Chapter 4

AVA

I paced the hotel room like a caged animal. The curtains did little to shut out the Vegas sun, and the humming of the air conditioning was starting to feel like static in my head.

I needed to think. I needed to move. I needed… something.

I grabbed the phone beside the bed and hit the room service button. When they answered, I snapped, “Can someone lend me a phone? Please. I need to make a call. It’s urgent.”

Fifteen minutes later, a young woman knocked and handed me a basic cell. “Ten minutes,” she said. “Management’s rule.”

I dialed the only person I could trust, Noelle, my best friend.

“Ava?” she answered on the second ring. Her voice cracked with disbelief. “Oh my God. Where the hell have you been? Everyone’s been losing their minds. There’s police everywhere. Your parents,”

“I don’t care about them.” I cut her off. My voice was sharper than I intended. “Just… tell me what’s going on back home.”

Noelle exhaled slowly. “It’s chaos. Your dad's PR team is trying to bury the wedding scandal, but it’s everywhere. People are calling you the new Paris Hilton meets political pawn. Julian’s pretending like he was the victim. He said it was your fault he cheated on you.”

“Of course he did,” I muttered.

“Seriously, Ava… where are you?”

“I’m coming back. I’ll take the next flight to Manhattan.” I looked at the ring again and felt my stomach twist. “Can you pick me up from the airport?”

“I’ll be there. Please be careful. Everyone's watching.”

After the call ended, I took the longest, hottest shower of my life. I scrubbed off every trace of the night before, every touch, every kiss, every stupid tequila-soaked decision.

I stepped out and reached for the wrinkled, dirty wedding dress from yesterday, then froze.

Laid neatly across the chair was a folded pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black baseball cap. On top, pinned with a gold clip, was a note:

"Couldn’t let you face the world wearing that tragedy. Wear this instead. R.”

I stared at it, heat crawling up my neck. I snatched the note, crushed it in my fist. “Fuck you, Roman,” I muttered. “You owe me a goddamn explanation.”

Noelle’s car pulled up outside King Holdings, she shifted in the driver’s seat and looked at me, brows pinched in worry. “Ava, what are you trying to do?”

“I just want to talk to him.”

“You mean Roman King?” Her eyes widened. “Everyone knows he’s behind the leak. Are you seriously walking into his building? I hope you’re not about to do something impulsive.”

I didn’t answer right away. My hand was already on the door handle. “I’m not doing anything stupid. I just need answers.”

She gave me a long look, then sighed. “I don’t like this.”

“I know.” I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

Her gaze dropped suddenly, and she blinked. “Wait, what’s that?” She pointed to my hand.

I glanced down.

The ring was still there.

I curled my fingers, but it was too late.

“You’re wearing a cheap ring?” she gasped. “Ava, what the hell,”

I yanked it off quickly, stuffing it into my jacket pocket like it burned. “It’s nothing.”

“That’s not Julian’s engagement ring,” she said, stunned. “His was a diamond. What’s with the silver band?”

I didn’t answer.

Instead, I reached for her oversized sunglasses and slid them on, hoping to hide my face from the stares and judgment waiting outside. “Thanks for the ride,” I said.

“Ava,”

But I was already out the door.

—--

I stood on the sidewalk outside King Holdings. The wind tugged at my coat. The noise of midtown blurred around me.

And there he was.

Roman King. Staring down at me from a massive billboard on the side of the building—arms folded, expression smug.

My stomach twisted.

I reached into my pocket, pulled out the ring one last time, stared at it... then marched over to the nearest trash can and tossed it in without flinching.

I walked into King Holdings like I owned the place.

My hair was pulled into a loose knot, barely brushed. The T-shirt clung to my skin, and the borrowed sunglasses did little to hide the dark circles under my eyes. I looked tired. Worn thin. My face was bare, lips dry, and even with fresh clothes, I still felt like I was crawling out of the wreckage.

I looked like the chaos I’d just lived through.

The lobby was sleek and silent, the kind of place that whispered power and control. I stood out like a smudge on glass.

