Bound by Scandal

The Night Before

The penthouse was too quiet.

Ava stood in the center of her designated room—a space Liam had promised would be hers, though it still felt like a gilded cage. The walls were a soft, neutral gray, the furniture modern and sleek, the bed dressed in silk sheets that whispered of luxury. It was perfect. Impersonal. His.

She ran her fingers over the surface of the dresser, her reflection staring back at her from the mirror above it. The ivory wedding dress hung on the door, a silent sentinel. A reminder.

Tomorrow, she would marry Liam Carter.

Tomorrow, her life would no longer be her own.

A knock at the door made her jump. She turned as it opened, her breath catching as Liam stepped inside. He was dressed in a dark, tailored suit, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his gray eyes sharp and unreadable. The scent of bergamot and something darker wrapped around her, familiar and intoxicating.

“You’re still awake,” he said, his voice low.

Ava crossed her arms, her fingers digging into her elbows. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Liam stepped further into the room, his gaze dropping to the dress hanging on the door. “Nerves?”

“Regret.”

His jaw tightened. “You’ve made your feelings clear.”

Ava met his gaze, unflinching. “Have I?”

Liam’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—irritation? Amusement? “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

Ava’s fingers curled into fists. “And you’ve made it abundantly clear that you don’t care.”

Liam stepped closer, close enough that she could see the faint stubble on his jaw, the way his pulse jumped in his throat. “I care about the child you’re carrying. That’s enough.”

Ava’s chest tightened. “Is it?”

Liam’s hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. Not tight enough to hurt. Just tight enough to remind her who was in control. “It has to be.”

Ava wanted to pull away. Wanted to slap him. Wanted to kiss him.

But she didn’t do any of those things.

Because the truth was, she was tired.

Tired of fighting. Tired of pretending she didn’t feel the pull between them, the electric current that hummed beneath her skin whenever he was near.

Liam’s thumb traced slow circles on her wrist, sending a jolt through her. “You’re trembling.”

Ava’s breath hitched. “I’m cold.”

Liam’s gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered. “Liar.”

She didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because the truth was, she was trembling.

But it wasn’t from the cold.

Liam released her wrist, stepping back with a roughness that betrayed his carefully controlled exterior. “You should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Ava wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers digging into her skin. “I don’t need you to tell me what to do.”

Liam’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “No. But you need me to remind you.”

Ava’s pulse spiked. “Of what?”

“That you’re mine.”

The word hung between them, heavy and irreversible.

Ava’s chest heaved, her breath coming fast. “I’m not a thing, Liam. I’m not a possession.”

“No,” he agreed, stepping closer again. “You’re my wife.”

Ava’s hands clenched. “Not yet.”

Liam’s gaze darkened. “Close enough.”

Ava wanted to argue. To tell him he was wrong, that she was still her own person, that she would never be his.

But the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing in the world worth having—made her pulse stutter.

Liam’s hand cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone. “Sleep, Ava.”

Ava didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Because the truth was, she didn’t want to sleep.

She wanted to feel.

And Liam Carter made her feel more alive than she ever had.

Liam’s hand dropped, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. “Goodnight, Ava.”

Ava exhaled, slow and shaky. “Goodnight, Liam.”

He turned, striding toward the door with the confidence of a man who knew he’d already won.

Ava waited until the door clicked shut behind him before sinking onto the edge of the bed, her body trembling.

She was marrying him tomorrow.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to stop it.