The billionaire revenge marriage

chapter 6:Red

Red was a mistake.

The dress Ares picked was the color of arterial spray. Floor length. High slit. Back cut to my waist. It said _look at me_ and _don’t touch_ in the same sentence. The tag said $47,000. I wore it like armor.

Security called him “Sir.” They called me “Mrs. Callahan.” Nobody said Mia. That girl died at City Hall with a pen in her hand.

The car was silent. Ares in a tux. Me in sin. The bullet in my clutch. His gun under his jacket. Our rings caught the streetlights. Matching. Heavy. Final.

“Rules,” he said as we pulled up. Flash bulbs popped outside like gunfire. “You don’t leave my side. You don’t drink anything I don’t hand you. You smile for photos. And when my father shows up—”

“I kiss you.”

“You kiss me like you did at 3AM.” His eyes met mine in the mirror. “Or he’ll know it’s fake. And he’ll send worse than a bullet.”

The door opened. Noise hit. _Dr. Callahan! Mrs. Callahan! Over here!_

His hand went to my lower back. Bare skin. Brand. He kept his body between me and the crowd.

“Smile, wife,” he murmured against my ear.

So I did.

The gala was white and gold and lies. Crystal chandeliers. Ice sculptures. People who owned hospitals talking about charity while wearing diamonds worth more than Rosa’s life.

Ares introduced me. “My wife, Mia.” No last name. No explanation. Just possession.

They stared. The whispers started fast. _The cleaner. From St. Michael’s. He paid her sister’s bills._

I sipped champagne he handed me. Counted exits. Three. Counted guards. Eight. All ours.

Richard found us at 9:07 PM.

He looked like Ares in twenty years. Same grey eyes. Same build. But where Ares was controlled fury, Richard was permafrost. The kind of cold that came from burying things and sleeping fine after.

“Son,” Richard said. Didn’t look at me. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest.”

“She’s not a guest,” Ares said. Fingers pressed into my waist. “She’s family.”

Richard’s eyes slid to me. Took in the red dress. The ring. The scar on my collarbone. “Mia Torres. Your father owed me money. Gambler.”

“Past tense,” Ares said.

“Debts transfer.” Richard lifted his glass. “Like titles.” He toasted me. “To the new Mrs. Callahan. May she live longer than the last one.”

Ice. My blood stopped.

Ares went still. The dangerous kind. “What did you say?”

“Oh. Didn’t he tell you?” Richard looked at me, pity painted on. “There was another Mrs. Callahan. Seven years ago. Car accident. Very tragic. Very convenient.”

Ares’ fingers dug into my hip. Not pain. A warning.

“Enough,” Ares said.

“Just conversation.” Richard set his glass down. “She looks good in red. The last one preferred blue. They found her in it. In the river.”

I couldn’t breathe.

Ares moved. Stepped between me and Richard. Blocked him completely. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m nostalgic.” Richard checked his watch. “Enjoy the party. I’ll see you Monday. We’ll discuss Rosa. So many complications with dialysis patients. Accidents happen.”

He walked away. Gone.

I was shaking.

Ares turned. Saw it. Took my champagne. Set it down. Took my hand instead.

“Dance with me,” he said.

He led me to the floor. Pulled me close. One hand on my bare back. The other held my hand to his chest. His heart was racing. Like mine.

“Look at me,” he said. Quiet. “Not at him. At me.”

I looked.

“There was no car accident,” he said. “Elena drowned. It wasn’t an accident. He had her killed when I refused to sign over my shares. Thought I’d break. I built an army instead.”

“Why marry me—”

“Because you’re not her.” His eyes dropped to my mouth. “You fight back. You bit me. She never would have. Good gets you killed in my family.”

The music slowed. People watched. Cameras flashed.

Richard watched from the bar.

Ares leaned down. Forehead to mine. “Kiss me, Mia. Right now. Make him see it. Make him know he can’t take you too. Make it real.”

I didn’t think.

I stood on my toes. Grabbed his tie. Kissed him.

Hard. Open. Teeth and tongue. His hands came to my face. Held me like glass. Kissed me back like I was solid.

The world went away.

When we broke apart, people clapped. They thought it was romance.

Richard wasn’t clapping. He was gone.

Ares’ thumb traced my jaw. “Good girl,” he said. Too quiet for anyone else. “Now we go home. If he left, he’s planning.”

He led me off the floor. Into the night.

I didn’t let go of his hand.

And he didn’t let go of mine.