The Billion Dollar Wife

#10.

The drive back home from the warehouse was a blur of rain-slicked pavement and the low hum of the Mercedes. Dominic gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white against the leather. The exhaustion was more than physical. The crisis at the docks had been handled with his usual ruthless way but the silence of the night allowed the image of Ava’s defiant face to seep back into his mind.

He pulled into the garage of the estate, the engine cutting out with a final sigh. As he stepped out, the cool night air hit him hard. His security detail emerged from the perimeter, their movements synchronized and silent.

"Guard the gates," Dominic commanded, his voice raspy from a night of barking orders. He paused, his gaze flickering toward the darkened windows of the upper floor. "Keep a sharp eye on any movement. That includes my wife. If she so much as breathes like a threat, I want to know."

The men exchanged a fleeting, puzzled look—a silent communication between partners. It was an unusual directive for a honeymoon night, yet they simply bowed their heads. Dominic didn't wait for their acknowledgement. He turned on his heel and strode toward the house, his boots echoing on the stone.

The master suite was a sanctuary of hushed luxury, but as Dominic pushed the door open and flicked the light switch, the air shifted. The golden glow of the chandelier flooded the room, and there, perched on the edge of the chaise lounge, was Ava.

She was a vision of calculated ruin. The red lace of her lingerie was a vibrant, sinful contrast against the pale cream of her skin. It left little to the imagination, clinging to her curves like a second skin. Dominic’s breath hitched in his throat. He didn't turn away, he let his gaze rake over her, unashamed and hungry, even as his brow furrowed in deep suspicion.

"My dear husband is finally back," she murmured.

She rose to her feet, the movement fluid and intentional. Dominic felt a momentary wave of shock, his composure nearly collapsing under the sheer weight of her presence. He swallowed hard, the copper taste of the lip she had bitten earlier still lingering as a phantom pain.

"What are you planning now, girl?" he asked, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. He began to move, circling her with the slow gait of a predator evaluating a new and unexpected prize.

Ava didn't flinch. She watched him move, a small, enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "Oh, nothing at all. I simply figured I would say my goodnight before you retired. It would be quite unladylike of me to sleep before my dear husband returned, wouldn't it?"

She turned, her hips swaying with a practiced grace as she made a move toward the door, her scent—something like jasmine and cold steel trailing in her wake. Dominic’s hand shot out, his fingers encircling her wrist just as she passed him.

"Or perhaps," he whispered, pulling her back into his space, "you’ve come here to finish what we started this afternoon?"

Ava didn't melt into him. Instead, she ripped her arm from his grasp with an indignant jerk. "That sounds incredibly sexy, Dominic, but I’m afraid I’m just not interested."

The rejection sparked a flash of heat in his chest. He lunged forward, grabbing her by the waist and hauling her flush against his chest. The proximity was electric, the thin lace offering no protection against the heat of his body.

"What is it you want, Ava?" he demanded, his face inches from hers. "Name your price. Is it money? Jewels? Some scrap of power? Tell me what it is, because right now, God help me, I want you."

He leaned down, his nose brushing the sensitive skin of her neck, inhaling deeply. He expected her to shatter, to give in to the tension, but she remained rigid. She pushed against his shoulders, creating a space between them.

"What could your money possibly do for me that I haven't already considered?" she said, her voice dripping with a cold, mocking sweetness.

Dominic’s lip curled into a smirk, though there was no humor in it. "My money could do a great deal. Let’s be honest, Ava—you’ve been a gold digger from the very start. You trapped me in this marriage for a reason, and we both know it wasn't for the pleasure of my company."

The smile vanished from Ava’s face as if he had struck her. Her eyes sparked with a raw, genuine fire. "You really don't know anything," she shot back, her voice trembling with a suppressed emotion he couldn't quite name.

The vulnerability in her tone only hardened him. He stepped closer, his shadow looming over her. "The only thing I can’t give you is my life," he said darkly, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "I’m going to investigate you, Ava. I’m going to dig until I find out who you truly are and who you’re really working for. And I pray to God I don't find anything messy. Because if I do, I will end you. You, and every single soul that shares your bloodline."

Ava stiffened, her breath hitching. For a moment, the mask slipped, and he saw a flicker of genuine terror in her eyes. Dominic let his gaze drop one last time, watching the frantic, heavy beat of her heart against the red lace of her chest. The sight of her fear shouldn't have been so intoxicating.

"Now get out," he growled.

The command was final. Ava didn't wait for a second invitation. She turned and bolted from the room, the sound of her bare feet on the hardwood fading into the distance.

Dominic stood alone in the center of the room, the silence rushing back in to fill the void she had left. His blood was still racing, a chaotic mix of lust and loathing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the screen before he punched in a number.

"Dig into my wife’s profile," he barked into the receiver the moment the call connected. "Everything. Her school records, her bank accounts, her associations. Find out anything you can, and do it immediately."

He didn't wait for a reply before hanging up. “If I find out anything fishy about you, so help me God, Ava, I’ll end you.” He growl.