Chapter 4

ADRIAN’S POV

I should have known the day would unravel the moment she walked into my lobby.

Ava.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her beautiful wide eyes fixed on me as though she had every right to stand there, every right to be here.

I felt the whispers before I heard them—the rustle of employees shifting in their seats, the smirks exchanged, the unspoken question in their eyes: Who is this scarred woman claiming to be Adrian Voss’s wife?

I couldn’t let them think it was true.

Not with the Sinclairs seconds away from stepping into my tower.

So I said the words I knew would cut her. Words that made me colder than the man she thought she married.

“Who are you?”

The silence that followed was electric. I forced my expression to remain calm, measured, in control as I watched her hopeful face get replaced with a crestfallen expression. The guards did their job, dragging her out. But my pulse raced and my heart thundered in my chest as her voice echoed after me—Adrian, it’s me. I’m your wife.

I turned to Charles Sinclair just as he entered with his entourage. My smile was smooth, my tone calm, my excuses ready.

“My apologies, Mr. Sinclair,” I said lightly, as if the scene hadn’t rattled me. “That woman is… confused. She’s been showing up here recently, unstable and obsessed. Unfortunately, success attracts that kind of attention.”

Charles studied me with those piercing blue eyes of his. For a moment, I feared he might press the issue. But then he gave a curt nod, as though I had confirmed something he already believed.

“Shall we?” he said, his voice clipped.

Relief surged, and I ushered him into the conference room.

***

I threw myself into the presentation with ruthless precision. Voss Enterprises’ growth charts filled the screens, numbers rising with each slide. I spoke of expansions, markets, global opportunities. This deal with Sinclair Global would propel us beyond borders, into an empire.

But even as I spoke, I couldn’t fully silence the memory of her face. Ava’s lips parted in shock, her eyes wet, her bag slipping from her shoulder as if I’d struck her. I didn’t mean to hurt her. But why did she have to show up? I have told her severally to never come to my office.

Why did she have to come here? Why today, of all days?

The doors opened midway, and Ethan Sinclair entered.

The eldest son. My supposed bridge to his father.

Tall, broad, with the same piercing eyes as Charles, Ethan slid into his chair without a word. But he didn’t look at the charts. He didn’t look at the numbers. He looked at me.

And he glared.

The intensity of it unsettled me. For a brief second, I faltered, my voice tightening before I smoothed it out again. Surely, he was simply skeptical. Perhaps he didn’t approve of me. But the animosity in his eyes—it felt personal.

I pushed through. By the end, I was certain I had impressed Charles with my vision, my strategy.

Then came the blow.

“If this partnership proceeds,” Charles said, folding his hands, “Ethan will oversee all Voss dealings with Sinclair Global. Every negotiation. Every joint venture. Every detail passes through him.”

My jaw nearly locked. Ethan. The same man who’d glared at me as if he wanted to put me through the floor.

I forced a smile. “Of course. I look forward to working with Ethan.”

Ethan gave me a smile. It wasn’t friendly.

***

When the meeting adjourned, I lingered in the lobby, my mind racing. I had nearly secured what I wanted, but with Ethan as my gatekeeper, everything was suddenly uncertain.

“Bad day, Adrian?”

Her voice was like silk over steel.

I turned to find Selene Monroe leaning against a column, her red lips curved into a smile that promised secrets. Dressed in a fitted black dress, she was impossible to ignore, though I often wished I could.

She stepped closer, her perfume curling around me. “You seemed… tense in there. Distracted.”

I adjusted my tie. “I had no such problem.”

“Oh, really?” She tilted her head and held out her phone. “Then explain this.”

On the screen, my world tilted.

Ava.

In another man’s arms.

His hand firm at her back, her face pressed against his chest, his lips dangerously close to her ear. Frame after frame, each one angled to scream intimacy rather than comfort.

Ice filled my veins.

Selene sighed, her tone dripping with feigned sympathy. “I didn’t want to believe it either. But there it is. Your wife. With another man. While you’re in here fighting for your future.”

I couldn’t breathe.

I knew Ava was naïve, too soft for this world. But with a man? With another man?

“I’ll kill him,” I muttered, my voice low.

Selene smirked, sliding her phone back into her clutch. “Careful. You don’t want to do anything rash. Better to let him dig his own grave. In the meantime, why don’t you come have a drink with me? You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

“I have a driver.”

“Perfect,” she purred. “Then you can drop me. Just one drink, Adrian. To take the edge off.”

I should have said no. I should have walked away. But the images seared themselves into my mind, each one worse than the last. So I followed her.

***

The bar was dim, crowded, loud. Whiskey burned down my throat, but it didn’t burn away the images of Ava and the mystery man.

Selene leaned close, her fingers brushing my arm. “You deserve better, Adrian. A man like you shouldn’t be shackled to someone who doesn’t even respect you.”

“Don’t start, Selene,” I muttered.

She only smiled, her hand sliding higher up my sleeve. “I’m not starting anything you don’t want.”

Her perfume suffocated me, her body pressing into mine. She angled her lips to my neck, her breath hot.

“Let me make you forget her.”

I shoved her hand away. “I told you. I’m not attracted to you.”

But she only laughed softly and pressed her lips to my neck. Once. Twice. Smearing crimson lipstick deliberately against my collar.

By the time I pulled her off me, her eyes gleamed with triumph. “Just a little reminder,” she whispered. “So you won’t go home thinking about her.”

***

Near midnight, the driver pulled into the estate. My head pounded, Selene’s perfume clinging like poison.

"I looked into it Sir. Miss Voss came to the office after a visit to the hospital." Travis, my driver informed me.

I paused. The hospital? What could she be doing there?

God, Ava. I sighed.

"Thank you Travis." I unlocked the door and stepped outside.

The dining room lights were still on when I walked into the house. Ava sat at the table, her posture tense, her eyes red from crying. She looked up as I entered.

Hope flickered—then died as her gaze landed on my collar.

I wasn't in the mood for her theatrics.

Her lips trembled. “Adrian…”

“Don’t start.” My voice was rough.

“I just—”

“I warned you never to come to my office,” I snapped, stepping closer. “And yet you did. After everything I’ve told you, you still disobeyed me. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You humiliated me in front of my staff. In front of Sinclair Global.”

Her chin trembled. “I didn’t mean—”

“Didn’t mean?” My laugh was bitter. “You’re unstable, Ava. Confused. Obsessed with playing the role of wife when you’re nothing but a liability to me. I’ve been protecting you from the world’s eyes, and this is how you repay me?”

Her eyes filled with tears, but she shook her head desperately. “Adrian, that’s not fair—”

“And now,” I roared, slamming my fist onto the table, “I find out you’ve been been parading around in public with a man? Do you enjoy making me look like a fool?" She looked at me with widened eyes.

"Who is he Ava?”

Her face went white. “What? No! Adrian, I would never—”

“Don’t lie to me!”

The plates rattled with the force of my rage. She flinched, her hands clutching her stomach instinctively. I noticed the movement, a flicker of something strange passing over her face.

But I was too blinded by the images Selene had shown me, too consumed by the idea of betrayal.

I shoved past her, my fists clenched. “You disgust me.”

Upstairs, my phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number.

“More where that came from. She isn’t who you think she is.”

And attached was another photo.

Ava. The man. Her face pressed to his chest, her eyes closed, as though she belonged there.

I turned away, the image of the man’s arms around her burning hotter than any whiskey.

And for the first time, I wondered if Selene was right.

Maybe I didn’t know my wife at all.