The billionaire mansion
949 Words
Ava Moore barely slept.
The contract sat on her kitchen table like a loaded weapon.
Every time she looked at it, she felt sick.
Every time she thought about Noah's hospital bills, she felt worse.
The morning after signing, she convinced herself she had made the biggest mistake of her life.
By noon, Ethan Blackwood's assistant arrived at her apartment.
Three luxury SUVs lined the street outside.
The neighbors practically pressed their faces against the windows.
Ava wanted to disappear.
"Miss Moore," the assistant said politely. "Mr. Blackwood sent me to help with your move."
"Move?" Ava repeated.
The assistant looked confused.
"To Blackwood Manor."
Right.
The mansion.
The twelve-bedroom mansion.
The mansion she had somehow agreed to live in for an entire year.
Ava groaned.
"This is really happening."
---
Two hours later, she stood before the enormous iron gates of Blackwood Manor.
Her jaw dropped.
The estate looked less like a house and more like a palace.
Perfect gardens stretched across acres of land.
Fountains sparkled beneath the afternoon sun.
Luxury cars sat in a circular driveway large enough to fit her entire apartment building.
"No one needs this much money," she muttered.
The gates opened.
The SUVs rolled forward.
And Ava entered her new home.
A home that wasn't really hers.
A marriage that wasn't really real.
A life that felt borrowed.
The front doors opened before she even reached them.
A middle-aged woman with silver hair greeted her warmly.
"Welcome, Mrs. Blackwood."
Ava nearly choked.
"Oh no. Please don't call me that."
The woman smiled.
"I'm afraid everyone will."
"I'm afraid I might faint."
That earned a laugh.
"I'm Margaret, the house manager."
"Nice to meet you."
Margaret led her inside.
The interior was somehow even more ridiculous.
Crystal chandeliers hung from ceilings higher than some apartment buildings.
Paintings lined the walls.
A grand staircase curved through the center of the entrance hall.
Ava turned in a slow circle.
"This place has its own weather system."
Margaret covered a smile.
"Mr. Blackwood is in his office."
"Of course he is."
"Would you like me to take you there?"
Ava sighed.
"Might as well meet my fake husband."
---
Ethan's office occupied an entire wing of the mansion.
The doors opened.
He didn't look up.
His attention remained fixed on several computer screens displaying financial reports.
Typical.
Ava walked inside.
Nothing.
Not even a greeting.
She folded her arms.
"You know, most husbands acknowledge their wives."
Ethan continued typing.
"Most wives don't insult their husband's house within thirty seconds of arriving."
Ava blinked.
"You heard that?"
"The security cameras have audio."
"That's creepy."
"It is efficient."
She rolled her eyes.
Ethan finally looked up.
His expression remained unreadable as ever.
But for a brief second, his gaze lingered.
On her face.
Her hair.
The nervous way she shifted her weight.
Then he returned to work.
"Your room has been prepared."
"My room?"
"The east wing."
"So we're really doing the separate wings thing?"
"Yes."
"Good."
His eyebrow lifted slightly.
"You sound disappointed."
Ava laughed.
"You wish."
For the first time, Ethan actually smiled.
A tiny smile.
Gone in an instant.
But it was there.
And somehow, it changed everything.
Because it made him look human.
Dangerously human.
---
That evening, Ava unpacked her belongings.
Which took exactly twenty minutes.
Her entire life fit into three suitcases.
Meanwhile, one of Ethan's closets was larger than her old apartment.
She sat on the edge of her enormous bed and stared out the window.
The city lights glittered in the distance.
Somewhere out there was the bookstore.
The hospital.
The life she used to have.
Her phone rang.
Noah.
She answered immediately.
"Hey."
"You're rich now?"
Ava burst out laughing.
News traveled fast.
"Who told you that?"
"The nurses."
"Of course they did."
Noah's voice softened.
"You paid the hospital bill."
Ava looked down.
"Yeah."
A long silence followed.
Then—
"You saved me."
The words hit harder than she expected.
A lump formed in her throat.
"Noah..."
"Thank you."
Ava blinked back tears.
"Always."
After hanging up, she sat quietly for several minutes.
The contract.
The mansion.
The fake marriage.
Maybe it was worth it.
Maybe.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
She opened the door.
Margaret stood outside.
"Mr. Blackwood requests your presence at dinner."
"Requests?"
Margaret smiled.
"That means he's asking."
"And if I say no?"
"He'll come get you himself."
Ava sighed.
"Fine."
---
The dining room was absurdly large.
A table built for twenty people sat in the center.
Only two seats were occupied.
One by Ethan.
One waiting for her.
"This is ridiculous," Ava said as she sat.
"What is?"
"The table."
Ethan took a sip of water.
"It belonged to my grandfather."
"Did he host royal families?"
"Twice."
Ava nearly dropped her fork.
"You are impossible."
Dinner passed in surprising peace.
Until Ethan suddenly asked—
"Why did you agree?"
Ava froze.
He already knew why.
Money.
Noah.
The bookstore.
Yet something in his voice suggested he wanted the real answer.
She looked up.
"Because I ran out of choices."
For the first time, Ethan's eyes softened.
Only slightly.
But enough.
Because when he spoke again, his voice sounded different.
Less like a billionaire.
More like a man.
"Sometimes," he said quietly, "choices run out faster than people think."
Ava stared at him.
And for the first time since meeting Ethan Blackwood, she wondered what had happened to make him look so lonely.
The question stayed with her long after dinner ended.
And somewhere down the empty halls of Blackwood Manor, a dangerous curiosity began to grow.
Because the more Ava learned about Ethan Blackwood...
The less fake this marriage started to feel.
- Writer
