The morning sun slipped past the bedroom curtains, casting golden streaks across the tangled sheets. Ava stirred first, blinking away the remnants of sleep. Her gaze found Jace beside her, bare-chested, arm loosely wrapped around her waist. His face—usually tense, guarded—was relaxed in slumber.
For a moment, she let herself stare. Let herself feel.
What happened last night wasn't part of the contract. It wasn't strategy. It wasn't obligation. It was real. Raw. Undeniable.
She ran a finger down the line of his jaw.
His eyes opened slowly, and he smiled. Not the smirk she'd grown used to, but something softer. Something vulnerable.
"Morning," he murmured.
"Morning," she whispered.
He pulled her closer, nuzzling her neck. "Sleep okay?"
"Better than I expected," she said with a chuckle.
He hummed against her skin. "We should probably talk about… last night."
Ava tensed. "Yeah."
Jace propped himself up on one elbow. "I don't regret it."
Neither did she. But she didn't say it out loud.
"I just… I need to know where we stand," she said, sitting up and pulling the sheet around herself.
He sighed. "I don't want to complicate things more than they already are. But pretending there's nothing between us? That's a lie I can't keep telling myself."
Ava turned to him. "So what does that mean?"
Before he could answer, his phone rang from the nightstand.
He grabbed it, glanced at the screen—and his jaw tightened.
Ava noticed. "Who is it?"
He ignored her question and silenced the call. "It's nothing important."
She raised a brow. "You sure?"
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Let's just enjoy the morning."
---
Later that afternoon, Ava stood in the kitchen, scrolling through her tablet and sipping tea when the front door opened.
She expected it to be Jace.
It wasn't.
"Lena?" Ava's voice was sharp with disbelief.
The woman stood in the doorway, looking effortlessly chic in a cream blouse and designer trousers, sunglasses perched on her head.
"We need to talk," Lena said, stepping inside.
Ava stiffened. "How did you get in?"
"The housekeeper let me in. She didn't know I wasn't exactly welcome anymore."
Ava crossed her arms. "Well, now you do. So talk fast."
Lena looked her over, eyes cool. "I'm not here to fight. I just want you to know something. Jace and I—we go way back. And what you two have? It's temporary."
Ava didn't flinch. "Is that so?"
"I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm just stating facts. He loved me. Still does. He's just confused. I know him better than anyone."
"You knew him," Ava corrected, stepping closer. "But the man I know? He's changing. And if you were really so sure of your place, you wouldn't be here trying to scare me."
Lena's smile faltered. "Just don't get too comfortable. Jace doesn't do forever."
With that, she turned and walked out, heels clicking against the marble floor.
Ava's hand trembled slightly as she set down her cup.
She wasn't sure why Lena's words affected her so much. Maybe it was the confidence. The history.
Or maybe it was the fear that Lena could be right.
---
That evening, Jace returned and found Ava in the garden, curled up with a book she wasn't reading.
He sat beside her, brushing a kiss to her cheek. "You okay?"
"Lena stopped by," she said flatly.
He stiffened. "What did she say?"
"Nothing I didn't expect."
Jace rubbed his jaw. "She's trying to get in your head. Don't let her."
"She said you don't do forever."
His head snapped toward her. "She doesn't know what I want anymore."
Ava looked at him, really looked. "And what do you want, Jace?"
He hesitated, then reached out, cupping her face. "I want you. But I'm still figuring out what that means… beyond this house, beyond the deal."
She leaned into his touch. "I just don't want to be another chapter in your story. I want to be part of the whole book."
He kissed her, slow and deep. "Then let's write it together."
---
The next day brought new tension. Rumors had started circling in the media—photos of Ava and Jace leaving the brunch, whispers about a secret marriage.
The press circled the mansion. Paparazzi at the gates.
Ava's past was being dragged into the spotlight. Tabloids twisted facts. Her old family drama resurfaced. Her father's debts. Her mother's disappearance.
"I can handle this," she told Jace, scrolling through the headlines.
"You shouldn't have to," he replied. "I'll get our PR team on it."
But Ava shook her head. "No. Let me fight my own battles."
That night, she released a statement. Poised. Powerful. She didn't deny the marriage—but she made it clear that her story was hers to tell.
The next morning, the narrative shifted. People praised her courage. Her strength.
Jace watched her from across the room, a new respect in his eyes.
"You're incredible," he said.
She smiled. "Told you I wasn't fragile."
---
In bed that night, they lay side by side, fingers intertwined.
"I want more of this," Jace whispered.
"Me too."
"But you need to know—there are things I haven't told you. Things about the contract. About why this marriage had to happen."
Ava turned to him slowly. "Then start talking."
And just as he opened his mouth, his phone buzzed again.
Same number.
Same message.
> "Tick tock, Jace. She's going to find out soon enough."
Ava saw the message.
And everything changed.