Loving the enemy

Chapter 12

Ava’s pov

The car slowed as the Vance estate came into view, and I held my breath.

It wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. I stared in awe as I looked through the tinted windows of the car. Daniel sat in front with the driver scanning the area carefully as we drove in.

My fingers clenched around the small clutch in my lap. I had spent hours preparing for this moment, and still, the place made me feel small, like an intruder walking into a kingdom that wasn’t mine.

Liam sat beside me, calm as ever, one hand resting on mine. He hadn’t said much on the drive, but now, I felt his eyes flick toward me.

“Breathe,” he said softly.

“Easy for you to say. You grew up in this world.”

“And now, so did my wife.” His lips curved. Looking at me with amusement.

I shot him a look. “Wife? Don’t start using that like a magic word. It’s not going to stop me from embarrassing you in front of your mother.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, completely unbothered. “Then at least do it in style. If you’re going to scandalize my family, do it with good posture.”

The gates opened with a slow groan, the car rolling forward like we were being swallowed whole.

When we stopped at the entrance, a valet opened my door and I stepped out watching as Daniel did the same from the passenger seat. Liam joined me, straightening his suit jacket with the ease of a man born to power. He glanced at me briefly, his hand brushing the small of my back as we approached the doors.

The doors opened, and there she was.

Elaine Vance.

Her eyes landed on Liam first, softening instantly, her smile practiced but warm. “Darling.” She reached for him, kissing his cheek as though he hadn’t almost died weeks ago. Then, her gaze shifted to me.

And sharpened.

“Well.” Her voice was honey dipped in glass. “So this is the woman who finally tamed my son.”

I gave her a polite smile. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mrs. Vance.”

Her lips curved, but her eyes didn’t. “We’ll see.”

We stepped into the dining hall, and I almost forgot to breathe. The table stretched so long it could have fit my entire apartment on top of it. White linen lay smooth across the surface with silvery cutlery. Servants moved in silence, pouring wine and adjusting candles. It didn’t feel like dinner.

Elaine took her seat at the head of the table. Liam and I sat across from her.

“You’ve caused quite the stir, Ava,” she said smoothly as she cut through her salad. “Marrying Liam in… secrecy. Not a single photograph, not a whisper. Remarkable, really.”

I lifted my glass of water as I took a sip. “Some things are better when they’re just ours. Private.”

Her eyes stayed on me, so sharp it felt like they could cut right through me. “And yet now, suddenly, you are everywhere. The gala, tonight. A wife revealed, just in time for my son’s return to society.”

My pulse jumped, but I didn’t break her stare. “I go where my husband goes.”

Liam picked up his glass of wine, his face giving nothing away, but I could still feel him watching me from the side.

Elaine set down her fork, folding her hands neatly. “Tell me, Ava… What exactly do your parents do?”

The question hit like a slap. Not who are your parents. Not where did you grow up. What do they do—as if value could only be measured by occupation, by contribution to her world.

“My parents live in the countryside. They own a farm,” I said evenly. “But they worked hard. They gave me everything they could. My mom fell sick and I started waiting tables to help out with the hospital bills.” I half lie.

A flicker of something crossed her face. Not pity—calculation. She moved on. “And your education? Where did you attend?”

“Community college,” I replied. “Scholarship.”

That one landed harder. Her smile thinned, like I’d just confirmed everything she suspected.

But I didn’t shrink. I set my fork down gently, leaning forward just enough. “Mrs. Vance, I know I don’t come from your world. But Liam didn’t fall in love with me because of where I studied or what my parents did. He fell in love with me because of who I am.”

The room went quiet, the only sound that could be heard was of a servant adjusting the cutlery. Elaine glanced at Liam, like she was checking if I was telling the truth.

Liam, damn him, only smirked faintly and sipped his wine. He watched us with the same quiet amusement from yesterday.

Elaine leaned back, her face giving nothing away. “We’ll see,” she said again, softer this time, almost like a promise.

And I realized—this wasn’t dinner. It felt like the first move in a battle.

For a moment, the sound of silverware and quiet conversation filled the room, but I could still feel Elaine’s eyes on me. Calculating.

At last, she set her knife down with a soft click that even made the staff pause. “Tell me, Ava,” she said smoothly, “how did you and Liam meet? A love story that led to a wedding in Reno must have some spark.”

My throat went tight. I had gone over this in my head so many times, but under her stare, every word felt risky.

“I was in Vegas with friends one night,” I said carefully. “At a bar near the Strip. Liam came in.”

I could remember a time the tabloids stated that Liam was in Vegas for business. I used such to my advantage.

Elaine raised a brow, like she had already guessed I would say that. “Waiting tables.”

“No, I came out to have fun.” I said, meeting her eyes. “Not waiting tables that night.”

She gave a small smile, but it never touched her eyes. “And my son… a man surrounded by investors, models, and women who’ve been trained since birth to belong in our world… fell for a waitress?”

The way she said it wasn’t a question. She said it with so much disgust.

I steadied myself. “He needed someone real. I gave him that.”

Elaine let the words linger, her face hard to read. Then she tilted her head. “Or perhaps he needed someone who knew how to serve.”

The comment stung more than I expected, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. Before I could answer, Liam’s hand covered mine, steady and warm.

“That’s enough,” he said, his tone low, final. “You wanted to meet my wife. You’ve met her. You don’t need to test her like she’s on trial.”

Elaine’s eyes shifted between us, and for a split second I caught it. The smallest crack in her perfect composure. Disapproval, yes, but something else too. Calculation. She wasn’t done with me.

She leaned back, her smile returning, smooth as glass. “Of course. A mother asks questions. Forgive me, Ava, if I press too much. Old habits.”

“Of course,” I said softly, giving her a fake smile.

And just like that, the talk went back to the meal, but the tension stayed, hanging in the air.

I keep wondering when the night would be over. When it just started.