The Billion Dollar Wife

#9.

Ava stood frozen under the spray, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Then, she heard it, the distinct, heavy click of the bedroom door settling into its frame.

She reached out with a trembling hand and wrenched the handle, killing the flow of water instantly. The sudden silence was deafening, broken only by the frantic thrumming in her ears. She waited, lungs burning as she held her breath, listening for the sound of a footstep or the rustle of a heavy coat. When nothing came, she crept to the bathroom door and peeked into the bedroom.

The room was empty. The air felt disturbed, as if someone had recently occupied the space, but the predator had moved on. Ava let out a long, shuddering sigh of relief that collapsed into a sob she quickly suppressed. She wrapped a plush towel tightly around her shivering frame, her skin still prickling from the adrenaline of their earlier confrontation.

She reached for her phone, her fingers slick with moisture. With a shaky thumb, she dialed a number she knew by heart, a number that represented her only tether to a world that didn't involve Dominic’s suffocating presence. It didn't ring twice before a deep, familiar male voice filled the line.

"Happy married life, dear Ava," the man said, his tone carrying a trace of warmth that felt entirely misplaced in the cold reality of her new life.

Ava squeezed her eyes shut, leaning her forehead against the cool glass of the window. "I don’t really want the congratulations," she whispered, her voice tight with resentment. "This is all according to the arrangement, remember? Now that the vows are spoken and the ring is on my finger, what is the next step? How much longer must I endure this theater?"

There was a pause on the other end, a heavy sigh that spoke of long-standing burdens and secrets. "You need to get close to him, Ava. Truly close. You have to get inside his head. You are a master of seduction—use that. You can do it."

Ava let out a bitter, hollow laugh, her eyes rolling toward the ceiling. "Master of seduction, you say? Is that what I am now? A lure on a hook?"

"Yes, Ava," the man’s voice sharpened, the warmth replaced by a hard, driving edge. "We need to get to the bottom of this. Never forget why we are doing this. That man ruined your life. Your brother is dead because of him. He is the reason your world collapsed. Play him. Seduce him. Make him fall so deeply in love with you that he hands you the keys to his kingdom without a second thought."

Ava’s free hand balled into a fist, her knuckles turning a ghostly white. The mention of her brother sent a fresh wave of grief and cold fury through her veins, but the memory of the bedroom—of the way Dominic had looked at her tripped her pulse.

"He nearly killed me forty minutes ago," she lied, the lie a testament to the sheer terror she had felt when his hands were upon her.

"Dominic would not kill a woman," the man countered immediately, his confidence unwavering. "A man? I cannot guarantee his safety. But a woman? No. He has his codes, warped as they may be. You have the power in your hands, Ava. You just have to be brave enough to wield it."

Ava stared at her reflection in the darkened window, seeing a stranger with hard eyes and a trembling lip. She nodded slowly, even though he couldn't see her.

"Very well," she said, her voice dropping into a low tone. "I’ll play the game further. I'll be the wife he didn’t plan to have."

"Be safe, princess," the man murmured.

The line went dead. Ava stared at the black screen for a long moment before tossing the phone onto the bed. She didn't have the luxury of fear anymore. She pulled on a silk robe, tying the sash with a decisive jerk, and headed downstairs.

The house felt different now—less like a home and more like a fortress. Dominic’s men were everywhere, stationed like stone gargoyles in the foyer and the corners of the grand hallway. They were hard-faced men with eyes that saw everything and revealed nothing.

"Hey," she called out, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.

One of the men detached himself from the wall and walked toward her. His movement was fluid and predatory, a silent reminder of the kind of world Dominic inhabited. Ava swallowed hard, forcing herself not to step back as he came to a halt a few feet away, looming over her.

"Where is Dominic?" she asked, her chin tilted upward in a show of defiance she didn't entirely feel.

"Boss went for an important meeting," the man responded, his voice a gravelly monotone.

Ava let her gaze travel over him, eyeing him from head to toe with a calculated look of disdain, masking her internal tremors. "And when is he expected back?"

"At night," the man said simply.

Ava gave a curt nod, offering no thanks. She turned and retreated back up the stairs, her mind whirring with the instructions she had just received. She entered her dressing room and began to go through her luggage, tossing aside the modest silks and the heavy velvets until her fingers snagged on something delicate.

She pulled out a piece of crimson lace, a lingerie set that looked like a splash of blood against the pale carpet. It was provocative, expensive, and entirely weaponized.

She held the garment up, looking at the intricate patterns of the lace. A slow, dark smirk spread across her face, the grief for her brother hardening into a resolve.

"I’ll make you beg on your knees tonight, Dominic," she whispered to the empty room.

With a fluid motion, she let her robe fall to the floor, stepping into the red lace as she prepared to set the trap.