Contracted hearts

Chaos

Chapter Three



My heart clenched as the unfiltered memories from last night hit me with one vicious punch after the other. I’d let a complete stranger do things to me, things I wouldn't even admit. The heat of his body, the hunger in his eyes, the way he made me forget everything. I had surrendered completely. No hesitation. Just escape. And wasn't that what I wanted from the start? To forget, to be someone else just for a while, but all I'd done was create another memory to haunt me. Still, it wasn’t just about last night, it was about the sequence of my entire life. I was nothing but a puppet and just last night, I danced on a different stage.

A buzz vibrated against my hand, the caller ID flashing Gwen's name. My heart leaped into my throat. We used to be inseparable, but lately, I had been dodging her calls. She was desperate to know where I was, and I just couldn't tell her yet. But now, I needed my best friend more than ever.

“Ava! Oh my God, finally!” Gwen's voice was a frantic rush of relief and fear. “Where are you? I've been worried sick!”

"I'm fine, Gwen. I’m well," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "What's wrong?"

"Your dad…he called me," she said, and a new wave of fear rose in my throat. "He's been looking for you."

"I know," I snapped, a sharp edge of impatience lacing my tone. "He wants to sell me off like I'm a piece of furniture."

A long, heavy silence followed. Then, Gwen's voice returned, softer and more hesitant. "Ava… that's not why he called. It’s your mom. She’s at the hospital. He said she's…not doing well. They don't think she has much time left." The words hit me like a physical blow and the world seemed to stop spinning. My mum. My kind, gentle mother, whose hospital bills were the flimsy excuse for my arranged marriage. The one woman who had ever truly loved me, who had tried countlessly to shield me from dad’s selfish desires. I didn't waste any time exchanging goodbyes with Gwen as the phone slipped from my numb fingers, and I was running out of my apartment, flagging down a taxi heading home.

***

My father was waiting for me downstairs when I got home, almost like he’d known I'd come. He wore a simple sweater and lines of deep worry spread across his forehead. My heart broke into many pieces as he stared at me sadly and stepped forward.

“Ava, you came home,” he said softly. I flinched from his touch. “Where is she?” I demanded, my voice raw and trembling. "What hospital is she in?" He held up his hands in a placating gesture. “Patience, my dear, she's resting now, we can go to her after you attend a small…gathering with me.”

Disbelief turned to a cold, hard rage. He was still trying to manipulate me, still putting his selfish needs before my dying mother. A cold fury simmered in my veins. "I will not do what you want," I ground out, the words a low snarl. "Not until you tell me where she is! Where did you take her?"

“It’s just one meeting,” he said, ignoring my fury. “One hour. And I’ll take you to meet her. This is for your future. For hers.”

The threat was unmistakable, and it flashed in his eyes. If I didn't cooperate, he would make sure I never saw her again. The sheer audacity of his blackmail made my head swim, but I had no choice. I was going to be his puppet one more time. I wiped the tears from my eyes as my voice turned into a strained whisper. “Fine. But this is the last time you'll ever get to use me.”

He smiled, a tight-lipped, victorious smirk, and gestured toward the waiting car. With a heart heavy with resentment, I changed into the dress he had laid out for me, a suffocatingly expensive gown that felt like a cage and I joined him at the back of his car as we rode in painful silence.

The car pulled up to a towering skyscraper of steel and glass, and a cold dread seized me. I recognized the building instantly. A property of the Laurent empire — Billionaire George Laurent, my father's "ancient friend." The name alone was a disease. A sixty-year-old divorcee with three grown children, a man who married young women every year and discarded them just as fast. The same man my father wanted to marry me off to in order to save his dying company. This wasn't a meeting, it was a formal introduction to my arranged marriage.

“You said it was a board meeting!” I hissed, anger bubbling in my chest. A few eyes swept over us, and my father eyed me sternly. “Ava, behave. Important people are here.”

"So what? You lied to me! This is all about you, what you want! What about me? Why do you keep using me?" More eyes turned our way, and my father's smile faltered as a nervous tic appeared on his cheek. “Ava, behave, or you won’t see your mom ever again.” His threat was cold, brutal, and unyielding. Tears burned my eyes. I was about to be sold off to a man nearly three times my age. My father’s triumphant smile was my undoing as I fell silent. With my head bowed in defeat, he led me into a spacious conference room, filled with esteemed families made up of billionaires.

It was an ongoing meeting and many eyes fell on us as we joined the table. “Our families are here to celebrate years of success and market domination. But today, we’ll be celebrating more than that. Two families here will be uniting with Laurent’s family.”

My world was falling apart, and I had no control over it. I pulled my hand away from my father’s hold as the host continued. “The first is the marriage between multi-billionaire George Laurent and the beautiful daughter of the Deveraux family. Ava Deveraux.”

My heart clenched like a fist at the mention of my name. Claps and screams of excitement rang through the air, but I barely heard them. It felt like a death sentence. My gaze drifted to George Laurent sitting across the table and the predatory smile on his face made my skin crawl. He was old enough to be my father, yet he stared possessively at me as if he had just won a prize. A fresh toy to do whatever he wished with. I fought the urge to cry as my gaze swept over the many faces of people staring at me and clapping until it landed on the head of the table.

A man sat there, in a sleek, tailored suit. His dark brown hair was pulled back, revealing a sharply defined jaw. He stared dead at me, his stormy grey eyes widening just slightly.

Recognition. Shock. And then something darker. My stomach twisted into violent knots.

It was the man from last night.

My nameless one-night stand.