Bound by Scandal

The First Night

The penthouse was silent, the city lights casting long shadows across the marble floor. Ava stood in the center of the living room, her fingers trembling as she unzipped her wedding dress. The fabric pooled at her feet, a whisper of silk against her skin. She was left in her slip, the cool air raising goosebumps along her arms.

She could feel Liam’s presence before she saw him. The air seemed to hum with his energy, a low, electric current that set her nerves on edge. She turned as he stepped into the room, his tie loose, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar. His gray eyes were dark, unreadable, his gaze tracing her body like a touch.

“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 closer, close enough that she could smell his cologne—bergamot and something darker, like old books and lightning. “Nerves?”

Ava met his gaze, unflinching. “Regret.”

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

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

Liam’s expression didn’t change, but something flickered in his eyes—irritation? Amusement? “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 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 married to him now.

And the worst part?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to stop it.

Ava lay in bed, the silk sheets cool against her skin, her mind racing. She could hear Liam moving in the room next door, the soft rustle of fabric, the creak of the floorboards. She wondered if he was thinking about her. If he was as restless as she was.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She reached for it, her stomach twisting as she read Mira’s text:

Mira: You okay? You’ve been quiet..

Ava’s fingers flew over the screen.

Ava: I’m fine. Just tired.

Mira: Liar. Talk to me.

Ava hesitated, then typed:

Ava: I don’t know what to say.

Mira: Say the truth. How do you feel?

Ava’s throat tightened. She typed slowly, carefully:

Ava: Lost.

The response was immediate.

Mira: You’re not lost, Ava. You’re finding yourself. Even if it’s in the middle of a damn hurricane.

Ava’s vision blurred. She typed:

Ava: What if I don’t want to be found?

Mira: Then don’t be. Don’t let him break you, either.

Ava set her phone down, her gaze landing on the wedding ring on her finger. It glittered in the dim light, a cold, brilliant promise.

She was Mrs. Liam Carter now.

And nothing would ever be the same.