Bound by Scandal

The Rehearsal Dinner

The private dining room of Le Mirage was bathed in golden light, the chandeliers casting shimmering reflections on the crystal glasses and polished silverware. Ava stood near the floor-to-ceiling windows, her fingers tracing the stem of her wine glass. The city skyline stretched beyond the glass, a glittering reminder of the world she was about to leave behind—or at least, the world as she knew it.

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 didn’t turn as he approached, but she could hear the soft tread of his footsteps, the faint rustle of his tailored suit.

“You’re late,” she said, her voice steady despite the flutter in her stomach.

“So are you.”

Ava finally turned, meeting his gaze. Liam looked impossibly handsome in his dark suit, his gray eyes sharp and assessing. He held out a small velvet box, his fingers brushing hers as she took it. Inside lay a pair of sapphire earrings, their deep blue color a perfect match for the ring on her finger.

“A gift,” he said, his voice low.

Ava’s throat tightened. “I can’t accept this.”

“You can. And you will.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, lingered. “Consider it a wedding present.”

Ava wanted to argue. To tell him she didn’t want his gifts, his control, his anything. But the way he looked at her—like she was already his—made her pulse stutter.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Liam’s smirk was slow, dangerous. “Good girl.”

Ava’s fingers curled into her palms, her nails biting into her skin. She wanted to slap him. To kiss him. To scream.

The door to the dining room swung open, and a wave of laughter and chatter spilled in. Liam’s family. His world. Ava’s stomach twisted as she recognized the cold, assessing gazes of the Carter clan. His mother, Eleanor, was a vision of icy elegance, her blonde hair swept into a perfect chignon, her diamond necklace catching the light like a warning. His father, Richard, stood beside her, his expression stern, his posture rigid.

Liam’s hand found the small of her back, his touch a brand. “Ready?”

Dinner was a minefield.

Ava sat beside Liam at the long, polished table, his family arrayed around them like judges at a trial. Eleanor’s gaze was sharp, her questions sharper.

“So, Ava,” she said, her voice smooth as silk. “Tell us about yourself.”

Ava met her gaze, unflinching. “What do you want to know?”

Eleanor’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Where are you from? What do your parents do?”

Ava’s fingers tightened around her fork. “I’m from the city. And my mother was a teacher.”

“Was?” Eleanor’s eyebrow lifted.

“She passed away when I was eighteen.”

A beat of silence. Then, “How tragic.”

Ava forced a smile. “It was.”

Liam’s hand found hers beneath the table, his fingers squeezing gently. A warning. A promise. She didn’t pull away.

Richard cleared his throat, his gaze flicking to Liam. “And your father?”

Ava’s smile didn’t waver. “He left when I was young. I don’t remember him.”

Eleanor’s expression softened—just slightly. “You must be so strong, dear. Raised by a single mother. It’s no wonder you’ve turned out so… independent.”

Ava’s spine stiffened. “Yes. It is.”

Liam’s thumb traced slow circles on her skin, sending a jolt through her. She didn’t look at him. Couldn’t.

Because the truth was, she was strong.

And she wasn’t about to let Eleanor Carter make her feel otherwise.

The dessert plates were cleared, the coffee poured. Ava’s stomach was a knot of tension, her smile fixed in place like a mask. She could feel Liam’s on her, heavy and unrelenting. But she didn’t look at him. Couldn’t.

Not when his family was watching.

Not when she was so close to breaking.

Eleanor set her cup down with a clink, her gaze sharp. “So, Ava. Tell me, what do you do?”

Ava met her gaze, her voice steady. “I’m an artist.”

Eleanor’s smile was polite. Patronizing. “How lovely. And do you sell your work?”

Ava’s fingers tightened around her napkin. “Yes.”

“Where?”

“Galleries.”

Eleanor’s eyebrow lifted. “Any I might know?”

Ava’s chest tightened. “Perhaps.”

Liam’s voice cut through the tension, smooth and controlled. “Ava’s work is incredible. She’s going to be very successful.”

Ava’s gaze flicked to his, surprise warming her chest. But Liam’s expression was carefully blank, his gaze fixed on his mother.

Eleanor’s smile didn’t waver. “How wonderful.”

Ava’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out, her stomach twisting as she read the text.

Mira: You okay? You look like you’re about to murder someone.

Ava’s fingers flew over the screen.

Ava: I’m fine. Just peachy.

Mira: Liar. Call me after.

Ava slipped her phone back into her pocket, her gaze lifting to meet Liam’s. He was watching her, his expression unreadable.

“Everything alright?” he asked, his voice low.

Ava forced her smile. “Perfect.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. But he didn’t push. Didn’t argue.

And for the first time that night, Ava felt like she could breathe.

The dinner ended with polite goodbyes and hollow promises to see each other soon. Ava stood beside Liam as his family filed out, their goodbyes as cold as their greetings. Eleanor pressed a kiss to Liam’s cheek, her gaze flicked to Ava.

“Take care of her, darling,” she said, her voice sweet. “She seems… fragile.”

Ava’s spine stiffened. But she didn’t argue. Didn’t snap.

Because the truth was, she was fragile.

And Eleanor Carter knew it.

Liam’s hand found the small of her back as they walked to the elevator, his touch a brand. “You did well,” he said, his voice low.

Ava didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Because the truth was, she didn’t feel like she’d done well.

She felt like she’d survived.

And survival was a far cry from winning.