Chapter 2: The Stranger
973 Words
Ava did not sleep.
She lay in the king-sized bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to the silence. The penthouse was too quiet. Too perfect. Too much like a cage.
At 6 AM, she gave up. She showered. Dressed in jeans and a sweater. She refused to wear the designer clothes hanging in the closet. They weren't hers.
She walked to the kitchen.
A chef was already there. "Good morning, Mrs. King. What would you like for breakfast?"
"Toast. Coffee."
"That's all?"
"That's all."
The chef looked confused but nodded.
Ava sat at the kitchen island. The counter was marble. Cold. Expensive. She missed her father's small kitchen. The chipped mugs. The mismatched plates.
---
Alexander appeared at 7 AM.
He was dressed in a black suit. His hair was wet. His eyes were sharp.
"You're up early."
"I couldn't sleep."
"The bed isn't comfortable?"
"The bed is fine. The situation isn't."
Alexander poured himself coffee. Black. No sugar.
"You signed the contract."
"I had no choice."
"There is always a choice."
Ava stood. "You keep saying that. But you don't really believe it."
He looked at her. His gray eyes were unreadable.
"Breakfast will be served in the dining room at 8 AM. I expect you there."
"I'll eat here."
"The dining room."
"Why does it matter where I eat?"
Alexander set down his cup. "Because you are Mrs. King now. Appearances matter."
Ava wanted to argue. But she was too tired.
"Fine. The dining room."
---
The dining room was ridiculous.
A table that could seat twenty. Crystal chandeliers. Fresh flowers.
Ava sat at one end. Alexander sat at the other. They might as well have been in different buildings.
The chef served eggs. Bacon. Fresh fruit.
Ava ate in silence.
"Today, we meet with the lawyers," Alexander said. "They will explain the details of our arrangement."
"What arrangement?"
"Your duties. My expectations."
Ava set down her fork. "I'm not a employee."
"You're my wife."
"Same thing, according to you."
Alexander's jaw tightened. "You are difficult."
"I'm honest. There's a difference."
---
The lawyers arrived at 10 AM.
Three men in expensive suits. They spread papers across the dining table.
Ava read every word. She had learned from her father's mistakes. Never sign anything without reading.
"The events are mandatory," one lawyer said. "Galas. Fundraisers. Corporate dinners."
"What if I'm sick?"
"Then you are sick. But attendance is expected."
Ava nodded. "What about my father?"
"Mr. King has already paid the debt. Your father's company is solvent."
"Can I see him?"
Alexander spoke. "Once a week. For now."
Ava looked at him. "For now?"
"Trust is earned. You have not earned it yet."
She wanted to scream. But she held her tongue.
---
The lawyers left at noon.
Ava stood by the window. The city stretched below her. Millions of people. Living their lives.
She felt trapped.
"You're quiet," Alexander said.
"I'm thinking."
"About what?"
"About how I got here."
He walked to stand beside her. Close. Too close.
"You walked in on your own. No one forced you."
"My father's debt forced me."
"You chose to save him. That's not force. That's love."
Ava turned to face him. His gray eyes were soft. For just a moment.
Then the coldness returned.
"The first event is Friday. A charity gala. Wear something appropriate."
"What's appropriate?"
"Claire will help you."
He walked away.
---
Claire arrived at 2 PM with dresses.
Dozens of them. Silk. Satin. Lace.
Ava felt like a doll being dressed.
"This one," Claire said, holding up a black gown.
"It's too expensive."
"Mr. King is paying."
"That's the problem."
Claire sighed. "Miss Bennett. May I speak freely?"
"Please."
"Mr. King is not a monster. He's damaged. There's a difference."
"I don't care about his damage. I care about my freedom."
Claire nodded. "Fair enough. But give him a chance. You might be surprised."
---
Ava chose the black gown.
It fit perfectly. Too perfectly.
She looked at herself in the mirror. She didn't recognize the woman staring back.
Rich. Polished. Cold.
"Is this who I am now?" she whispered.
The mirror didn't answer.
---
At 7 PM, Alexander knocked on her door.
"Come in."
He opened the door. Stopped when he saw her.
The black gown. Her hair pinned up. A diamond necklace at her throat. His diamond necklace.
"You look..."
"What?"
"Different."
"Good different or bad different?"
He didn't answer. Just stared.
"The car is waiting," he said. "We have dinner reservations."
"Dinner?"
"The press watches. We need to be seen."
Ava grabbed her clutch. Followed him out.
---
The restaurant was exclusive.
No sign. No windows. A private elevator.
Alexander helped her out of the car. His hand on her lower back. Warm. Firm.
"Smile," he whispered.
She smiled. The cameras flashed.
Inside, they were seated at a private table. Candles. Roses. A violin played softly.
"This is romantic," she said.
"It's strategic."
"Same thing."
He almost smiled. Almost.
---
They ordered. Ate in silence.
"Why did you really marry me?" Ava asked.
Alexander set down his fork. "I told you. Image."
"Liar."
His eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
"There are a hundred women who would have said yes. Socialites. Actresses. Models. You chose me. Why?"
Alexander stared at her for a long moment.
"Because you're not afraid of me."
"I am afraid of you."
"You don't show it. That's rare."
"So you married me because I'm not a coward?"
"I married you because you're interesting."
Ava laughed. "That's the worst reason I've ever heard."
"It's the truth."
They finished dinner. Drove home in silence.
That night, Ava lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.
She was married to a stranger. A man who chose her because she was "interesting."
She didn't know if that was a compliment or a warning.
She was about to find out.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD