Chapter 7 The Board's Test
978 Words
The next evening arrived too quickly.
Ava stood in front of the full-length mirror in her suite, smoothing the black silk gown that hugged her curves like a second skin. The neckline dipped low enough to be daring but not scandalous, the slit up one leg high enough to show a flash of thigh when she moved. Diamonds glittered at her ears and throat—gifts from Alexander that morning, delivered with a simple note: *For tonight. Wear them.*
She hated how much she loved how they looked.
Downstairs, the private dining room of the exclusive rooftop restaurant had been reserved for the board of Blackwood Enterprises. Seven powerful men and women who could decide Alexander’s future—and hers, by extension.
She took a deep breath, slipped on strappy heels, and headed down.
Alexander waited at the bottom of the staircase.
He wore a charcoal tuxedo that fit him like it was made for sin. His eyes darkened as they swept over her, lingering on the diamonds, the dress, the way the silk clung.
“You look…” He paused, voice rough. “Dangerous.”
She lifted her chin. “Good. I feel dangerous.”
He offered his arm. She took it.
They stepped into the elevator together, the small space charged with tension. His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist—once, twice.
“Remember,” he murmured, “they’re watching every move. Every touch. Every word.”
“I know,” she said softly. “We’re the perfect couple.”
His jaw tightened. “We’re more than that.”
She didn’t reply. She wasn’t sure what they were anymore.
The elevator opened to the rooftop. The city sprawled below like a sea of lights. A long table had been set with crystal and silver, candles flickering against the night. The board members were already there, glasses in hand, conversations low and sharp.
Alexander’s grip on her arm tightened slightly—a warning or reassurance, she couldn’t tell.
“Everyone,” he said smoothly, voice carrying across the roof. “Allow me to introduce my wife. Ava Blackwood.”
Heads turned. Eyes assessed. Smiles were polite but cold.
One man—older, silver-haired, the board’s chairman—stood. “Mrs. Blackwood. A pleasure. We’ve heard… interesting things.”
Ava smiled, all grace. “I’m sure you have.”
They took their seats. Alexander pulled out her chair, his fingers brushing her back as she sat. A small gesture, but deliberate.
Dinner began.
The conversation was light at first—business deals, market trends, the weather. But Ava felt the undercurrent. Every question was a test.
“So, Mrs. Blackwood,” the chairman said, swirling his wine. “How did you and Alexander meet?”
Ava met his gaze steadily. “Professionally. He stole a client from my firm.”
A ripple of laughter. Alexander’s hand found her knee under the table—warm, steady.
“True,” he said, voice amused. “She never forgave me.”
“Yet here you are,” another board member—a sharp-eyed woman—said. “Married.”
Ava smiled. “Sometimes hate is the best foundation.”
More laughter. Alexander’s thumb traced a slow circle on her skin.
The chairman leaned forward. “The clause in your father’s will is clear. Marriage must be genuine. Stable. We need assurance this isn’t… temporary.”
Alexander’s hand stilled. “It’s not.”
Ava turned to him. “Is it?”
The table went quiet.
Alexander’s eyes locked on hers. “No.”
The chairman raised a brow. “You sound certain.”
“I am,” Alexander said. “Ava is my wife. In every way that matters.”
Ava’s heart pounded.
The woman board member smiled thinly. “We’ll see. There’s a gala next month. Bring her. Show us.”
Alexander nodded. “We’ll be there.”
Dinner continued. More questions. More tests.
Ava answered with poise, charm, a touch of fire. Alexander watched her like she was the only person in the room.
When dessert arrived, he leaned in, lips brushing her ear.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered.
She shivered. “Don’t get used to it.”
He smiled against her skin. “Too late.”
The night ended with handshakes and promises. The board left one by one.
In the elevator down, silence again.
Ava turned to him. “Did we pass?”
He looked at her—really looked. “We did more than pass.”
She stepped closer. “How do you know?”
“Because I meant every word.”
Her breath caught.
The elevator dinged. Doors opened to the penthouse.
He took her hand. Led her inside.
The door closed behind them.
She turned to him. “Alexander—”
He kissed her.
Not gentle. Not careful.
Hungry.
His hands framed her face, mouth claiming hers like he’d been starving for it all night.
She kissed him back—hard, desperate, fingers tangling in his hair.
He backed her against the wall, body pressing into hers.
The dress rode up. His hand slid under the slit, finding bare thigh.
She gasped.
He broke the kiss, breathing ragged. “Tell me to stop.”
She didn’t.
Instead, she pulled him closer.
“Bedroom,” she whispered.
He lifted her like she weighed nothing. Carried her down the hall.
They didn’t make it to the bed.
The hallway wall. The living room couch. The staircase landing.
Everywhere.
Clothes scattered like promises.
Skin on skin.
Names whispered like prayers.
When they finally collapsed onto his bed, tangled and breathless, he held her close.
“I meant it,” he said into her hair. “This is real.”
Ava closed her eyes.
She wanted to believe him.
She was starting to.
But in the dark, a small voice whispered.
What if it’s not enough?
- Writer
