4

"This is insane."

Ava paced back and forth, gripping the edges of the contract in her hands. The words blurred together, but the meaning was clear: a legally binding agreement. A marriage in name, but something far more complicated underneath. The weight of the decision pressed heavily on her shoulders, and the air crackled with tension.

Alexander sat across from her, perfectly composed. His dark hair was neatly styled, and his tailored suit accentuated his lean frame. "It’s practical."

"It’s absurd." She spun around, her heartbeat hammering against her ribs. "I don’t even know you."

He didn’t blink, his expression betraying nothing. "You know enough."

Ava exhaled sharply, frustration boiling within her. "Why me?"

"Because I need someone who understands how this world works. Someone who knows what it means to sacrifice. And you need a fresh start."

Her laughter was short and bitter. "Oh, so this is charity?"

Alexander’s expression didn’t change. "This is an opportunity."

She stared at him, trying to find the cracks in his perfect, polished exterior. There were none—just cool, unwavering certainty. It was infuriating.

Her fingers tightened around the papers. "If I sign this, what happens next?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his gaze steady. "You move in with me. We present a united front. And you stop looking at yourself as a woman who was discarded."

Her stomach twisted. The thought of being with him—of what that would mean—was both thrilling and terrifying.

She wanted to say no. She should say no. But the thought of walking away—of returning to a life where she had nothing, where she was nothing—made her chest ache. Memories of her past life flooded her mind: the empty apartment, the echoes of laughter that never came, the feeling of being utterly alone.

Her fingers trembled as she picked up the pen. She looked at him one last time, searching for an ounce of doubt in his eyes, but finding only determination.

And she signed.

The penthouse was another world.

Ava had expected luxury, but she hadn’t anticipated this. The marble floors gleamed under the soft glow of chandeliers. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city skyline, making the world below seem small and insignificant. Every inch of the space was curated to perfection—sleek, modern, and effortlessly elegant.

A staff of housekeepers and assistants moved efficiently, ensuring that everything remained pristine. They flitted around like shadows, attending to every detail with practiced ease. For the first time in her life, Ava wasn’t the one doing the cleaning.

"You’ll get used to it."

She turned to find Alexander standing near the entrance, watching her with an inscrutable expression.

She swallowed hard. "I doubt that."

"You will."

Ava glanced around the expansive living space, still feeling like an imposter in her own life. "So what now? I just… exist here?"

Alexander shrugged off his jacket and handed it to one of the waiting staff. "For now, yes."

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion creeping in. "And later?"

A small smirk played on his lips, a hint of mischief in his otherwise serious demeanor. "Later, we redefine the rules of the game."

She wasn’t sure if that was meant to be reassuring or terrifying. The uncertainty gnawed at her, but there was a part of her that craved the challenge.

Days passed, and the shift was undeniable.

Ava had spent years being overlooked, treated as insignificant. But now, everything had changed. People addressed her with deference. Doors were opened for her. Luxury surrounded her at every turn—designer clothing, extravagant meals—a life she had never even allowed herself to dream of.

And then there was Alexander.

He was never far, always watching. He never pried, never demanded more than she was willing to give. But there was a quiet intensity to him, a presence that was impossible to ignore. He was the eye of the storm—calm, collected, and always in control.

"You look different."

She glanced up from her reflection, startled to find him standing behind her. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine—a mixture of admiration and something deeper.

Her fingers brushed over the silk of her dress. "I feel different."

"Good."

Ava met his gaze in the mirror, searching for answers in the depths of his dark eyes. "Why does that matter to you?"

His expression was unreadable. "Because power is perception. And you’re more powerful than you realize."

Those words lingered in her mind, sparking a flicker of something within her—a sense of awakening, of potential. But it was also a reminder of the precariousness of her situation.

Then the news broke.

It started as whispers, then headlines.

"Alexander Sterling, the elusive billionaire, is married!" flashed across screens, igniting a frenzy in the media. Who was she? Where had she come from? The woman his ex-wife had never expected to become. The scrutiny was overwhelming, and Ava was thrust into the spotlight, a role she had never wanted.

Interviews and articles dissected her past, her motivations, and her every move. Photographers camped outside the penthouse, capturing her in vulnerable moments, her life becoming a spectacle for all to see. The outside world was a whirlwind of flashing cameras and probing questions, but inside the penthouse, a different reality unfolded.

And then came the fallout.

She had expected Logan to call. She just hadn’t expected him to sound so desperate.

"Ava, we need to talk."

She leaned back against the leather seat of the car, watching the city blur past. "We really don’t."

"What the hell are you doing?" His voice was a mixture of anger and disbelief.

She let out a slow breath, steadying herself. "Moving on."

A sharp exhale from the other end. "You married him?"

She didn’t answer. The truth hung heavy between them, a chasm that had widened with each passing day.

Logan’s voice dropped, laced with something close to panic. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

Ava’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "I think you’re the one who should be worried."

She ended the call, feeling a surge of empowerment. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she had won. The weight of Logan’s expectations and their shared past began to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of agency.

She didn’t mean to eavesdrop.

The night was quiet, the penthouse bathed in soft light. She had been heading toward the library when she heard him.

Alexander’s voice was low, controlled. But there was an edge to it, something lethal beneath the surface. The conversation was serious, and she felt a strange compulsion to listen.

"No. That won’t be necessary."

A pause filled the air, thick with tension. A slow inhale followed, and then he continued. "Because anyone who tries to harm her will regret it."

Ava’s pulse quickened.

Who was he talking to? Was there a threat looming that she hadn’t been aware of? The gravity of his words sent a chill down her spine, igniting a mix of fear and intrigue within her.

And more importantly—what exactly had she just signed up for? The reality of her new life began to twist in her mind, the excitement mingling with uncertainty. She felt like she was standing at the edge of an abyss, looking into the unknown.

As the days turned into weeks, Ava found herself navigating this new world with surprising resilience. She immersed herself in the opulence surrounding her, learning to wield her newfound status with grace. She attended events, mingled with influential people, and even began to forge her own identity in this gilded cage.

Alexander remained a constant presence, his support unwavering, his intentions still shrouded in mystery. He guided her through the intricacies of high society, teaching her the unspoken rules and nuances of their new life together.

"You need to be more than just a pretty face," he advised one evening, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You need to command respect."

Ava nodded, determination igniting within her. She was no longer the woman who had been discarded. She was evolving, rising from the ashes of her past.

And with each passing day, she began to see glimpses of her own power.

The next gala was a turning point.

Ava wore a stunning red gown that hugged her curves and cascaded to the floor, making her feel confident and fierce. As she entered the grand ballroom, all eyes turned to her. The buzz of conversation faded, replaced by whispers of admiration.

She spotted Alexander across the room, engaged in conversation with powerful business moguls. Their eyes connected, and he nodded slightly, an unspoken acknowledgment of her presence.

Ava took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage she had. She was not just Alexander’s wife; she was Ava. And she belonged here.

As the night unfolded, she navigated through the crowd, engaging in conversations, sharing laughter, and even challenging a few opinions. The thrill of being seen, of being heard, was intoxicating.

And then she overheard a comment that made her heart race.

"I heard she’s just a placeholder," a socialite whispered to her companion. "A trophy for Alexander to show off."