#7.

The ride back from the chapel was defined by a silence. Dominic sat reclined in the leather seat, his attention fixed entirely on his phone. The blue light from the screen cast a cold hue over his features, making his expression unreadable, almost statuesque. He didn’t offer a single glance toward the woman sitting inches away from him. Ava, who had prided herself on her composure just an hour ago, felt that internal fortress beginning to crumble. The adrenaline of the black dress and the public defiance was draining away, leaving behind a cold anxiety. She looked out the window, but her heart was beating fast. Had she pushed the boundary too far? She had spent so much energy playing her part that she hadn't truly accounted for the man she had provoked. Dominic was a stranger in many ways, a man of power and reputation, and she began to wonder if the "real" side of him, the one hidden under the tailored suits and the stoic silence—was something she was prepared to face. Fear twisted in her gut. She thought of the way he had whispered in her ear at the altar, the promise of control he had made. A shudder passed through her, and she realized her hands were trembling. She reached down, her fingers gripping her gown with such force that her knuckles turned a porcelain white. Beside her, Dominic didn't look up from his device, but a slow, knowing smirk tugged at his mouth. He didn't need to see her face to know the exact moment her bravado had failed. The car slowed, turning off the main road and gliding into the gates of a white mansion. It was a monolith of modern architecture, stark and imposing against the sky. Ava’s mouth dropped open slightly as she took in the scale of the estate. It was beautiful, yes, but it felt more like a fortress than a home. The car came to a smooth halt. Dominic moved with a sudden, fluid efficiency, stepping out and rounding the vehicle to open her door. Ava remained frozen in the seat, her mind caught in a loop of "what ifs." "Come out," Dominic growled, his voice low and impatient. "Or would you prefer I carry you across the threshold like a proper groom?" The bite in his tone snapped the fog in her brain. Ava straightened her spine, the familiar spark of irritation returning to steady her nerves. She stepped out of the car, her heels clicking on the pavement as she smoothed down her dark skirts. "I was just thinking, that’s all," she shot back, her voice a little higher than she intended. Dominic didn't move. He stood there, looming over her, his eyes traveling from the hem of her black dress up to the defiant tilt of her chin. He looked as though he were appraising a difficult piece of property. "You know, for someone of such a small stature, you have a remarkably sharp mouth," he said, his voice dropping into a dangerous register. He stepped closer, invading her personal space until she could smell the faint scent of cedarwood on his skin. "You really have no idea what awaits you, little girl." Her eyes snapped to his, wide and searching. "And what exactly are you going to do?" she challenged, her voice trembling just enough to betray her. Dominic didn't give her the satisfaction of an answer. "We’ll see," he responded simply, turning on his heel and walking toward the grand entrance without looking back. One of the household staff stepped forward to gather her luggage, and Ava followed Dominic inside, her heart thumping a frantic rhythm against her ribs. The interior was just as cold as the exterior, echoing hallways and art that looked more like curated displays of wealth than items of comfort. When she reached the living room, she found Dominic already settled on a sprawling leather couch, his phone back in his hand as if the wedding and the woman in the room were merely minor distractions. Ava stood in the center of the room, feeling small and out of place in her dramatic gown. "Show me to my room," she said, trying to inject authority into her voice. "I’m exhausted." Dominic’s thumb stilled on the screen. He slowly raised his gaze, his eyes locking onto hers with a piercing intensity. He stood up, the movement slow, making her feel even more diminutive as he rose to his full height. "Your room?" he repeated, his voice silky. "I believe you mean our room." Ava felt her breath hitch, a physical catch in her throat that she couldn't hide. She saw his eyes flicker down to the pulse jumping in her neck, a predatory glint appearing in his gaze. "My room," she snapped, taking a half step back. "I am not sleeping in the same room as you. We might be married on paper, but that is as far as it goes." Dominic didn't argue. Instead, he began to walk toward her. He didn't stop until he was towering over her, his shadow stretching across the floor. "What’s wrong, love?" he asked, his voice a low purr. "I thought you were so eager for this union just two days ago. You seemed quite determined to see this through." Ava’s eyes widened. "I wasn't eager," she denied, her voice breathless. "I am only doing this for your father, nothing more." "Hmm. Is that the story we're telling?" Dominic mused. He reached out, his movements too fast for her to dodge. He grabbed her hand, his fingers circling her wrist like a shackle. "You trapped me in this marriage, Ava. You played your hand, and you won the title. And since we are officially husband and wife, I think it’s time we started behaving like it." "Let go of me!" she yelled, pulling against his grip, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He didn't let go. He began to lead her toward the stairs, dragging her behind him with a terrifying ease. Ava stumbled slightly, her heavy skirts tangling around her legs, but he didn't slow down. She continued to protest, her voice echoing off the high ceilings, but he remained silent until they reached the top of the landing and he swung open a set of double doors. He released her then, stepping back to let her enter. The bedroom was immense, but it offered no warmth. The interior was a study in elegance, deep grays, stark whites, and charcoal blacks. It was beautiful, in a sterile, intimidating way, with clean lines and expensive textures that felt as cold as the man who owned them. "We’re in our room, wifey," Dominic growled, his voice thick with a sudden, dark intent. He watched her as she stood in the center of the rug, looking like a dark bird caught in a cage. "And I find I’m in quite the mood for our wedding night." Ava stiffened, her entire body locking up. She began to walk toward the door, her eyes darting around for an exit, for any way to reclaim the distance she had lost. "You must be out of your mind," she said, her voice shaking. Before she could reach the threshold, Dominic moved. He slammed the door shut with a resounding thud that seemed to vibrate through her very bones. He leaned against the wood, blocking her path, his eyes dark and focused entirely on her. "Undress, dear wifey," he growled.