Ava could still taste the kiss.
Her lips tingled with the memory long after they left the gala. In the backseat of the limo, the silence between them wasn't awkward — it was electric. Like the air itself was holding its breath.
She glanced at Ares from the corner of her eye.
He sat with his phone in hand, fingers still, but unreadable. That was his gift — making her feel something intense while pretending he felt nothing.
"Was that really for the cameras?" she asked softly.
He didn't look up. "You want me to say it wasn't?"
"I want the truth."
A pause.
Then he locked his phone and turned to her. "The truth is overrated. Stick to the contract, Ava."
"Right," she said, blinking away the sting. "Just business."
But her heart was already tangled in a line she couldn't unwrite.
---
The Next Morning – Trouble Brews
The moment Ava stepped into the Knight mansion's dining room, the scent of French roast and betrayal hit her at once.
Sitting at the breakfast table was Elena Curz.
In a robe.
Holding a mug that said "Ares's Favorite".
"Good morning, darling wife," Elena purred. "Don't mind me. I slept over. Long night, you know how these things go."
Ava's spine stiffened. "Didn't realize the trash took itself out and came back in."
Elena's smile sharpened. "Oh, Ava. You must know — you're just a chapter. I'm the whole book."
"Funny," Ava replied. "Because I've seen books like you get burned before."
Just then, Ares appeared — shirtless, in black pajama pants, rubbing his jaw with a towel.
The tension thickened like smoke.
Ava turned to him. "She's still here?"
"I told her to leave," Ares said, then eyed Elena. "You overstayed."
"But you weren't complaining when—"
"Elena." His voice turned cold. "That part of my life is over. You don't live here. She does."
He looked at Ava, not Elena, as he said it.
That one glance was worth a thousand headlines.
Elena's face twisted. She stormed out without another word.
But Ava wasn't done.
"You let her stay the night?" she asked, arms crossed.
"I didn't let her. I just didn't care enough to stop her."
"Charming."
"You're jealous."
"I'm not."
"You are," he said, walking closer, his chest far too distracting for an argument. "Which is interesting, considering this is all pretend."
"I'm not jealous," she insisted, poking his chest. "I'm territorial. Big difference."
Ares leaned down, face inches from hers. "If you're territorial, prove it."
Their eyes locked.
But before anything happened, Harriet barged in.
"Sorry to interrupt this marriage therapy session," she said, "but there's a problem."
Ares straightened. "What now?"
Harriet handed them a tablet.
On the screen was a blog post from a major gossip site.
> "Mrs. Knight's Hidden Past — Exclusive: Who Really Is Ava Reid?"
Photo: Ava kissing a mystery man six years ago
Ava's heart dropped.
She knew that photo. She knew that man.
And she'd sworn she'd never see him again.
---
Meanwhile – Across Town
The man from the photo sat in his hotel suite, reading the article with a small, cold smile.
"Looks like you found your way into the spotlight, Ava," he murmured.
He turned to the woman beside him — a reporter with ambition in her eyes.
"Get me everything on her. Friends. Enemies. Secrets. Especially the one she ran from six years ago."
The woman nodded. "And what about her husband?"
The man's eyes darkened.
"If he stands in my way... he'll wish he'd never married her."