CHAPTER 4: BOUND BY A NAME
616 Words
Ava’s phone wouldn’t stop buzzing.
What the hell?
Grumbling, she reached for her phone on nightstand. The moment she unlocked it, her entire screen flooded with notifications.
News articles. Messages. Social media tags.
And there it was— her face plastered next to Rhys De Montaigne in bold headlines:
“Rhys De Montaigne Surprise Engagement— who is Ava Monteverdes?”
“Mystery Woman Steals the Heart of the Billionaire CEO”
“From a Small Clothing Store to High Society— A Cinderella Story or a Scandal?”
Ava’s stomach dropped.
What. The. Hell.
Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through the comments.
“Gold digger.”
“She must be using him for money.”
“I give this marriage three months stops.”
“Poor girl. She has no idea what she got herself into.”
Her pulse pounded. The world had decided to pick apart her life overnight, twisting it into a spectacle.
And the worst part?
She hadn’t even married him yet.
Ava stormed downstairs, marching straight toward the grand dining room of De Montaigne.
Rhys sat at the long marble table, calmly drinking his coffee, as if the world hadn’t just exploded around them.
She slammed her phone onto the table.
“Are you kidding me?”
Rhys barely lifted his gaze. “Good morning to you too.”
Ava’s hands clenched into fists. “Did you see this? My face is everywhere! People are calling me a gold digger!”
He sipped his coffee. “You expect privacy when you signed the contract?”
Her jaw tightened. He was so infuriatingly unbothered.
“You could have at least warned me!” she snapped.
Rhys finally set his cup down, leaning back in his chair, his dark eyes flickering with amusement.
“Would that have been changed anything?”
Ava opened her mouth— then shut it.
Damn it. He was right. But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“I hate you,” she muttered under her breath.
Rhys smirked. “You’ll have to do better than that, sweetheart. We’re getting married.”
Ava exhaled sharply, turning away. She had to get out of here before she lost her mind.
“Where are you going?” Rhys called lazily.
“To clear my head,” she snapped.
Rhys didn’t respond.
Later that day, Ava arrived at Maison De Luca, a luxury boutique, with zero enthusiasm.
The last thing she wanted was to try on wedding dresses for a fake marriage.
The designer, Luca Moretti, was a charming Italian with an eye for detail— and a flirty personality.
As he adjusted the bodice of her dress, he winked.
“Bellissima. You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the country.”
Ava smiled, finally feeling at ease for the first time that day.
Then the boutique’s glass doors swung open.
The air shifted.
Ava didn’t have to turn around to know who just entered.
Rhys.
His presence was unmistakably— intimidating, powerful, and filled with something darkly possessive.
Luca grinned. “Ah, the lucky groom arrives!”
He turned back to Ava, adjusting her waist.
“What do you think, mio amore? Does it feel comfortable?”
Ava didn’t have time to answer.
Because in the next second, Rhys was there.
His hand wrapped firmly around her waist, pulling her back against his chest.
His voice was low, dangerous. “I don’t remember allowing another man to touch my fiancée.”
Luca raised his hands in surrender, chuckling.
“Relax, Mr. De Montaigne. I’m a designer, not a threat.”
Luca smirked at her, then turned to Rhys.
“Your fiancée is breathtaking. You’re a lucky man.”
- Writer
