THE WIFE HE MARRIED FOR REVENGE

THE HUSBAND

AVA'S POV

Luca’s house was so beautiful, it actually made my skin crawl. This wasn’t a place you just strolled into and felt comfortable. Everything sparkled. The windows stretched from floor to ceiling, and the view punched you in the gut, in a good way, I guess. The furniture looked like it belonged in a museum, and the paintings? Honestly, they probably cost more than my dad’s entire business. Every surface shined like someone expected royalty to show up and start eating off the floors.

But still, emptiness hung in the air. Not the obvious kind, not space, not stuff. Something was just missing. No family photos smiling at you. No shoes scattered by the door, no mugs abandoned next to open books. It didn’t feel like anyone actually lived here.

I stood there, suitcase in hand, feeling like someone about to sit down at a table where they weren’t wanted.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, because what else do you say in a place like this?

Luca just glanced around, cool as ever. “It’s practical.”

I couldn’t help myself; I looked at him. “That’s different?”

“It is.”

I almost laughed, but I knew better. With Luca, everything fell into neat little boxes. Practical, not beautiful. Private, not secretive. An arrangement. Not a marriage.

He guided me upstairs. My room was way off in the east wing, far from his. You could get lost on the way. King-sized bed, massive windows, a closet bigger than my whole bedroom growing up, and a bathroom straight out of a magazine. I wanted to be impressed. Instead, that emptiness just dug deeper.

“This is yours,” Luca said. He sounded more like a landlord than a husband.

I dropped my suitcase. “Thanks.”

He paused in the doorway. “There are a few rules.”

Of course there were. I crossed my arms. “Naturally.”

He didn’t even blink at the sarcasm. “I eat breakfast alone.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t like being interrupted when I’m working from home.”

“Fine.”

“If you need anything, ask Marguerite. The staff reports to me, not you.”

“Sure.”

He hesitated, and for a second, I thought he’d run out of steam, but.... “And I’d prefer you stay out of my study.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Why would I want to go through your study?”

He looked straight at me. “People are curious.”

“Noted.”

Luca’s gaze locked onto mine. “I’m asking you not to be.”

The way he said it scraped at something inside me. “Is that a rule or a warning?”

He held my eyes. “Does it matter?”

“It does to me.” I stepped closer. “If you’re going to accuse me of snooping already, I want to know why.”

“I’m not accusing you.”

“It sounds like you are.”

“I’m just private.”

I couldn’t help the small, bitter laugh. “You keep saying that.”

His jaw flexed. “Because it’s true.”

“Or maybe you just like to feel in control?”

Silence. Thick as concrete, sharp as a slap. I’d stepped over some invisible boundary, but he didn’t yell. Didn’t even raise his voice.

Just colder. “Careful, Ava.”

My heart pounded. “Or what?”

We stayed there, stuck in the moment. Part of me prayed he wouldn’t answer.

In the end, his shoulders sagged a little. “I’m not trying to control you. I’m trying to protect something.”

That word "protect" made me pause. I frowned. “Protect what?”

He glanced at the hallway, then back at me. “Something that isn’t your concern.”

Something in his face stopped me from pushing harder. For one second, I swear I saw pain slip through all that calm.

He let go of the doorknob and stepped away. “Dinner is at seven.”

I blinked. “If I show up, fine; if I don’t, that’s fine too?”

He just nodded. “You don’t have to pretend this is something, it’s not.”

That stung more than I wanted it to.

“This marriage,” I said quietly.

He nodded again.

I looked away. “Right.”

He left, shutting the door behind him.

The room felt even bigger after he left. I sat on the edge of the bed, facing my suitcase. This was it. My life now, a house I’d never be used to, a man I couldn’t read, a marriage no one asked me about.

All this comfort, and I was lonelier than ever.

I skipped dinner. Told myself I wasn’t hungry. But really, I just couldn’t stomach sitting across from Luca pretending we were anything but strangers.

By nine, trying to sleep was a joke. I changed into comfortable clothes and wandered out. The house felt even quieter, the silence echoing down the halls.

I drifted along, looking for a distraction. A book, maybe anything to drag my mind away from Luca and all this mess.

I found the library tucked away in the east wing. It wasn’t huge, but the shelves were full. I ran my fingers along the books. Mostly business, finance, law, architecture, investments. Classic. Not much heart, just like the house.

I sighed and turned to go, but a door caught my eye down the hall. Almost hidden. Closed tight. I remembered his warning. "Stay out of my study."

I should’ve walked away. I meant to, I even turned toward the library. But curiosity’s a powerful thing. Just a peek. I eased open the door, and the second I was inside, I knew I’d messed up.

Luca’s study. The only room in the house that looked lived in, paper everywhere, laptop still on, a half-finished whiskey sweating on the desk, files stacked up. For once, this was Luca, unguarded.

Then I saw the photograph on the shelf. I stepped closer, suddenly nervous. A woman, dark hair, elegant, caught laughing. Her eyes, God, she had Luca’s eyes.

Who was she? His mother? Sister? Someone else?

I reached out, fingers almost touching the frame.

“Ava.”

Every cell in my body froze. Luca stood in the doorway. He looked blank, but those eyes, burning, hurting underneath.

“I asked you to stay out of here.”

My throat closed up. “I’m sorry,” I croaked, already backing away.

“I was just… looking for a book, I didn’t realize......”

“You knew.”

Soft. Barely above a whisper, which somehow made it worse.

“Luca, I swear I’m sorry.”

“Get out.”

That was it. No yelling, just cold certainty.

“I didn’t mean to....”

“Now.” he shouted.

I flinched and didn’t argue, just hurried out. As I did, I caught another glimpse of the smiling woman in the photo. Her happiness looked so out of place here. I knew right then, she wasn’t just anyone. Luca still carried her, even if he hid it.

I closed my bedroom door, palm pressed hard to block out the rest of the world.

I wasn’t afraid he’d hurt me. Not like that. What actually scared me was that look in his eyes. Not anger. Grief, raw and bleeding under the surface. I stared at the pool of water outside.

Who was she, really? And why did a single photo c***k him open?

I should let it go. This marriage was never about caring or questions. He spelled that out from the start.

But lying there in the dark, I couldn’t shake the picture. That woman was laughing, and Luca looked at her like he’d lost something forever. For the first time, I wondered if I was the only one forced into this. Maybe Luca lost something long before I arrived.

In the end, that explained the house, beautiful, cold, full of rooms and secrets. Stories that wanted to stay behind closed doors.

But whether I liked it or not, I’d found my way to the first page.