Ava stood in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at herself like she was a stranger.
A silk robe, monogrammed with "Knight," clung to her like it belonged to someone else. Her eyes were still rimmed with smudged eyeliner. Her hair was an elegant mess. But it wasn't the robe or the reflection that made her heart thunder—it was the enormous ring glinting on her finger.
Her hand trembled. It didn't even feel like hers anymore.
What have I done?
She splashed water on her face, desperate to cool the panic rising in her chest. The memories were patchy at best. A few shots of tequila. A dare. Someone laughing about getting married in Vegas. A pair of dark gray eyes locking with hers across a velvet-lit bar. The next thing she remembered clearly was waking up in Ares Knight's bed with a diamond that could pay off her mother's hospital bills ten times over.
Her phone buzzed violently.
Unknown Number: You've got 21 hours. Press conference at noon. Be ready.
—A.K.
Ava swallowed hard. She didn't have 21 hours. She had one impossible choice.
Run—and have her name dragged through every tabloid as the woman who married and betrayed Ares Knight.
Or…
Stay—and become the unwilling wife of a ruthless billionaire.
But that second option came with something she hadn't had in a long time: power. And something even more precious… security.
Her thoughts spiraled toward her younger sister, Lily, still recovering from heart surgery. The bills had piled up like a tidal wave. She'd begged every temp agency in Manhattan for work. None came through. But now—
Now she was Mrs. Knight.
Whether by fate, accident, or tequila, the reality was written in ink and sealed in headlines.
She sat down on the edge of the velvet chaise lounge, burying her face in her hands. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"
And somewhere far away, the headlines were already circulating like wildfire.
> BREAKING: Billionaire Ares Knight Ties the Knot in Secret Vegas Wedding
— Who is Ava Reid, and why have we never heard of her?
> Elena Curz Reacts to Ares Knight's Shocking Marriage
— "I don't know who she is, but she won't last a week."
Meanwhile…
In a penthouse that smelled like roses and expensive fury, Elena Curz hurled a champagne bottle across the room.
"She's no one!" Elena shrieked. "A nobody! A glorified waitress with no pedigree!"
Her assistant, Mason, ducked and flinched as the bottle shattered against the wall. "Ms. Curz, maybe we should wait and see—"
"I waited four years for Ares to stop playing hard-to-get," Elena snapped. "And he throws everything away on her? Some little girl with zero influence?"
Mason dared to speak. "Technically, they're married now. If she holds on—she'll inherit everything."
Elena's eyes narrowed with a venomous glint. "Then I'll just have to make sure she doesn't hold on."
---
Back at Knight Tower
Ava had been given a private suite within the sprawling Knight estate, a place so cold and luxurious it made five-star hotels feel like motels. She hadn't seen Ares since the morning, but his presence lingered in every corner, like the scent of expensive cologne and power.
A knock came at the door.
It wasn't Ares.
It was Harriet, his personal assistant. Late 40s, sharp heels, sharper tongue.
"Good morning, Mrs. Knight," Harriet said with a neutral tone. "Mr. Knight asked me to deliver this."
She handed Ava a garment bag. Ava opened it slowly and gasped. Inside was a floor-length white dress—not a wedding dress, but something close. Sleek, stunning, and designed to turn heads.
"What's this for?"
"The press conference," Harriet said. "He wants you to look like the woman who tamed a wolf."
"I didn't tame anything," Ava muttered.
Harriet allowed a faint smile. "Then maybe you're the bait. Either way, play your role. If you can't do that, he'll find someone who can."
Ava closed the door, fingers tightening on the dress as she whispered to herself, "What the hell are you doing, Ava?"
But even as her mind screamed in protest, something deep inside her whispered: You've never had this much control. Not once. Not until now.
---
Knight Industries – Noon
The press room was filled with chaos. Paparazzi elbowed each other for the best shot. Flashbulbs exploded like fireworks. Everyone wanted a glimpse of the woman who had stolen the country's most elusive bachelor.
Ares stood at the podium, flawless in a black custom Tom Ford suit, looking like he'd descended straight from a billionaire fantasy.
A hush fell over the room.
And then she walked in.
Ava.
Wearing the white dress. Shoulders back. Chin lifted.
Cameras exploded.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
She moved like a woman possessed—terrified, but refusing to flinch. When she reached Ares, he extended a hand. She placed hers in his like it was always meant to be there.
Someone shouted, "Ares, when did you meet Ava?"
Ares answered smoothly. "Three months ago. I saw her. I knew."
"But she's not from your circle!"
"No," Ares said, glancing down at her with something unreadable in his eyes. "She's better."
Another voice screamed from the back, "Is it love?!"
Ares didn't hesitate. "She's my wife. That's all that matters."
Ava blinked. In that moment, she wasn't sure if he was lying… or telling the deepest truth of his life.
He leaned close and whispered so only she could hear, "You played your part well, Mrs. Knight."
Ava looked up at him and whispered back, "I haven't even started yet."
The crowd roared with questions, flashes, and frenzy.
But all Ava felt was the invisible line being drawn.
Between her and the past.
Between her and her new role.
Between her and Ares Knight—the man who could either destroy her… or become her destiny.