004: Untouchable

~Ava's POV~

The next evening, I stood in front of the mirror, barely recognizing myself.

Dominic had sent a stylist earlier to glam me up, and she did a really grat job.

The dress was emerald green silk that hugged every curve before flowing to the floor. My hair was swept up, showing off the diamond earrings Dominic had included with the dress. And on my left hand was a blue diamond engagement ring that probably cost more than my parents' mortgage.

"Ready?" Dominic appeared in the doorway, looking devastating in a black suit.

"No."

"Good. Fear keeps you sharp." He held out his arm. "Let's go remind them who you are."

—

The Hart Recovery Gala was being held at the Metropolitan Club. It was a huge, very fancy, crawling with Manhattan's elite, and so many cameras eating up the even and feeding it to the media.

Our car pulled up, and I saw the red carpet, the photographers, and the crowd.

My stomach turned and I had to take in a deep breath.

"Second thoughts?" Dominic asked, staring at me with those intense eyes of his.

"Yeah,” I replied, not seeing the need to deny. “A million of them actually."

"Good. That means you're thinking." He turned to me. "Remember. We're not here to destroy them tonight. We're here to remind them you exist. And that you're not broken."

"What if they try to humiliate me again?"

"Then I'll remind them why people call me the Butcher." His voice was ice. "But they won't. Not with me beside you."

The door opened, and the assault from the camera flashes were instant. The paparazzi rushed at us, restricted by the velvet ropes strung across the red carpet.

"Oh my God… Is that Ava Hale?" one of them asked, straining to push her microphone as far as it could get.

"Who's the man with her?"

"Oh my God, that's the Butcher of Wall Street!"

“It’s Dominic Adams!”

Dominic helped me out of the car, placing his hand possessively on my waist. We walked the red carpet together, and I kept my chin up and my expression neutral.

"Mr. Adams! Mr. Adams!" A reporter shoved a microphone toward us. "We didn't expect to see you here tonight. What brings you to the Hart Recovery Gala?"

"Supporting my fiancée," Dominic said smoothly.

The reporter's eyes widened. "Fiancée? Are you saying…"

Another reporter cut in, shoving forward. "Miss Hale! Is it true? Are you and Dominic Adams involved?"

"Engaged," I said, surprising myself with how steady my voice sounded. "As of yesterday."

The crowd erupted.

"Engaged? It’s just been two, three days since your almost-wedding was interrupted."

"Miss Hale, how do you respond to…"

“Is this some kind of comeback…”

But before they could throw more questions at us, we were already inside.

The ballroom was packed when we walked in. I spotted my parents immediately, standing with the Hart family near the bar. Lily looked radiant in white. Damien looked... tired.

The ballroom was packed when we walked in. Crystal chandeliers lit up the hundreds of elegantly dressed guests. The air smelled of lilies and expensive perfume, and the low murmurs of conversation mixed with the soft music from the live string orchestra.

I spotted my parents immediately, standing with the Hart family near the bar. Lily looked radiant in white, and Damien looked... tired.

"They haven't seen us yet," I said quietly.

"They will." Dominic guided me further into the room. "But first, we make a different impression."

He led me toward a group of men in expensive suits. I recognized one immediately: Edward Hart, Damien's uncle and the CEO of Hart Enterprises.

"Mr. Hart," Dominic said smoothly. "Good to see you again."

Edward turned, saw Dominic, and his face lit up with that politician's smile. "Dominic! I didn't know you'd be attending." Then he saw me, and the smile faltered. "Ava Hale. I... wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Mrs. Adams, actually," I said, extending my hand while making sure the ring caught the light. "Or I will be soon."

Edward's eyes went wide. "You're engaged? To Dominic?"

"We are," Dominic said with a smile. "Ava's been telling me about some concerning trends in the market. Hart Enterprises' volatility is particularly interesting."

Edward's smile tightened. "We're managing the situation."

"Are you?" I tilted my head, channeling every ounce of confidence I didn't feel. "Because from what I've seen… public reports obviously, your Q3 projections don't account for the supply chain issues developing in your manufacturing division."

Edward blinked. "How do you know about that?"

"I spent five years working in corporate strategy," I said simply. "I pay attention to the tiniest detail."

Dominic's hand tightened slightly on my waist in approval.

"Well," Edward said, clearly uncomfortable, "we have it under control."

"I'm sure you do." I smiled. "It was lovely seeing you, Mr. Hart."

We walked away, leaving him staring after us.

"What was that?" I whispered.

"That," Dominic said, "was you reminding them you're not just a pretty face. You're someone who knows how their businesses work."

I nodded slowly, smiling at a couple who greeted as Dominic guided me toward the bar. "Champagne?"

"God, yes."

He ordered two glasses, and I took mine gratefully, letting the bubbles settle my nerves.

"You're doing well," he said quietly.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up."

"That's adrenaline. Use it." He took a sip of his own drink. "Edward Hart is already second-guessing himself. By tomorrow, he'll be wondering what else you know."

"Do I know more?"

"You will." His eyes scanned the room. "For now, just let them wonder."

I was about to respond when I felt someone's presence behind me.

"Ava?"

I turned.

Damien stood there, looking at me like he'd seen a ghost.

"Damien."

"You look..." He seemed genuinely stunned. "You look incredible."

"Thank you."

"Can we talk? Privately?"

"No," Dominic said before I could answer. "She's exactly where she needs to be."

Damien's eyes flicked to Dominic, then back to me. "So it's true? You're engaged to him?"

"I am."

"After three days? Ava, come on. This is crazy, even for…"

"Is it?" I cut him off. "You were sleeping with my sister for months before our wedding. I'd say three days is positively conservative."

His face flushed. "That's not fair."

"Fair?" I almost laughed. "We seriously want to talk about fair? Damien, you replaced me at the altar with my pregnant sister while I begged. So don't talk to me about fair."

"The situation was desperate—"

"And I wasn't?" My voice rose slightly, and a few heads turned. I lowered it. "I gave you five years, Damien. Five years of making you look good. Writing your reports. Fixing your mistakes. And you threw me away the second it was convenient."

"I…"

"Don’t even bother." I looked at him… like really looked at him, and felt... nothing. "Because it's not my problem anymore."

"Ava…"

"I believe we're done here," Dominic interrupted, his voice carrying an edge that made Damien take a step back.

Then, we walked away.

My hands were shaking, but I felt... powerful.

"You're trembling," Dominic said quietly, his hand moving from my waist to the small of my back.

"Adrenaline."

"Relaxx… I’m right here." His thumb traced a small circle against my spine, and suddenly I was back in his penthouse. His hands on my skin. His mouth on mine. The way he'd looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered.

I swallowed hard.

He leaned closer, his warm breath grazing my ear. "Breathe, Ava."

I did. Slowly. But I was very much aware of every point where his body was close to mine. The heat of his hand. The scent of his cologne. The way my heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with Damien.

"Better?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

His lips curved slightly like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

"Ava."

My mother's voice broke the moment like ice water.

I turned and saw her near the champagne fountain, my father beside her. Both of them looked at me with identical expressions of disapproval.

"We need to talk."