Ava sat on the edge of the bed, her knees drawn to her chest as warm morning light poured through the windows, painting golden hues across the hardwood floor. Her robe slipped slightly from one shoulder, revealing the delicate crescent-shaped scar near her collarbone. It was a mark from years ago, yet it throbbed today, like some forgotten wound begging to be remembered.
Everything felt louder in the silence—her breath, her thoughts, her heartbeat. The past few days had torn through her like a storm. Richard's betrayal, Lena's sudden return, the intrusive media circus—it all blurred together. And still, at the center of it all was Jace.
Jace, who had started as a transaction. A contract. A name on paper and a signature sealed by obligation. But he had become so much more, and that was the part that scared her the most.
She exhaled slowly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. Her heart felt too big for her chest.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
"Ava?" His voice. Deep. Tentative.
She turned. "Come in."
Jace stepped into the room. He looked exhausted—his shirt slightly wrinkled, sleeves rolled up to reveal his strong forearms, hair disheveled like he'd been pulling at it in frustration. But his eyes softened the moment they met hers.
"Hey," he said, voice low.
"Hey."
He crossed the room slowly and sat beside her. The silence stretched out again, heavy but not uncomfortable.
"I've been thinking," he began.
She turned toward him, legs folded beneath her. "About what?"
"About us. Everything we've been through. Everything we're still facing." He reached out and brushed a thumb across her cheek. "And I realized... I don't want to spend another second pretending this is just a contract."
Her eyes welled. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying I'm done lying to myself. I love you, Ava. And not because of any deal or obligation. I love you because you've become the best part of my life."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"I know I've made mistakes," he added, voice trembling slightly. "But if you give me the chance, I'll spend every day proving to you that you're more than just my wife on paper. You're the only person who's ever made me feel like I matter outside of the boardroom."
Tears spilled from her eyes. She didn't say anything—she just moved forward and kissed him.
The kiss was tender at first, like a question.
Then it deepened—urgent, emotional, raw.
Jace pulled her closer, his hands tangling in her hair as he kissed her like he was breathing her in. Ava melted against him, letting the robe fall completely. Her skin met his fingertips like electricity, like every nerve ending had been waiting just for him.
He leaned her gently back on the bed, his lips never leaving hers. His hands traced down her body, slow and reverent, as if trying to memorize every inch of her. When his lips traveled down her neck to the soft curve of her collarbone, she let out a soft moan.
Her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them one by one until his chest was bare beneath her hands. The warmth of his skin, the way he shivered under her touch—it made her bold.
Their bodies aligned, and when they finally came together, it wasn't just about passion. It was about healing. About releasing every fear, every doubt, every wound they'd both been carrying.
Jace moved with gentle power, each motion echoing devotion. He whispered her name like a prayer, like it grounded him.
And Ava? She clung to him like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
Afterward, they lay wrapped in each other's arms, hearts pounding in sync. The world outside could've crumbled, and neither would've noticed.
"I meant what I said," Jace whispered, brushing her hair from her face. "I love you."
Ava touched his face, fingertips soft against his cheek. "I love you too."
He kissed her again, softer this time. "Then let's fight for us. No matter what Lena or Richard throws our way."
She smiled through her tears. "We've already started."
Downstairs, her phone buzzed again—another news alert, another scandal. But in this room, in this bed, they had found something no headline could break.
Something real.