The music hit her ears even before she entered. The soft sounds of the violins and piano welcomed her. Ava barely had time to admire the grandeur of the event center before the vultures swooped in.
The Blackwood name, it seemed, had a magnetic pull to it. As soon as she and Damian stepped through the arched golden doors of the room, a flood of people approached like a tide, eager to greet him, shake his hand, and scrutinize her with polished smiles that all seemed fake and judgy. It was dizzying. The lights, the glittering chandeliers, the clinking glasses, and the artificial charm of it all.
Damian introduced her politely, his voice smooth, his arm resting lightly against the small of her back as if to tether her. She felt the pressing need to brush his hands off but instead she smiled tightly "My wife, Ava."
Each time he said it, Ava felt the words strike her like a pebble to glass. The smile she offered in return was well practiced, a product of years dealing with high profile clients, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
After several introductions to people whose names she couldn't be bothered to remember, Ava felt gratitude when Damian leaned closer and murmured. "You're free to explore. I need to speak with a few associates."
She nodded, grateful to escape the web of tight smiles, pretense and overdone perfume. With his hand gone, the space at her back felt cold.
As Ava wandered the room, she couldn't help noticing how people watched her, some openly curious, others skeptical but no one approached. Ava could feel their cautiousness. The Blackwood name cloaked her like a shadow. She was no longer Ava Sinclair, the efficient, self assured matchmaker. She was Mrs. Blackwood now. The woman who married the reclusive billionaire.
She picked up a glass of wine from a passing tray and made her way toward a quiet corner beneath an ornately framed painting. The wine was dry, expensive, and tasted vaguely of ash. After all these years of working with elites, she didn't quite understand their taste.
"Mrs. Blackwood," came a silky voice behind her.
The scent hit her first, a sharp, feminine cologne, laced with roses and firewood. Ava turned slowly. Her gaze collided with a woman who looked like she had just stepped out of a designer ad. She was tall, a few inches taller than Ava. Her red dress clinged to her curves as it complimented her skin that it made Ava immediately conscious of her own simple black gown. Her skin glowed like polished bronze, and as she smiled, two deep dimples appeared on her cheek.
"I've been hoping to see the woman Damian would end up with," the woman said. "And I must say… I'm disappointed."
Ava blinked, her spine straightening. She noticed the way the lady used Damien's first name as if they were best of friends. "Excuse me?"
The woman extended a hand. "Oh, my manners, I'm Selene Marquette."
The name didn't ring any bells, but the smug tilt of her lips made her intent loud and clear.
Ava returned the handshake, her smile strained. "Ava."
Selene laughed softly. "Oh, darling, we all know who you are. Forgive my manners, Damian and I used to have a thing."
Ava smirked, now understanding the reason for the woman's words. "Still, you.. " She started, but Selene waved her fingers as if brushing dust from the air.
"I expected he'd leave me for someone better. But you're just… quite plain. I'm surprised" Selene said, the smile still on her lips.
The words weren't sharp, but the way Selene looked her over, her eyes gleaming with contempt and disdain made them cut deeper than they should have.
Ava took another sip of wine as she watched. "You're gorgeous, no doubt. But this plain woman got the man you wanted."
For a moment, Selene's smile cracked.
She recovered quickly. "You can't handle Damian. I know him. I know his darkness, his desires." She leaned in, the air around her too warm. "You might wear his ring, but he doesn't see you."
She reached out a perfectly manicured finger, intending to poke Ava in the chest, but Ava caught her wrist.
"You don't know me," Ava said calmly. "And I don't care what you and Damian had. He chose me and he's my husband now. You didn't make the cut. There is nothing I enjoy more than putting people in their place so you shouldn't touch me, for your own sanity."
Selene's eyes flared, but before she could respond, Damian's voice rang across the room.
"Ava."
Both women turned to the direction of the voice. Damian was striding toward them, his eyes sharp as flint.
"Damian," Selene purred, stepping forward with arms outstretched but he stepped aside and her arms caught empty air.
Damian didn't so much as glance at her as he reached for Ava's hand, catching her by surprise. "We're leaving."
Still stunned, Ava let him lead her through the crowd as whispers followed them like smoke.
Immediately they were inside the car, Ava pulled her hand away from his. The silence hung heavy.
Damien broke it. "Was a nuisance?" He asked.
"I don't care who she is to you. But I won't be belittled by anyone." Ava said, slightly annoyed.
Damian glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "She's no one."
"I didn't ask," Ava said coolly.
Damien hummed softly in response. "I thought you should know," he said after a beat. "As my wife."
That word again.
It dropped like a weight into her stomach and made her insides turn. Wife. The contract echoed behind the word, a reminder that this bond was more chain than choice.
"How do you intend to convince people that we're married if you can stand something as small as me holding your hands." Damien said as he took off his coat. He rolled off his sleeves to reveal his veiny arms.
Ava turned away, watching the city lights blur past the window. "You caught me by surprise, at least warn me next time."
"You freeze each time I called you my wife, do I have to warn you before calling you that too?" He asked.
Ava turned from the window to look straight at her front. "I'll step up my game."
Damien hummed in response. "You should be able to do that at least because there might come a time where I might have to kiss you."
Ava turned to him and saw that smile on his lips, he was teasing her again. "No way in hell will I ever kiss you."
"I thought you were going to step up your game, isn't that included?" He asked, teasing her again.
"Do not dream of it."
~~~~
Earlier That Day
The morning before the event, Ava found a black card slipped under her breakfast tray, along with a handwritten note from Damian.
"You'll need something suitable for the event tonight. Emily will accompany you."
That was it. No greeting, no signature. Just a command in elegant ink. She couldn't believe he had given her a black card.
Ava rolled her eyes but pocketed the card. If she was going to be paraded like a trophy, she might as well look the part.
Emily had already prepared a driver. As they walked through the boutique lined district, Ava quickly realized the card had no spending limit. The salespeople were practically tripping over themselves, offering her everything from couture gowns to imported heels.
"Are you sure he's okay with this much?" Ava asked as she tried on a deep cut emerald gown.
Emily didn't flinch. "Mr. Blackwood never asks questions when it comes to appearance. He wants people to see you and never forget you."
Ava raised a brow at her reflection. The rich emerald color brought out the fire in her hazel eyes, and with her hair pinned up and a touch of ruby lipstick, she looked nothing like the Ava who lived off espresso shots and deadlines.
She looked like someone else, someone dangerous. Someone who belonged beside Damian Blackwood. That wasn't someone she wanted to be.