The Billion Dollar Wife

#17

The interior of the limousine and the ride was quiet. Dominic sat in the darkness of the plush seat, his gaze fixed on Ava with an intensity that lacked even a shred of modesty. He didn’t hide his scrutiny, his eyes moved over the shimmering gold of her gown, tracing the lines of her throat and the way the silk clung to her frame.

Ava felt the weight of his stare. She shifted, the sequins of her dress whispering against the upholstery. Eventually, she couldn't help herself and met his gaze. Her pulse skipped, and she offered him a small, nervous smile that barely reached her eyes before she looked away, swallowing hard against the tightness in her throat.

Dominic didn't look away. He turned his head slightly, his eyes performing another slow, thorough sweep of her silhouette.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ava asked, her voice quiet but edged with the friction of the evening.

"It’s nothing I haven’t seen before," Dominic replied, his tone clipped and cool. He adjusted the cuff of his tuxedo, though his eyes remained on her. "I’m simply surprised the garment suits you as well as it does. Usually, clothes like this wear the woman, not the other way around."

Ava leaned back, a flicker of her usual fire returning. "You know I look good, Dominic. There’s no need to pretend you’re just analyzing the tailoring."

Dominic didn't indulge her with a retort. He snapped his head back toward the front of the car, his jaw set in a hard, stubborn line. His fist clenched on his thigh, the fabric of his trousers straining against the tension in his hand.

The limousine slowed as they reached the grand entrance of the gala. The world outside was a chaotic swirl of flashing lights and shouting voices. When the car came to a halt, Dominic stepped out and moved to her side, opening the door with a decisive motion. He reached for her hand, his fingers clamping around hers with a firmness that felt more like a claim than a gesture of chivalry.

The moment they stepped onto the carpet, the paparazzi descended like a swarm. The air filled with the relentless strobe of cameras, and a barrage of questions rose above the din.

"Is this your wife, Mr. Dominic?"

"We never knew you had such exquisite taste, given the models you’re usually seen with!"

"Does your wife have a status of her own?"

"What family is she from? Who are her people?"

Dominic ignored them entirely as he guided her through the glass doors, his pace brisk and unyielding. Inside, the grand ballroom was a sea of velvet, champagne, and the low hum of the city’s elite. As they entered, a hush rippled through the nearest clusters of people. Heads turned, and eyes lingered on the gold clad woman at the arm of the man they all feared.

Dominic kept a firm grip on Ava’s hand, leading her straight toward the center of the room where his father stood. George looked up, a rare, genuine smile softening his weathered features as they approached.

"Dominic," George greeted, his voice booming over the music. He turned his attention to Ava, his eyes kind. "And Ava. You look absolutely radiant, my dear. How have you been settling in?"

Before she could answer, Silas drifted into their circle, his eyes raking over Ava with a familiar, predatory gleam. "You are the jewel of the evening, Ava," he murmured, stepping closer. He reached for her hand, intending to press a kiss to her knuckles.

Dominic’s reaction was instantaneous. He slapped Silas’s hand away with a stinging crack. Silas chuckled, unfazed, while Dominic’s eyes burned with a cold, silent warning.

Dominic spotted a group of business associates a few yards away and began to move toward them, clearly intending to leave Ava behind with his father. But George stepped into his path, his hand resting on Dominic's shoulder.

"Introduce her, Dominic," his father commanded. "Introduce your wife to everyone you greet tonight. She is part of this family now."

Dominic looked as though he wanted to argue, the muscle in his jaw working furiously, but he knew the futility of defying his father in public. He exhaled a frustrated breath and yanked Ava closer to his side, leading her toward the first group of guests.

They stopped before a man of significant standing and his elegantly dressed wife. They exchanged stiff, formal pleasantries, Dominic’s responses coming out in monosyllabic bursts. The man’s eyes, however, wouldn't stay on Dominic. They drifted to Ava, lingering with an appreciative heat.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Blackwood," the man said, taking her hand and pressing a lingering kiss to her skin. "I’ve heard rumors of your beauty, but they truly didn't do you justice."

His wife’s expression soured instantly. She gave Ava a stiff nod before tugging on her husband’s arm. "We really should move on, dear," she urged, her voice tight.

Dominic’s jaw tightened until it looked like it might snap. He didn't say a word, but his grip on Ava’s hand became almost bruising as he guided her toward another pair of associates. These were younger men, friends of Dominic’s who operated in the same ruthless circles.

"Dominic! You’ve been hiding her," one of them laughed, his eyes hungrily scanning the gold silk of Ava’s dress. "She’s stunning."

Both men reached for her hand, intent on the same Gallic greeting.

"Don't," Dominic snapped, his voice a low growl. "No kissing her hand."

The men laughed, exchanged a knowing look. "Jealousy, Dominic? That’s a new look for you. We’ve never witnessed you so protective. But then again, we can hardly blame you when your wife is as lovely as this."

Ava offered them a gentle, polite smile, though she felt the storm radiating off Dominic. The weight of his possession was beginning to feel like a lead shroud. She waited for a lull in the conversation, then quietly slipped her hand out of his.

"Where are you going?" he asked immediately, his eyes snapping to hers.

Ava pointed toward the far side of the room, where an elaborate spread of exotic fruits and hors d'oeuvres sat under a floral arch. "I’m hungry," she said simply, and before he could object or follow, she turned and walked away.

Dominic remained with the men, attempting to force his mind back to the talk of shipping routes and market shares, but his focus was fractured. His eyes constantly drifted across the ballroom, tracking the shimmer of gold. He watched the way other men, men he knew were predators watched her. He saw the way their heads turned as she passed, the way they leaned in to get a better look.

He grew increasingly restless, his responses to his friends becoming shorter and more distracted. His eyes locked on Ava just as a man, older, immensely wealthy, and notorious for his appetites approached her. The man moved into her personal space with a confident, oily smile, his posture intimate as he leaned toward her.

Dominic went perfectly still. The conversation around him died away as he detached himself from the group. He didn't run, but his stride was long and purposeful as he cut through the crowd, heading straight for them.