Chapter 3: The Gala
861 Words
The charity gala was held at the city's most exclusive hotel.
Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors. Women in gowns that cost more than Ava's father's house.
Ava stood beside Alexander, her hand on his arm. She wore the black gown Claire had chosen. Diamonds sparkled at her throat. Her hair was pinned up. Her lips were red.
She felt like an imposter.
"Smile," Alexander whispered.
She smiled. Cameras flashed.
"You're doing well."
"I'm pretending."
"Same thing."
---
Inside, the ballroom was enormous.
Tables with white cloths. Flowers everywhere. A live orchestra played soft music.
Alexander led her to their table. Front and center. Where everyone could see them.
"Champagne?" a waiter asked.
"No," Ava said.
"Yes," Alexander said at the same time.
They looked at each other.
"One glass," Ava said.
"One glass," Alexander agreed.
---
The other guests arrived.
Wealthy men. Their wives. Their mistresses.
Ava felt their eyes on her. Judging. Whispering.
"She's not from our world."
"Where did Alexander find her?"
"She must be after his money."
Ava's hands clenched. But she kept her smile.
---
A woman approached their table. Blonde. Beautiful. Expensive dress.
"Alexander, darling." She air-kissed both his cheeks. "I haven't seen you in ages."
"Victoria."
Victoria turned to Ava. Her smile was cold.
"And who is this?"
"My wife."
Victoria's eyes widened. "Wife? I didn't know you were married."
"We eloped."
"How romantic." Victoria's gaze traveled over Ava. Judging. Dismissing. "She's lovely."
"I know."
Victoria walked away. Ava exhaled.
"Who was that?"
"Victoria Kensington. My ex."
"She hates me."
"Victoria hates everyone."
---
Dinner was served.
Seven courses. Tiny portions. Fancy names.
Ava barely ate. Her stomach was in knots.
"You need to eat," Alexander said.
"I'm not hungry."
"Eat anyway."
"Don't tell me what to do."
He set down his fork. "You are my wife. At events, you do what I say. In private, you can argue all you want."
"That's not in the contract."
"It's implied."
"Imply this." She took a bite of food. Chewed. Swallowed. "Happy?"
Alexander stared at her. His gray eyes were unreadable.
"You're impossible."
"So you've said."
---
After dinner, there was dancing.
Other couples swirled across the floor. Laughing. Touching. In love.
Ava watched them. Wondered what that felt like.
"Dance with me."
Alexander's hand was extended. She hesitated.
"I don't know how."
"I'll lead."
She took his hand. He led her to the floor.
---
His hand was on her waist. Her hand was on his shoulder. They moved slowly. Carefully.
"You're stiff," he said.
"I'm nervous."
"Don't be."
"Easy for you to say."
He pulled her closer. Her body pressed against his. Her heart pounded.
"Breathe," he whispered.
She breathed.
"Better."
"What is this?"
"A dance."
"It feels like something else."
Alexander didn't answer.
---
The song ended. They pulled apart.
Victoria was watching from across the room. Her eyes were hard.
"Your ex is staring," Ava said.
"Let her stare."
"She wants you back."
"Victoria wants what she can't have."
"And what can't she have?"
Alexander looked at Ava. His gray eyes were intense.
"Me."
---
The gala ended at midnight.
Ava was exhausted. Her feet hurt. Her face ached from smiling.
Alexander helped her into the car. His hand on her lower back. Gentle. Surprising.
"You did well tonight."
"I survived."
"Same thing."
She almost smiled. "You're quoting me."
"You're quotable."
---
The drive home was quiet.
Ava stared out the window. The city lights blurred past.
"Alexander?"
"Yes."
"Why did you really marry me?"
He was silent for a moment.
"Because you're real."
"Real?"
"Everyone in my world pretends. They want my money. My power. My name. You don't."
"I want your money."
"You want your father's company saved. There's a difference."
"Is there?"
"Yes."
---
They arrived at the penthouse.
Ava walked to her room. Alexander followed.
"Goodnight, Mrs. King."
"Goodnight, Mr. King."
She closed the door. Leaned against it.
Her heart was pounding. Her hands were shaking.
She was married to a stranger. A man who said she was "real."
She didn't know what that meant.
But she wanted to find out.
---
Across the hall, Alexander stood by his window.
He was thinking about his new wife. Her fierce eyes. Her stubborn voice. The way she had refused to back down.
Victoria had tried to intimidate her. She had not flinched.
Other women would have cried. Begged. Clung to him.
Ava just stood taller.
"You're different," he whispered.
He did not know if that was good or bad.
But he was glad she was here.
---
The next morning, Ava woke early.
She walked to the kitchen. The chef was already there.
"Toast and coffee?"
"Please."
She sat at the island. Stared at the city below.
Alexander walked in at 7 AM. Black suit. Sharp eyes.
"You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep."
"Bad dreams?"
"New life."
He poured coffee. Sat across from her.
"We need to discuss the press."
"What about them?"
"They'll want interviews. Photos. Stories about our romance."
"Our fake romance."
"Our arrangement."
Ava set down her mug. "I won't lie."
"You won't have to. Just don't tell the whole truth."
"Same thing."
He almost smiled. "You're learning."
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