The Billion Dollar Wife

#8.

Ava stiffened, her lungs seizing as she drew in a ragged, shallow breath.

"You must be out of your mind!" she roared, the sound tearing from her throat in a rasp.

She lunged for the door, her fingers clawing at the polished wood, desperate for the hallway, for the street, for anywhere that wasn't here. But the exit was a mile away in her mind, and Dominic was a shadow that moved faster than light. His hands, large and unyielding, clamped around her waist. He hoisted her off her feet with a grunt of exertion, ignoring her frantic squirming, and threw her onto the expansive silk duvet. He wasn't violent, the landing was cushioned but the indignity of it sparked a fire in her blood.

"You bastard!" she screamed, her voice cracking as she scrambled to find her footing on the shifting mattress.

Dominic stood at the foot of the bed, a pillar of cold, hard certainty. He didn't flinch at the insult. Instead, he began to undo his tie with a slow grace that made Ava’s skin crawl. The silk slid through his fingers like a noose being loosened.

"You’re my lawfully wedded wife," he said, his voice a low, dangerous vibration in the quiet room. "You wanted this marriage, Ava. You plotted for it. Now you must face whatever comes your way."

His fingers moved to the top button of his shirt. The sight of his throat, the casual way he began to undress, sent a jolt of pure panic through her. She didn't stay to argue. She scrambled off the opposite side of the bed, her heels catching in the rug as she tried to put the furniture between them.

He didn't let her get far. In two strides, he had bridged the gap, his hand yanking her toward him until her chest collided with his half unbuttoned shirt. The heat radiating from him was stifling. He tilted his head, his dark eyes searching hers for a second of submission before he bent his mouth toward hers, intent on claiming a territory he believed he had bought and paid for.

Ava didn’t hesitate. As his lips brushed hers, she clamped her teeth down on his lower lip with every ounce of resentment she possessed.

Dominic let out a sharp yell of pain, recoiling as the copper taste of blood filled his mouth. He pressed a hand to his lip, staring at the crimson stain on his fingers with an expression of stunned disbelief.

"You little—" he began, his voice dropping an octave, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"Don’t you dare mess with me," Ava hissed, her body trembling but her gaze unwavering. "Else I’ll murder you in your sleep. I mean it, Dominic. Try that again and you won't wake up."

The silence that followed was heavy, taut enough to snap. Then, to her utter fury, the corner of his mouth twitched. A low, rumbling chuckle started in his chest, growing until he was openly laughing at her. The tension didn't vanish, it transformed into something far more mocking.

"You’ll kill me?" he asked, his eyebrows arched in genuine amusement.

He didn't move to strike back or even to argue. Instead, he turned and let his body fall back onto the bed, sprawling out across the pillows with a casual, taunting elegance. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with a sudden, playful malice.

"Cmon, finish me then, darling," he said, his voice dropping into a husky, provocative drawl. He spread his arms wide, exposing his chest. "I'm right here. Do your worst."

Ava’s eyes widened. The sheer arrogance of his invitation—the way he mocked her agency, turned her stomach. She couldn't stay in the room with his laughter. Without a word, she spun on her heel and bolted for the door. This time, he didn't rise to stop her.

Dominic watched her small, retreating figure vanish into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind her. He remained on the bed for a moment, the laughter fading into a smirk. He wiped a stray drop of blood from his lip, the sting a reminder of her fire.

"You haven’t seen anything yet," he murmured to the empty room.

He climbed down from the bed, his movements fluid. He adjusted his shirt, smoothing the fabric over his shoulders before reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The mask of the playful husband dropped, replaced by the cold, sharp edges of the man who ran an empire from the docks. He hit a speed dial and waited exactly three seconds.

"Meet me at the warehouse in twenty minutes," he ordered, his voice no longer husky, but barking with the authority of a man who was never disobeyed.

The voice on the other end began to stammer, offering a string of excuses and complications about the hour and the short notice. Dominic cut him off mid sentence, his jaw tightening.

"No explanation needed," he snapped. "I want to see you now."

He ended the call before the other man could breathe. He stripped out of his wedding attire, the discarded silk and wool falling to the floor like the remnants of a performance he was finished with. He stepped into the shower, the cold spray washing away the scent of the wedding, and emerged minutes later to pull on a pair of dark trousers and a heavy sweater—clothing meant for work, not for show.

Grabbing his car keys and phone, he stepped out into the corridor. The house was too quiet, the air unsettled by Ava’s flight. He didn't think she had left the grounds, she had nowhere to go and no keys to get there. He began to move through the upper floor, his instincts guiding him.

He paused in front of a guest suite at the far end. A faint sound reached his ears—the muffled hiss of a shower. He turned the handle, it was unlocked. He entered silently, his footsteps disappearing into the thick carpet. He stood in the center of the darkened room, listening to the rhythm of the running water behind the bathroom door. He imagined her in there, trying to wash the evening off her skin, unaware that he was standing only feet away. A smirk tugged at his mouth as he stepped closer.

Suddenly, the phone in his pocket vibrated with an insistent buzz.

He pulled it out, the screen illuminating his face in the gloom. It was a message from his lead foreman.

‘Boss pls be present here. Something just happened.’

Dominic stared at the words, the urgency of the text clashing with the quiet thrill of the hunt he was currently engaged in. He looked at the bathroom door, then back at the glowing screen. A curse hissed under his breath, a low sound of genuine irritation.

He took a slow step back, then another, reversing out of the room with the same silence he had used to enter. He didn't look back as he closed the door, “I’ll come back for you little lady” he whispered under his breath and walk away.