Chapter 5: The First Public Lie

Ava hadn’t even unpacked when the storm hit.

Not a literal storm though, judging by the way the sky had begun to gray outside, it could’ve been. No, this was the kind of storm that arrived dressed in a tuxedo, carrying secrets and expectations in its wake.

She was still struggling to figure out the high-tech shower, pressing random buttons and gasping as jets of cold water shot from the side walls, when a sharp knock echoed against the door of the guesthouse. It wasn’t really a knock more like a single, firm tap of authority. Then the door opened without hesitation.

Grayson stood there in a tailored navy suit, crisp white shirt unbuttoned just enough to look casually expensive. His eyes scanned the room, then landed on her wrapped in a towel, dripping wet, half-lost in a bathroom that looked like something out of a luxury magazine.

“We need to leave. Now,” he said, tone clipped and urgent.

Ava blinked, tightening her towel and stepping back a bit. “Um. Come again?”

“There’s a charity dinner tonight. We’re expected to make an appearance together.”

“I just moved in,” she said incredulously, water still dripping down her arms.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “And now you’re my wife. Time to act like it.”

She opened her mouth to argue then closed it. There wasn’t time. Grayson had already turned and disappeared, leaving the door open behind him like a command.

Exactly ten minutes later, Ava stood in the middle of her room, zipped into a gown she hadn’t packed. Someone she didn’t even know who had laid it out neatly on the bed. The dress was black satin, floor-length, and hugged her like it had been made for her. With it came heels that looked dangerously expensive, and a diamond bracelet that sparkled too brightly to feel real. There wasn’t a tag in sight, which somehow made it worse.

She stared at herself in the mirror for a long second. The girl in the reflection didn’t look like someone who grew up sharing a room with two siblings. She looked polished, poised… like she belonged.

But the nerves in her stomach said otherwise.

She stepped into the hallway, heart thudding in her chest, only to find Grayson already waiting in the living room, scrolling on his phone. He looked up and paused.

For a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Or approval.

“You clean up well,” he said, his voice low and unreadable.

“And you sound surprised,” Ava replied, lifting her chin.

“Don’t ruin it,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

The drive downtown was quiet but charged. Neither of them spoke much, yet Ava could feel the tension humming between them like a wire stretched too tight.

The hotel stood tall, all glass walls and glowing chandeliers visible from the outside. As they pulled up to the entrance, the crowd swarmed. Paparazzi, journalists, fans they all turned at once, like sharks sensing blood.

Ava clutched her clutch tighter.

“Smile,” Grayson murmured, offering his arm without looking at her.

She hesitated only a second before looping her arm through his, leaning close. Her face stretched into a practiced smile she’d seen influencers wear. The camera flashes hit instantly.

“Grayson! Is that your wife?”

“When did the wedding happen?”

“Who is she?”

“Are you in love?”

“Are you expecting a baby?”

The questions fired like bullets.

Ava leaned into him, turning slightly toward the press. “Let them guess,” she whispered through her smile, every syllable coated in charm.

Inside, it was worse.

The air felt too clean. The floors too polished. And the people? They all looked like they belonged on the covers of magazines. Cold, curated perfection.

Grayson’s father was there broad-shouldered, silver-haired, with eyes like ice. And standing not far from him, sipping from a flute of champagne, was a redhead in a crimson dress that left very little to the imagination.

The ex.

Of course.

“Dad,” Grayson said with a nod of formal respect. “This is Ava. My wife.”

The man’s gaze swept over Ava like a scanner, taking in everything from her cheap earrings to the gown that probably fooled no one.

“Wife?” he repeated, the word laced with doubt and disdain.

Ava smiled sweetly. “So nice to finally meet you, sir. Grayson talks about you all the time.”

Grayson choked slightly, barely covering it with a cough.

And just when she thought the worst had passed, she heard them. The whispers.

“That’s her?”

“She doesn’t even come from money.”

“Must be a publicity stunt.”

“Why else would he marry someone like that?”

The words slithered through the room, wrapping around her like invisible chains.

Then Vanessa stepped into their path, like a scene straight out of a soap opera. Tall, stunning, confident. Her lips curled into something that was almost a smile.

“Grayson Wolfe,” she said in a honeyed voice that made Ava’s skin crawl. “Didn’t think you’d show up with… a plus one.”

Grayson’s expression hardened. “Vanessa.”

Ava stepped forward before he could say more, forcing a smile so bright it nearly hurt. “Hi! I’m Ava Wolfe. Wife. Officially.”

Vanessa’s eyes barely flicked to her left hand. No ring.

“Oh, how lovely,” Vanessa said with a syrupy sweetness. “Grayson always did have a thing for strays.”

A silence fell between them.

Grayson’s hand on her waist tightened ever so slightly a small, silent apology.

But Ava wasn’t going to be pitied.

She smiled wider, stepping closer, voice smooth as silk. “Oh, I’m definitely a stray,” she said sweetly. “But this stray sleeps in a king-sized bed now. With your ex.”

Vanessa blinked. Stunned. Maybe even wounded.

So did Grayson.

The tension was electric.

“Babe,” Ava said suddenly, turning to him with faux affection. Her voice dropped into a low, coaxing whisper. “Kiss me.”

His brows twitched. “Are you serious?”

She smiled, eyes daring him. Do it.

He leaned in, warm breath ghosting over her lips before his mouth brushed hers. Light at first. Gentle. But then something shifted. The kiss deepened slightly, his hand resting on her lower back, drawing her in as if they weren’t faking anything at all.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like that.

It wasn’t supposed to steal her breath.

But it did.

The flashbulbs burst around them, capturing the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Vanessa was gone. The whispers had turned into stunned silence. Somewhere in the distance, a camera clicked again.

Grayson looked down at her, expression unreadable.

And Ava’s heart was hammering against her ribs, like it didn’t understand what was real and what was scripted.

Later, back in the car, the silence stretched between them, thick with the memory of that kiss.

Grayson finally broke it, eyes focused on the road ahead. “That was… bold.”

Ava turned her gaze to the dark window, her reflection staring back at her. “We’re married. Isn’t that what people expect?”

His hands flexed on the steering wheel. “Just… don’t make this harder than it already is.”

She smiled faintly, the city lights reflecting in her eyes. “I thought I made it look easy.