003: No Love, Just War

"Marry me."

I almost dropped the folder. "What… is this some kind of joke?

"An eighteen-month contract marriage." He said it like he was proposing a business deal, not marriage. "You become Mrs. Adams. Get unlimited access to all my resources. We take down everyone who betrayed you together. In exchange, you help me dismantle the Hale and Hart empires from the inside."

"You're insane."

"I'm practical." He stood. "Right now, you have nothing. No money. Your accounts are probably frozen. Your father made sure of that. No home. No family. No job. Nothing."

I hadn't even thought about the accounts. "Shit."

"Exactly. So you have two options." He walked to the window, his back to me. "Go back. Beg them to take you back. Accept whatever scraps they're willing to give you and spend the rest of your life being the woman who got replaced at her own wedding."

"Or?"

"Or marry me. Let me teach you how to destroy people the right way. You teach me everything you know about the Hales and Harts. And together, we burn their entire world down."

For a second or two, I didn’t know what to say. "This is crazy," I finally said.

"This is strategic." He turned to face me. "Eighteen months. After that, we divorce, split assets, and go our separate ways. No love. No expectations. Just business."

"No expectations? We just had sex!"

"And we could do it again if that's part of the arrangement you want." His voice lacked any emotion. "But don't mistake physical attraction for emotion. You're not going to fall in love with me, Ava. And I'm sure as hell not going to fall in love with you."

The bluntness stung more than it should have. "You're really something."

"I'm honest. Which is more than your family ever was." He pulled out a contract. "Read it. Take your time. But decide quickly. My offer expires when you walk out that door."

I stared at the contract on the bed.

"What do you get out of this?" I asked. "Besides revenge?"

"Justice for my father. And the satisfaction of watching the Hales fall." He looked at me. "But mostly, I get to watch you become exactly what you were always supposed to be."

"Which is?"

"Dangerous."

I picked up the contract with shaking hands. It was detailed… exactly all he had said with some extra legal jargons.

"If I sign this," I said slowly, "what happens?"

"We get married. Quietly. Then we start dismantling everything they built on your back. I teach you corporate warfare. You give me insider information. And together, we destroy them."

"This is insane."

"Then walk away." He gestured toward the door. "I'll call you a car. You can go find a hotel, figure out your next move. And we never speak again."

I looked at the contract. At the door. At Dominic Adams standing there like he didn't care which choice I made.

"They thought I was nothing without them," I whispered.

"Prove them wrong."

My hand shook as I picked up the pen. My father's voice echoed in my head: "You're strong, Ava. You'll survive this."

He said it like my pain didn't matter… like I was just a tool to be used and discarded.

"Where do I sign?"

Dominic pointed to three places on the contract, and I signed each one.

He took the contract, glanced at my signatures, and set it aside like we'd just closed a real estate deal. "Done."

"That's it?"

"That's it." He walked to his desk and pulled out a black card. "This is yours. Unlimited. Buy whatever you need."

I took it, staring at the gold design on it. "Just like that?"

"Just like that." He added a key to the pile. "East wing is yours. I'm in the west. We maintain appropriate distance."

"Distance? We just…"

"Had sex. Yes." He cut me off. "Which was a one-time occurrence unless we mutually agree otherwise. This is a business arrangement, Ava. Not a marriage in any real sense."

The coldness should have bothered me. Instead, it was almost refreshing after a lifetime of fake warmth.

"What happens now?"

"Now, you rest. Tomorrow, your education begins." He checked his watch. "I have meetings all day. There's food in the kitchen. Don't leave the penthouse."

"Why not?"

"Because the second you step outside, every camera in Manhattan will be on you." He moved toward the door. "And you're not ready for that yet."

"When will I be ready?"

"When you stop looking like a victim." He paused at the door. "I'll be back this evening. We have work to do."

Then he was gone.

I sat there in his shirt, holding a black card and a key to a stranger's penthouse, wondering what the hell I'd just signed my life away for.

—

Dominic returned at 7 PM with takeout and a phone. "Eat," he said, setting the food on the counter. "Then we make the first move."

"What first move?"

He handed me the phone. "Call your father."

I stared at it. "Why would I do that?"

"Because the first rule of revenge is making them think you're broken." He leaned against the counter. "They need to believe they won. That you're desperate and alone."

"I'm not begging him for anything."

"Yes, you are. Because when he rejects you, he'll get careless. He'll think you're not a threat." His eyes were cold. "Trust me."

Everything in me resisted making this move he was suggesting. But I'd signed the contract. This was the game now.

I dialed my father's number; he answered on the second ring. “Dad?” I started, hoping I sounded unsure to him.

"Ava."

"Dad, I…" I forced my voice to shake, hating every second of it. "I made a mistake. Walking out like that. I'm sorry."

"You embarrassed this family."

"I know. I know, and I'm… I’m so sorry." The words tasted like poison. "I just... I need to come home. I need my job back. Please."

"Your job?" He let out a cruel laugh. "You think you can throw a tantrum at your own wedding and just waltz back into Hale Industries?"

"Dad, please. I have nowhere to go. No money. I'll do anything…"

"You should have thought of that before you humiliated us in front of three hundred people and every camera in Manhattan." His voice went ice cold. "You made your choice, Ava. Live with it."

"Please, I…"

The line went dead.

I stared at the phone and my hands which were shaking. Not from fear, but from pure, white-hot rage.

"Good," Dominic said, taking the phone from me. "Perfect, actually. You sounded genuinely desperate."

"I feel like I'm going to be sick."

"That means it worked." He opened the takeout containers. "He thinks you're broken now. Tomorrow night, we show him exactly how wrong he is."

"Tomorrow night?"

"There's a Hale family dinner. Private event at the estate. Your parents, Lily, Damien, a few key board members." He pulled up an invitation on his tablet. "We're going."

"We weren't invited."

"We will be. By tomorrow morning, they'll be begging us to attend." He showed me an email draft. "I'm sending this to your father in an hour. A formal request to discuss the terms of a potential investment in Hale Industries."

My stomach dropped. "You're going to invest in them?"

"No. I'm going to make them think I might." His smile was cold. "Your father is desperate for capital. The merger with Hart Enterprises is barely keeping them afloat. When the Butcher of Wall Street offers to meet, he won't refuse.

"And I just... show up? As your wife?"

"As my fiancée." He corrected me. "We'll announce our engagement at the dinner. In front of everyone who watched you get humiliated."

The thought made my heart race. "They'll lose their minds."

"Exactly." He leaned forward. "Tomorrow night, you walk into that house as someone they can't touch. Someone they can't control. Someone who has more power than they ever gave you credit for."

"What if they throw me out?"

"They won't. Because I'll be with you." His voice dropped. "And everyone in that room knows what happens to people who disrespect what's mine."

The possessiveness in his tone should have bothered me. Instead, it felt like an armour. "What do I wear?"

"Something that makes them choke," Dominic said. "I'll have options sent up in the morning."