"I was drunk,"
Mario said it as if it explained everything. As if the words could erase the betrayal tattooed onto Ava's heart the moment her younger sister's pregnancy test turned positive.
He didn't apologize. He didn't plead or even look remotely ashamed. No.
He lounged on the couch in their modest apartment, scrolling through his phone while Ava stood frozen, the white plastic stick clutched in her trembling hand.
"It didn't mean anything," Mario added casually, not bothering to lift his gaze. "It just… happened."
Ava's lips parted, but no words came out. She wanted to scream, to throw something, to demand an answer that might at least make sense. But what explanation could make this okay? What reason could possibly justify your husband sleeping with your own sister?
And now — a baby.
Her fingers tightened around the test stick. She wasn't sure if it was to keep herself steady or to stop herself from hurling it across the room.
"Mum says I should keep it," Mia's voice chimed from behind her, sugar-laced with smug satisfaction.
Ava turned, her stomach churning as she faced her younger half-sister. Same mother, different fathers. Their mother's darling, the prized model of the family. Tall, slender, and always perfectly made up, Mia's smirk widened as she patted her flat stomach.
"Guess you've never been able to give him one," Mia added with a shrug, as if it wasn't a dagger to Ava's chest.
Ava took a shaky breath. "You… you both disgust me."
Mario finally glanced up then, an irritated frown creasing his brow as if she was the problem. "Don't start, Ava. You've been moody for months. Maybe if you'd spent less time whining about bills and more time being a wife, none of this would've happened."
Her vision blurred. The words felt like acid searing her from the inside out. This wasn't just betrayal — it was war, and she hadn't even realized she'd been drafted.
Mia sashayed over, her tone syrupy sweet. "Besides, Mum says you've always been bad luck. She was right, wasn't she? First your dad leaves, now your husband. Guess you're meant to be alone."
Ava's mother. The one woman who should've stood by her — had always made it clear Mia was the golden child. From the moment Ava's father vanished from their lives, her mother's affection dried up like a puddle in the sun.
Mia, the budding celebrity model with magazine covers and a million social media followers, was everything Ava wasn't. Beautiful, adored… wanted.
And now carrying her husband's child.
Ava dropped the test on the coffee table, her hands trembling as she grabbed her purse. "I'm going to work."
Mario scoffed. "Yeah, run away. Like always."
She didn't look back.
Ava's job at The Sterling Plaza Hotel wasn't glamorous. She wasn't the heiress sipping cocktails by the rooftop pool or the VIP guest in the penthouse suite. She was a hostess at one of the five-star restaurants on the ground floor, greeting guests and pretending her world wasn't crumbling around her.
By the time she reached the hotel, her eyes stung, and her stomach twisted in knots. But she smoothed her hair, touched up her lipstick, and forced a brittle smile as she stepped inside.
"Hey, Ava," her colleague, Jenna, called from behind the counter. "You okay? You look… pale."
"Just a rough morning," Ava muttered.
Rough didn't begin to cover it.
The restaurant buzzed with the usual early evening crowd — business moguls, socialites, and tourists too rich for their own good. Ava scanned the reservations, grateful for the distraction.
And then —
The doors opened.
And everything in her world shifted.
A man stepped in, tall and commanding, his presence enough to pull heads toward him like gravity itself bent to his will. He wasn't just handsome; he was unnervingly beautiful in a sharp, masculine way. Jet-black hair, piercing gray eyes, and a tailored suit that whispered obscene wealth with every step.
Ava's breath caught in her throat.
"Who's that?" she whispered.
Jenna glanced up and gasped. "You don't know? That's Damian Lancaster."
Ava blinked. The name tugged at something distant in her memory, like a long-forgotten tune. "Who?"
Jenna's eyes widened. "You're joking, right? Owner of Lancaster Holdings. The man practically owns half this city. He never comes here. I heard he prefers privacy, and people say he's… dangerous."
Ava frowned. Dangerous? There was nothing threatening about him — though there was something undeniably intimidating in the way the room seemed to tilt in his favor.
As if the very air belonged to him.
She forced herself to look away, focusing on the reservation list, but her pulse pounded.
"Is he dining alone?" she asked.
"Apparently. Private table by the window. Mr. Sterling insisted we clear it for him."
Ava swallowed hard. The name Damian Lancaster still itched at her memory, teasing the edge of familiarity. She couldn't place it. But something told her this wasn't the last time she'd see him.
Her shift dragged on. She served drinks, took reservations, and tried not to think about Mia's smirk or Mario's betrayal.
It was close to closing when Jenna nudged her. "He's leaving."
Ava looked up just in time to see Damian rising from his seat. The soft lighting cast sharp angles over his face, his expression unreadable. But then —
For the briefest second —
His eyes met hers.
A flicker of recognition flashed in those storm-gray depths. As if he knew her. As if he were trying to remember from where.
Ava's breath hitched.
And then he was gone.
Back in her apartment later that night, Ava stood by the window, the city's lights flickering like tiny stars in the distance.
The confrontation replayed in her head on loop. Mario's cold indifference. Mia's cruel taunts. The humiliating betrayal.
And those eyes.
She didn't know why she couldn't shake the image of Damian Lancaster. A stranger. A billionaire. A man from a world she didn't belong to.
But something told her — instinctively — that fate wasn't done with them.
Not yet.
And for the first time in a long time, the thought didn't terrify her.
It gave her hope.
Even if it was dangerous.
Even if it was forbidden.
Even if it might cost her everything.