Ava barely made it back to the penthouse before the tears came.

She collapsed onto the leather chaise lounge and gripped the armrest, her knuckles white. Not because of fear. Not even because of confusion. But because of him.

Ares Knight.

That devil in a suit had held her hand like it meant something. Stared into her eyes like he knew her. Kissed the back of her palm like he wasn’t pretending.

Like she actually belonged in his world.

And for a terrifying second… she almost believed it.

Then came the press.

Her name was already trending:

> #WhoIsAvaReid

#MrsKnight

#GoldDiggerOrGenius?

The articles were worse:

> “From waitress to billionaire bride – Is Ava Reid just Ares Knight’s temporary toy?”

“Socialite Elena Curz seen crying leaving Knight Gallery – wedding confirmed!”

Her phone vibrated again.

This time, it wasn’t Ares.

It was her little sister, Lily.

> Lily: Ava… is it true? Are you really married to the Ares Knight?!

Ava’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, then paused.

What was she supposed to say? That she accidentally married one of the most powerful men in the country? That she didn’t even know if the marriage would last a week?

Before she could respond, the door opened.

She turned fast—heart pounding—expecting Ares.

But it was Harriet, again. And she wasn’t alone.

A tall woman in a red designer dress trailed behind her, sunglasses still on indoors, heels clicking with venom.

“Elena Curz,” Harriet announced, clearly uncomfortable. “She insisted.”

Ava stood slowly. “Elena Curz,” she repeated, as if tasting the name.

“The woman your husband was supposed to marry,” Elena said, taking off her glasses to reveal stormy blue eyes and a smile that didn’t reach them. “Before you showed up like a stray cat in a wedding chapel.”

Harriet cleared her throat. “I’ll… let you two talk.”

The door closed.

Ava didn’t move. “If you came to throw wine at me, I prefer red.”

Elena gave a bitter laugh. “Cute. I’ll give you that. But don’t mistake this as a meet-and-greet. I’m not here to warn you. I’m here to promise you: whatever game you’re playing, it ends with you broke, broken, and forgotten.”

Ava exhaled, steadying herself. “And you think showing up here uninvited makes you sound sane?”

“I think it reminds you who actually belongs in this world.” Elena leaned closer. “You think Ares married you because of some fairy-tale connection? No, sweetheart. He married you because you were a convenient accident. A PR shield. A spectacle. A speed bump before he fixes this.”

Ava refused to flinch. “If that’s true, then why are you here threatening a speed bump?”

Elena’s smile cracked.

Ava pressed forward. “You’re not scared I married him. You’re scared he might actually like me.”

“Like you?” Elena scoffed. “He doesn’t like anyone. Ares Knight doesn’t love, doesn’t trust, doesn’t feel. But if you think a ring makes you safe, you’re dumber than your tabloid profile.”

Then she leaned in, voice low like a serpent’s whisper. “The wolves are already circling, Ava. He’s not the only one with secrets. And you? You don’t have a leash strong enough to survive this.”

She walked out without waiting for a reply.

Ava stood there in the silence, every nerve burning with rage.

But not fear.

Not anymore.

---

Later That Night – Ares Returns

Ares entered the penthouse like a storm in a suit.

He tossed his jacket onto the chair and loosened his tie. “You survived the press without fainting. I’m impressed.”

Ava didn’t look up from her seat on the couch. “Elena stopped by.”

Ares froze mid-pour of scotch. “She what?”

“She said I was a speed bump. That you’ll fix it soon.”

He set the crystal glass down. “And what do you think?”

“I think she’s desperate.” Ava turned to face him, her gaze steady. “But I also think she might be right. I don’t belong in your world.”

Ares walked over, slowly. Every step deliberate, a prowler in Armani.

He stopped in front of her. “No, you don’t,” he said. “And yet—here you are. Wearing my ring. In my home.”

“I’m not your toy,” she said. “And I’m not scared of your ex.”

He tilted his head. “Good. Because this isn’t about her. Or tabloids. This is about survival.”

He knelt slightly to her level, his voice like velvet and danger. “You want out? Fine. Walk out that door, and I’ll make sure you never have to worry about your sister’s medical bills again.”

Ava’s eyes widened.

“But if you stay,” Ares said, “you play by my rules. That means loyalty. That means silence. That means appearances. You’ll smile for cameras, stand beside me at galas, and wear my name like armor.”

“What do you get out of it?” she whispered.

He straightened, eyes like thunderclouds. “A wife who distracts the world while I burn it down.”

Ava stood too. “Then maybe I should be more than just a distraction.”

Their eyes locked—power against power. Flame meeting gasoline.

Then Ares said something he hadn’t meant to say aloud.

“You’re dangerous when you stop being afraid.”

She didn’t blink. “Maybe you like dangerous.”

He smiled darkly. “You have no idea.”