The CEO's Reluctant Bride

The night of the charity gala arrived with an unsettling mix of anticipation and nerves. Ava stood before the grand entrance of the ballroom, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses echoing through the walls. Lights from the chandeliers bathed the room in a golden glow, casting a dreamy yet intimidating atmosphere.

"Relax," Adrian's voice broke through her thoughts, steady and composed. He adjusted his cufflinks, his tailored suit fitting him like a second skin, exuding effortless power. "You're acting like you're walking into a battlefield."

"Feels like one," she muttered, smoothing her midnight-blue gown. The dress clung to her in all the right places, the silver necklace Adrian had chosen earlier gleaming at her throat.

His gaze drifted over her once more, unreadable. "Just stay close."

As they stepped inside, a wave of attention hit them. Whispers trailed their path—some curious, others speculative—but Ava held her head high, drawing strength from the warmth of Adrian's hand resting lightly at the small of her back.

We're just playing a role, she reminded herself. This is part of the contract. Yet, the way his touch lingered made the lines blur again.

"Adrian!" A voice called out from the crowd. A tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and sharp eyes approached, his presence commanding. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Adrian's expression shifted subtly, a mask of polite indifference. "Charles."

Ava recognized the name—Charles Whitmore. One of the most influential figures in the industry and a known rival of Adrian's company.

"And this must be…" Charles glanced at her, curiosity evident.

"Ava," Adrian introduced smoothly, "my wife."

The word sent a jolt through her, even though it was all part of the act. Charles's brows lifted. "I see. Quite the surprise. Weren't you the one who said you had no time for personal entanglements?"

Adrian's jaw tightened, but he smiled coolly. "Plans change."

As Charles wandered off after a few pleasantries, Ava exhaled. "That was... intense."

"Welcome to my world," Adrian muttered.

Later, while Adrian conversed with a group of executives, Ava found herself momentarily alone near the refreshment table. She reached for a glass of champagne just as someone else did, their fingers brushing.

"Sorry—" she started, glancing up.

Her words caught in her throat. The man before her was striking, with tousled dark hair and a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"You must be Ava," he said, voice smooth.

She frowned. "And you are...?"

"Ethan Blake," he extended a hand. "Old acquaintance of Adrian's."

Something about the way he said it set off alarm bells in her head. Before she could respond, Adrian appeared at her side, his demeanor shifting instantly.

"Ethan," Adrian's tone was colder now, eyes narrowed. "Didn't expect you to crawl out of whatever rock you've been hiding under."

Ethan chuckled. "Always charming, Sinclair." His gaze flicked to Ava. "You've got yourself in deep, haven't you?"

Ava's brow furrowed. What does he mean by that?

"Walk away, Ethan," Adrian said, voice low but edged with warning.

With a mock bow, Ethan retreated into the crowd, leaving a trail of tension behind.

Ava turned to Adrian. "What was that about?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," he said curtly.

"That guy looked like he wanted to pick a fight," she pressed.

"Stay away from him," Adrian's gaze darkened. "He's trouble."

As the evening wore on, they found themselves on the balcony overlooking the city skyline. The cool breeze swept over them, offering a brief reprieve from the crowd inside.

Ava leaned against the railing. "So... you have enemies."

"Everyone in my position does."

"And Ethan?"

"Complicated," he muttered. "Not something you need to get involved in."

Her lips twisted into a wry smile. "Considering we're married, I'd say I'm already involved."

He glanced at her, something flickering in his eyes—regret? Frustration? Before she could decipher it, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, his expression hardening.

"Work?" she asked.

"Yeah," he pocketed it without answering. "Let's get out of here."

They left the gala with the city lights stretching before them, tension crackling in the air. Ava glanced sideways at him as they walked to the car. He's holding back. Secrets lurked beneath his composed exterior, and for reasons she couldn't explain, she wanted to uncover them—not just because of the contract, but because... he mattered.

And that realization scared her more than any threat ever could.