TRAPPED IN MARRIAGE WITH THE RUTHLESS BILLIONAIRE

CHAPTER TWELVE

AUTHOR’S POV

The Grand Ballroom of the Carter estate had been transformed into a sanctuary of understated wealth for the rehearsal dinner. To the outside world, this was the final, elegant hurdle before the wedding of the year. But inside the room, the air felt thin, charged with the kind of electricity that precedes a lightning strike.

At the head of the table sat Lucas Carter.

He looked every bit the impenetrable heir, his charcoal suit absorbing the light around him. Beside him, the seat for his bride remained empty.

“She’s late,” Margaret whispered, leaning toward Lucas. Her emerald silk gown shimmered like serpent scales in the candlelight. “It’s a poor start, Lucas. The board is already whispering. They expect a Carter bride to understand that in this family, punctuality is a form of respect.”

Lucas didn't turn his head. He merely watched the red wine swirl in his glass, the deep crimson reflecting in his flint-like eyes. “The wedding is in less than twenty four hours, Margaret. Let her have her moment. Ava has a way of surprising people.”

“Does she?” Sonia chimed in from his other side, her eyes tracking the entrance with predatory stillness. “Or is she simply realizing she doesn't belong in a room where every guest’s watch costs more than her father’s entire wealth?”

Sonia shared a brief, sharp look with Margaret. The envelopes had been placed. The "tribute" was loaded. The trap was no longer being set, it was waiting to be sprung.

Then, the heavy oak doors swung open and the room fell silent.

It wasn't just the dress— a simple, floor-length gown of midnight blue, it was the way Ava Hart carried herself. She didn't walk like a girl who had been rescued from the streets. She walked like a woman stepping onto a battlefield, her chin tilted high, her gaze fixed directly on the man who held her future in his hands.

AVA’S POV

The silence was the loudest thing I had ever heard.

Every eye in the room was a camera, recording my every movement, searching for the crack in the facade. I could feel the weight of the midnight-blue silk trailing behind me and the cold touch of the diamond pendant Nicholas had fastened around my neck an hour ago. It felt less like jewelry and more like a collar.

I forced myself to breathe. “In. Out. Keep your hands steady.“ I murmured to myself.

I walked toward the head of the table. I could see Margaret’s thin, satisfied smile and Sonia’s narrowed, hateful eyes.

But mostly, I saw Lucas.

He didn't stand up, he didn't smile. He simply watched me with that same clinical intensity I had encountered in his study.

I reached the seat beside him. The waiter pulled it out, and I sat down, my movements stiff and practiced.

“You’re late,” Lucas murmured, his voice so low it was meant only for me.

“A Hart always knows how to make an entrance,” I replied, mirroring his tone. It was a line my father, Daniel, used to say before the world fell apart. Saying it now felt like putting on a suit of armor that was three sizes too heavy.

Lucas’s eyebrows shot up—the only sign of his surprise. “Careful, Ava. Arrogance is a trait you have to earn in this family.”

“I’m not being arrogant, Lucas. I’m being honest. There’s a difference.”

The first course was served, but the food tasted like ash. I could feel the stares of the board members sitting across from us. To them, I was a curiosity. A mystery. A girl from nowhere who had somehow ensnared the heir to the empire.

“So, Miss Hart,” Mr. Sterling, the oldest member of the board, spoke up. His eyes were sharp behind gold-rimmed glasses. “We’ve heard much about your connection to Nicholas Carter but very little about your own family. Your father, Daniel Hart... he was quite the figure in the industry, wasn't he?”

My heart skipped a beat. The table went quiet at the mention of my father's name. This was the first probe.

“He was,” I said, my voice steady despite the roar of blood in my ears. “He was a man who believed in hard work and integrity.”

“Integrity,” Margaret repeated, her voice carrying across the table like a soft, mocking chime. “Such a beautiful word. Though, if I recall the news reports from a few years ago, the Hart name was associated with something quite different toward the end. Something about... missing funds? A debt that could never be repaid?”

The air left the room.

I felt Lucas stiffen beside me. I didn't look at him. I couldn't. I kept my eyes on Margaret, who was dabbing her lips with a linen napkin as if she hadn't just dropped a grenade into the middle of the dinner.

“The reports were incomplete, Margaret,” I said, the words feeling like they were being dragged over sandpaper. “Daniel Hart died before he could defend the legacy he spent several years building.”

“How tragic,” Sonia sighed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “To leave behind such a... complicated history for his only daughter. It must have been so difficult for you, Ava. To go from a mansion to... well, wherever it was Nicholas found you.”

The whispers started then—soft, buzzing sounds from the corners of the room. I saw a journalist at a nearby table scribbling furiously.

“Enough,” Lucas said.

The word wasn't loud, but it had the authority of a gavel strike. He set his wine glass down with a definitive thud.

“We are here to celebrate a union, not to litigate the past,” Lucas continued, his gaze sweeping the table with a coldness that made even Mr. Sterling look away.

“Ava is a Carter now. And a Carter’s history begins the moment they take the name.”

I looked at him, shocked. He wasn't defending me because he cared. He was defending me because I was his. Because an insult to me was an insult to his choice.

But Margaret wasn't done.

“Of course, Lucas. You’re right,” she said, her smile widening into something truly terrifying. “We should focus on the future. In fact, I have a special surprise for the keynote toast tonight. A video tribute to the families joining together.”

She looked at me, and in that moment, I saw the true depth of her malice.

“I think everyone will find the footage... illuminating,” she whispered.

I felt a cold sweat break out on my skin. If she had the police records... if she had footage of the night I was bailing out of that holding cell after trying to find my father’s documents... she was going to play it in front of everyone.

I looked at Lucas. For the first time, I saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. He didn't know what was in that video.

The lights in the ballroom began to dim. A projector screen lowered slowly behind the head table.

The wedding was in less than twenty four hours. But as the first image appeared on the screen, I realized I might not even make it through the next ten minutes.