The receptionist glanced up. Her eyes scanned me, too fast, too curious. “Ma’am, he’s in a meeting,”

I didn’t stop.

One look at my face, and she didn’t try again.

Roman’s office was on the top floor. Quiet. Polished. Cold.

The elevator opened to glass walls and silence. From up here, the city looked small. Like it belonged to him.

Everything was clean, sharp. A sleek black desk. A strange metal sculpture in the corner. No warmth, no color. Just money and power..

He was sitting behind a massive glass desk, flipping through a folder like this wasn’t the aftermath of nuclear disaster.

When he looked up, his face was unreadable.

“Ava. I’ve been expecting you.”

I slammed the marriage certificate on his desk.

“You ruined my life,” I snapped. “Then you married me? Was that your plan all along?”

I stepped closer, my voice rising. “My father always said you were his worst enemy, but why drag me into his mess? Why humiliate me in front of the world? And you had the nerve to marry me without my consent?”

Roman didn’t flinch. He leaned back slightly in his chair. “Come on, Ava. Don’t say that. We were both drunk. You know I’m not the enemy here. Sit down. Let me explain.”

“Explain?” I barked, eyes blazing. “Start talking, Roman. Right now.”

He sighed and stood. “Yes, the leak was planned. I exposed your fiancé because I was trying to save you, from a man who never loved you, from a marriage that would’ve crushed you.”

“Save me?” I cut in, voice rising. “You lit the fuse and threw me into the fire!”

His mouth opened slightly, but I didn’t let him speak.

“And who the hell are you to decide that for me?” I snapped. “Who do you think you are, Roman? I knew Julian was cheating. I didn’t need your pathetic version of saving. I needed,” My voice cracked. “I needed to make my own damn decisions without being used as someone else’s weapon.”

“You were existing, Ava. Not living, or making decisions for yourself. I thought the truth would finally push you to take control.”

My throat tightened. Heat rushed to my face.

“You didn’t save me. You ruined me.” I took a shaky breath. “Now I’m a walking headline. A joke. A scandal. The entire world is laughing at me.”

Tears welled in my eyes, but I didn’t let them fall. 

“And the wedding?” I shot back, my voice sharp. “What was that? Another one of your strategies?”

He held my gaze. “The Vegas wedding… that was a mistake. A drunken, stupid mistake.”

“Bullshit.” I folded my arms tightly across my chest, my glare burning into him.

His jaw tensed, but he kept his voice steady. “You initiated the wedding, Ava. Don’t come in here trying to tear the roof down like I dragged you to that chapel.”

I blinked, caught off guard.

He stepped around his desk slowly. “You said, ‘Let’s get married, screw it.’ And I said okay. We were both drunk, reckless. But now the consequences are real. For both of us.”

My throat tightened. “What consequences are you talking about?”

Without a word, he picked up a remote and turned to the massive screen behind him. With a single click, the wall lit up, dozens of headlines flashing across it, one after the other. Photos from the chapel appeared among them, clear as day. Someone had captured everything.

RUNAWAY MORGAN HEIRESS MARRIES FATHER’S WORST ENEMY IN VEGAS!

ROMAN KING’S FINAL STRIKE – MARRIAGE OR MASTERPLAN?

AVA MORGAN: FROM SOCIETY’S SWEETHEART TO SCANDAL QUEEN

My heart dropped as the room blurred. I staggered back a step, a wave of nausea rising in my throat.

“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…” The words tumbled out like I could rewind time if I said them fast enough.

I turned to Roman, my eyes wild. “We have to annul it,” I choked out. “Now. This minute. Call your lawyer, anyone, I don’t care, just fix it!”

I started pacing, tugging at my hair, breathing too fast. “This can’t be happening. I can’t be married to you, I can’t,”

Roman stepped in front of me. “Ava,”

I tried to push past him, but he caught my arm gently, firmly. “Ava, look at me.”

I fought his grip at first, but he didn’t let go. “Look at me.”

When I finally did, my breathing was ragged. My chest was rising and falling like I’d just run a mile.

He kept his voice calm. “Annul it now, and everything spins out of control.”

