Married To The Devil Who Bought My Revenge

002: A Marriage Of Vengeance

~Ava's POV~

His mouth was on mine before I could second-guess myself. He wasn’t gentle, nor was he asking permission… he just responded

I kissed him back with everything I had: all the rage and grief and betrayal I'd been suffocating under for five years, and he took it all. His hands moved to my waist and pulled me closer.

"Are you sure?" he asked against my lips.

"Don't ask me that," I said, already working at his shirt buttons. "Just... don't let me think."

"I can do that."

He kissed me again, deeper this time, walking me backward until my legs hit something soft. The couch. His hands found the zipper of my ruined wedding dress.

"This dress cost forty thousand dollars," I said as he peeled it off.

"I'll buy you ten more." He tossed it aside without looking. "Better ones."

"I hate you a little bit right now."

"Good." His mouth moved to my neck. "Use it."

And I did.

I used every ounce of anger, every bit of hurt, every moment of feeling small and invisible and worthless. I poured it all into kissing him, touching him, needing him in a way that had nothing to do with love and everything to do with proving I was still alive.

He understood. Somehow, he understood exactly what I needed.

When we finally made it to his bedroom, he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered in the world. "You're not nothing," he said, his forehead pressed against mine. "You've never been nothing."

I pulled him down to me, needing to believe it was true.

—

I woke up to sunlight coming in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block it out, but my head was already pounding. My mouth tasted like regret and expensive whiskey.

For one beautiful second, I didn't remember any of it.

Then it all came crashing back: the cathedral, Lily's announcement, my father disowning me, the club, Dominic.

Oh God. Dominic.

I sat up too fast, clutching the sheet to my chest. I was naked… like completely naked. Wait, where were my clothes?

"You're awake."

The voice made me jerk my head toward its source.

Dominic was sitting in the leather chair across the room, watching me. He was fully dressed in a white shirt and dark slacks, looking like he'd been up for hours. His expression was unreadable.

"How long have you been sitting there?" I asked.

"Long enough."

"That's not creepy at all."

He didn't react. "You were unconscious for twelve hours. I needed to make sure you didn't have alcohol poisoning."

"By staring at me?"

"By monitoring your breathing." His tone was cold. "You consumed enough whiskey to hospitalize someone half your size."

I pulled the sheet higher, suddenly very aware that I was naked and he was... not. "Where are my clothes?"

"Your wedding dress is in the trash. It was ruined." He gestured toward a chair where a black shirt was draped. "That's mine. You can wear it."

I grabbed the shirt and pulled it on under the sheet, trying to maintain some dignity. My hands were shaking.

"Did we..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Have s*x?" He completed it for me. "Yes."

The room tilted as flashes of memory hit me: his hands, his mouth, the way he'd looked at me… but it was all fuzzy around the edges.

"I don't... I barely remember."

"You were drunk. Not unconscious, but impaired." He stood, moving toward the windows. "If it helps, you were very clear about what you wanted."

Heat flooded my face. "That doesn't help."

"You kissed me first. Said you didn't want to think. I simply obeyed."

"And you just... went along with it?"

"You're an adult. You made a choice." He turned to look at me, and his eyes held no single emotion. "Unless you're about to tell me you regret it and want to file charges. In which case, I have security footage that shows you initiated."

"Security footage?"

"This is Manhattan. Everything is recorded."

I stared at him. "You're serious."

"I don't joke about legal liability."

"Jesus Christ." I pressed my hands to my face. "This is... I can't believe I..."

"Slept with a stranger?" He crossed his arms. "You did. It happened. Now we move forward."

"Move forward? Move forward?" I almost laughed. "I just woke up naked in the apartment of the Butcher of Wall Street, apparently had s*x I barely remember, and you're talking about moving forward?"

"What would you prefer? That I pretend to be in love with you? Feed you some romantic fantasy about how last night was special?" His eyes were steel. "Last night was convenient. For both of us. You needed somewhere to go. I provided it. You needed a distraction. I provided that too."

The bluntness hit like a slap. "Wow. You're really something, you know that?"

"I'm honest. Most people find it refreshing after being lied to their entire lives."

He had a point.

I looked around for my phone and spotted it on the nightstand. Fifty-three missed calls. Twenty-seven text messages.

"My family's been calling."

"I know. Your phone's been going off since 6 AM." He walked to his desk. "You should probably turn it off unless you want to read what they're saying about you online."

"What are they saying?"

"Do you really want to know?"

I grabbed my phone and immediately regretted it. The notifications were wild.

#HaleWeddingDisaster trending worldwide.

"Disgraced Heiress Storms Out of Wedding" "Jilted Bride Replaced by Pregnant Sister" "Ava Hale Disowned by Father in Cathedral Scandal"

The comments were worse. Some people sympathized, but most were gleeful about my humiliation.

My father had given an official statement: "Ava has always been unstable and selfish. This behavior, while disappointing, is not surprising. The Hale family wishes her well but will no longer be associated with her actions."

I threw the phone across the bed.

"They made me forgettable," I whispered. "They didn't just disown me. They erased me."

"Then make them remember." Dominic's voice broke my train of thought. "Make them remember exactly who you are."

I looked up at him. "And how do I do that?"

"By making them pay." He pulled a folder from his desk and set it on the bed in front of me. "I've been watching your family for a long time, Ava. Hale Industries. Hart Enterprises. The merger. All of it."

I opened the folder, and inside were financial records, email chains, documents I'd never seen before.

"How did you get all this?"

"I make it my business to know things." He sat on the edge of the bed, maintaining careful distance. "Your father's been embezzling for six years. The Hart merger wasn't about growth. It was about covering bankruptcy. Damien has gambling debts exceeding his salary. Your mother funnels charity donations into offshore accounts."

My hands shook as I flipped through the papers. "This is..."

"Evidence. Of everything they've done. Everything you've been covering up for five years without realizing it."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Because twenty years ago, my father worked for Silas Hale." His voice went flat. "Your father destroyed him for refusing to participate in something illegal. Framed him for embezzlement. Ruined his reputation. My father killed himself rather than face trial for crimes he didn't commit."

The air left my lungs. "What?"

"I was seventeen when I found him." Dominic's eyes were empty. "And I've been planning revenge ever since."

"So this..." I gestured between us, at the bed, at everything. "Last night. Bringing me here. All of it. This was about revenge?"

"No." He met my eyes. "Last night was about you needing somewhere to go and me providing it. This conversation is about opportunity."

"What opportunity?"

"Marry me."

I almost dropped the folder. "What?"