Lord of the World

Prologue The smell of antiseptic stung my nose as I clutched the pregnancy report in my trembling hands. Three years of marriage, and I had finally gotten pregnant. After countless injections, prayers, and tears, a tiny life was growing inside me. I raced home, my heels clicking against the marble floor of the mansion that had never felt like mine. Excitement bubbled in my chest. Maybe this baby would fix everything. Maybe Liam would finally look at me the way he used to. I found him in the study, his back to the door. He was on the phone. "She's finally pregnant," he said, his voice cold and clipped. "Yes. The inheritance clause is satisfied. Have the divorce papers ready." The report slipped from my fingers. It fluttered to the floor like a dying bird. He turned around. No surprise. No guilt. Just those icy gray eyes I had spent three years trying to warm. "You heard me," Liam said, ending the call. "Grandfather's will stated I needed an heir by thirty to claim the company. You've served your purpose, Ava." "Served my... purpose?" My voice cracked. "This is our child." "No." He stepped closer, and his next words shattered my world completely. "That child is a transaction. And transactions have an expiration date." He tossed a check onto the desk. "That covers the surrogacy. You have twenty-four hours to leave." I don't remember walking out. I only remember the rain soaking through my clothes as I wandered the city streets, one hand pressed against my stomach. That's when the black limousine pulled up beside me. The window rolled down, revealing a man with eyes darker than midnight. "Ava Sterling?" His voice was smooth velvet wrapped around steel. "My name is Damien Black. I have a proposition for you. Marry me, and I'll help you destroy the man who just threw you away." Lightning split the sky. I looked from the mansion I'd been exiled from, back to the stranger offering me vengeance. "Get in the car," Damien said. It wasn't a request. And I did. Because Liam thought he had broken me. He thought I would disappear quietly with his check and his heir. He was wrong. The meek wife he discarded was dead. And whoever rose from her ashes would make him pay.