt like they belonged to someone else. The walk felt endless. The room held its breath.

When I reached the stage, Dominic took my hand and helped me up the steps. His palm was warm and steady, and he didn't let go until I was standing beside him at the microphone.

"I'd like to introduce you all to Ava," he said. "The actual architect of the software you were supposed to see tonight."

The whispers got louder.

"Mrs. Cross?" someone asked. "As in—"

"As in Dillan's wife," I said, and my voice didn't shake. "And yes. I designed the entire platform. The architecture, the user interface, the security protocols. All of it." I let that sink in. "My husband has been presenting my work as his own for years. Tonight, I decided it was time to correct the record."

Dominic stepped back, giving me the floor, and I walked them through the project the way I'd always imagined I would someday. No slides, no demo, just my voice and the thing I'd built from nothing. I explained the architecture, the scalability, the market positioning. I answered their questions with a clarity that made several of them lean forward in their seats.

By the time I finished, the room was quiet in a different way. Dominic produced the contract from inside his jacket.

"I believe this needs a signature." He handed me a pen.

I signed my name in front of everyone, the ink dark and permanent against the page, and when I looked up, Dominic was watching me with something that looked dangerously close to pride.

"Congratulations, partner," he said quietly.

The room applauded. I stood there, the pen still in my hand, and felt the weight of ten years lift off my shoulders all at once.

I'd have to face Dillan and Sharon when I finally went home. But for now, I let myself have this. My moment to shine.

I left the venue alone.

Dominic offered to take me home. I declined, told him I was fine, that I just needed some air, that I'd see him at the office. He didn't believe me, I could see it in the way his jaw tightened. But he let me go.

I didn't go home.

I drove to a club on the other side of town, a place with pulsing bass and sticky floors and no one who knew my name. The kind of place Dillan would never set foot in. The kind of place where a woman could disappear into the crowd and drink until the edges of the night went soft.

This is exactly what I needed tonight, I thought. I won the first round. I actually outsmarted Sharon and Dillan. That's no small thing. I was quite impressed with my own performance.

I was three shots in when I saw him.

Dominic stood near the bar, still in his suit, looking completely out of place among the neon lights and the crowd. He was watching me with that same patient expression, like he'd known exactly where I'd end up before I did.

I pushed through the crowd toward him.

"You're my business partner now, Mr. Keller," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "We shouldn't be seen together in places like this."

He didn't flinch. "I'm only here to make sure my new partner doesn't end up in trouble in a place like this. I've invested a great deal in this project. I intend to see it succeed, not watch it fall apart on the first day."

"I'm not falling apart tonight, boss. I'm celebrating a win. Nothing more."

"Fine by me." He signalled the bartender. "Let's celebrate the partnership properly, then."

I stared at him a long moment, the alcohol already warming my blood, making me bold. "Fine. Since you won't leave, be my guest."

We found a private booth tucked away from the main floor and ordered good tequila, the kind that burned going down and left a warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

I drank faster than I should have.

The music changed, something low and heavy, and I felt it move through me. I closed my eyes and let my body sway to it, and when I opened them again, Dominic was watching me with an intensity that made my breath catch.

That look again. The one he'd been giving me since the moment we met, the one that made me forget, for whole stretches of time, that I'd come here to plot revenge and not to feel wanted.

Dillan had been unfaithful for ten years. One reckless night wouldn't make me anything I wasn't already entitled to.

I moved closer. The booth was small, intimate, and I let myself lean into him without pretending it was an accident. His hands settled at my waist, not pulling me in, not pushing me away, just holding me there like he was leaving the choice entirely to me.

I made it for him.

I kissed him.

His mouth was warm, tasted faintly of tequila, and he kissed me back slowly at first, like he was giving me every chance to change my mind, and then his hand came up to cup the back of my neck and the kiss deepened until the club, the noise, everything, blurred away around us.

We broke apart, both of us breathing harder than either of us wanted to admit.

"Ava," he said, his voice rough. "You're drunk."

"I know." I kissed him again, briefly. "I don't care."

"I'm trying to be a gentleman about this."

"Don't."

A low sound came out of him, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "You're making this very difficult."

"Good."

We stayed like that a while longer, close, unhurried, his mouth finding my jaw, my throat, and something in me that had been braced and armoured all day finally let itself soften.

"I should take you home," he murmured eventually, his forehead against mine.

"I don't want to go home."

"Then I'll take you to mine."

He helped me out of the booth, his arm steady around my waist, and guided me through the crowd toward the exit. The cool night air hit my face and made the whole evening spin gently, but his grip didn't loosen.

In the back of his car, city lights sliding past the windows, I let myself lean into him without any of the performance I'd been running all day, no strategy, no plan, just the simple, dizzying fact of being wanted by someone who'd never once asked me to be smaller for it.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he said quietly, against my hair.

"Tell me," I said, and let my eyes fall shut, and let the night carry the rest of it away from me for a little while.

I woke briefly to the sensation of being carried.

Dominic's arms were strong beneath me, his chest solid against my cheek. I heard a door open, footsteps on hardwood, the soft rustle of sheets as he laid me down on a bed that smelled like him.

"Sleep," he said quietly, and I felt his hand brush the hair back from my face.

I tried to say something, but the words wouldn't come. The night pulled me under again, warm and heavy, and I let it.

The last thing I heard was the sound of a shower running in another room.