I stared at him, still trembling.

“They’ll say I used you. That you had a breakdown. That you were unstable and I took advantage.” His voice tightened. “You’ll be the joke. Not me. You.”

I shook my head, but he kept going.

“Julian will run with that story. He’ll call you reckless, emotional. He’s already lining up interviews, Ava. He’ll bury you to protect himself.”

I blinked, stunned.

“If we stay married, at least we control the story. Two people who found each other after betrayal. Who made something real out of chaos. The press will eat that up. It buys us time.”

His voice dropped lower.

“But if we back out now? You become the unstable heiress. I become the predator. And everything your father did gets forgotten, because the spotlight will be on us instead.”

He took a deep breath.

“Or…” he said quietly, “we control the story. Together.”

I stared at him, confused, my breath still shaky.

Then, without another word, he slid a folder across the desk toward me.

“…sign this.”

I didn’t touch it. “What is it?”

“A one-year contract. You pretend to be my wife in public. After twelve months, we file for divorce quietly. Your reputation survives. So does mine.”

I opened the folder and started flipping through the pages. It didn’t feel like a contract between two people, it felt like instructions for a press conference. Cold. Distant.

One line jumped out at me:

Section 3: Public Displays of Affection (PDA) shall be limited to hand-holding and closed-mouth kisses on the cheek, only when media presence is confirmed.

My stomach turned.

I was about to turn the page when Noelle’s phone lit up beside me.

Dad.

Of course it was him.

I hesitated for a second, then answered.

“You idiot,” Edward snapped. “Do you even realize what you’ve done? The press has torn us apart. The board’s panicking. You’ve made a mockery of this family.”

“I wasn’t thinking straight, Dad,” I whispered.

“You think that excuses it?” His voice turned ice cold. “You married Roman King. The man who humiliated you. The man who’s spent years trying to destroy everything I built.”

He paused, then spoke slower, each word like a knife.

“If you don’t get that marriage annulled immediately, don’t bother coming home. You’ll be disowned. Publicly. And I’ll make sure your accounts, every last cent tied to this family, disappears.”

I couldn’t breathe.

The line went dead.

Moments later, a new alert popped up on the news screen.

Julian was on CNBC. Looking heartbroken. Polished.

The headline at the bottom of the screen read:

“CREST CEO CLAIMS EX-FIANCÉE IS UNSTABLE IN SHOCKING INTERVIEW”

“She’s unstable,” he said. “I tried to help her. I did everything I could.”

Then came the knife.

“I cheated… but it wasn’t intentional. She pushed me away. I didn’t recognize the woman I was about to marry.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Roman watched me quietly. “Still want an annulment?”

I didn’t answer right away. I looked down at the contract, then back at him.

I felt like I couldn’t breathe for a second. Everything that had happened, Julian, the wedding, the video, the headlines, my father’s threats, it all came crashing down again. And now this.

I was so damn tired.

Tired of being pushed around. Tired of being used by my father. If he hadn’t used my charity to hide his mess, if he hadn’t forced me to marry Julian in the first place, none of this would’ve happened. And now he had the nerve to call and threaten me?

He was supposed to be apologizing, not trying to control my life again.

Rejecting the contract would only bring more humiliation, more than what I was already drowning in. But how was I supposed to live under the same roof with my father’s greatest enemy for a whole year?

I picked up the pen. It felt heavy in my hand.

My fingers shook a little as I held it over the paper. The room was quiet. Too quiet. I could hear the scratch of the pen as I signed my name. 

Screw it.

The ink was still wet when I let the pen go. I leaned back in the chair, staring at nothing. I didn’t know if this was the right choice. But at least it was mine.

Roman walked over, picked up the paper, and looked at me. “About last night, us sleeping together….”

I cut him off. “Don’t bother. It never happened.”

His expression didn’t change. “It won’t happen again. Married or not, we stick to the terms.”

I gave a short nod. “Agreed.”

I picked up my phone from the table, turned to leave, then paused at the door.

“My father’s enemy is my enemy too,” I said, without looking back.