90 DAYS OF BEING HIS WIFE

CHAPTER ONE

I sat inside a gallery—an engagement gala, actually, for some random celebrity. It reeked of old money and expensive perfume.

My name was Ava Green, and I was twenty-three years old. I was there for a reason. A plan. I intended to steal something inside that gala. Jewelry, of course. It had taken me three days to get onto the guest list for the occasion. I tried my best not to think of how I had gotten onto that list.

I felt nauseous and exhausted. I had just spent the last twenty minutes scouting the restricted hallway where the safe was hidden, and the stress of it was catching up to me. My back felt like crap, and my feet were throbbing because of the tiredness I felt right then.

I wore a yellow dress and cheap, fake heels that looked expensive to those rich guests. I heard people entering the gala room as I stared at the table where I sat. I looked like I was waiting for someone. Of course, I wasn't.

I stood up and walked toward a waiter who had a tray of wine—a path of wine-filled clear glasses on top of it. I walked toward him; he wore a suit that looked a little too big for him. He looked young, like a nervous trainee.

"Hey, I need one," I said, winking at the waiter. I saw his cheeks burn red instantly.

I had always been gorgeous. I had a curved nose and blonde hair, which made guys crawl at my feet.

I was about to grab a glass of wine from the tray the waiter held when, suddenly, I felt a sharp bump on my shoulder. I nearly lost my balance, but I regained my footing to see who had bumped into me.

I slowly turned my head and saw a man in a sharp suit standing right next to the server's station. I assumed he was just another incompetent staff member slacking off.

The sickness and the pain in my feet made my temper flare before I could stop it. I knew I should be quiet, but I snapped.

"You clumsy trash! Look where you’re walking!" I snapped, my voice rising above the chatter. "Are you blind?"

"Manager! Manager!" I shouted, pointing an accusing finger at him. "Someone get a manager over here!"

Everyone turned toward me. I felt their eyes on me like a pack of tigers trying to eat me, but I stood my ground. I wasn't going to let some clumsy employee ruin my night.

A manager eventually walked toward me. He looked flustered and out of breath, as if he had run across the room. He wore the same clothing as the waiters, but he had a badge on his uniform that stated he was the manager of the gala.

"This man bumped into me," I said to the manager, expecting him to scold his employee.

Instead, the manager turned pale.

The man who had bumped me quickly formed a smirk on his handsome face. His hair was black and shining. His nose was curved, and his tan skin made my stomach feel weird. My cheeks began to turn red, though I did not know why. I stared at him.

I could feel that my eyes looked like a scared cat’s from his perspective.

Suddenly, the man grabbed a glass of wine from the waiter's tray.

To my surprise, he poured the liquid right onto my face.

My makeup was ruined. Mascara ran down my cheeks like black tears, and the sticky red liquid stained my skin and my dress. It was embarrassing as everyone stared at me and gasped.

Why had he thrown that wine in my face? And why hadn't the manager done anything about it?

"Don't you know him?" the manager I had called whispered into my ear.