Ava's POV

The sun didn't ease in that morning. It slashed through the curtains like a blade straight across my face. I winced before my eyes even opened. My head throbbed in rhythm with my pulse.

I tried to swallow but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. The clock on the nightstand glowed in red: 11:47 a.m.

Late in the morning.

I pushed up on one elbow. The movement sent a wave of nausea rolling through me. The room tilted, came back to normal. The pillows and the silk sheets clung to my thighs, smelling of sweat and sex.

One heel still dangled from my left foot. The other one lay across the room, kicked off near the dresser..

I then looked down in my body only to notice the bite marks. Not gentle or playful but dark, deliberate bruises scattered across my collarbone, my chest, and the tops of my boobs. Red rings circled my wrists and my skin, broken in places from the silk ties.

"Oh fuck. The psycho at the club."

It came in flashes. Red lights. His hand fisted in my hair. That low, ruthless voice. Me screaming and begging for more.

No.

I bolted for the bathroom, knees slamming into the tile as I dropped in front of the sink.

Mascara streaked down my cheeks in thick black rivers. Lips swollen, red, bitten. My neck-Holy crap-was covered in purple hickeys, blooming like bruises from a fight that I'd lost on purpose.

Leon.

His face flashed behind my eyes. The altar, the white dress and the way he'd smiled at me like I was his salvation.

"Clean slate, Ava. No more games. No more nights like before. Just us. You and me. Forever."

He held my fingers tight that day. His voice was soft.

I promised.

We both did.

And now?

Not even a year in and I'd broken it. What I hated the most is that I enjoyed every bit of it.

I slid down the cabinet. My back hit the wood with a soft thud. I pulled my knees to my chest. I didn't fucking care.

Tears came then. They rolled down my cheeks and dripped onto my thighs.

What have I done?

The door creaked open behind me.

Mrs. Lin stood in the doorway. Her eyes went wide-then narrowed as she tried to read the room: the dress, the marks, the lone shoe on the floor, and me curled up like a broken doll.

"Oh! Crap, Ava. What did you do?"

I couldn't look at her. My voice cracked when I spoke. "I don't know. I was... just a bit horny. It was supposed to be just a fun, night party. I didn't mean for it to-"

She stepped inside and closed the door behind her with a soft click. Her thumb brushed one of the bruises on my neck-gentle, but I flinched anyway.

"Who's the guy?"

I shook my head. "Don't know his name. I didn't ask."

Her eyes searched mine. "You remember his face, don't you?"

I closed my eyes. Tried to pull it up.

Dark hair. Messy. Tattoos crawling up his arms, and across his chest. That dragon-coiled tattoo that was alive under the red light. His body-hard, and unforgiving.

But his face?

Blank.

"His voice," I whispered. "Like gravel. Very ruthless. Like he owned the whole damn room. That's all I've got."

Mrs. Lin stood up with a heavy sigh. The kind that came from years of cleaning up my messes. "Stay out of clubs for now. For a long while. You hear me?"

She dug into her apron pocket and tossed a small tube onto the counter. Arnica gel. "Cover those up. You've got lunch meeting to attend."

Lunch.

My brain clicked into gear like an engine trying to turn over in the cold.

"The HK heir. Leon's best friend."

She nodded. "The one who missed the wedding. You're going to meet him at HK premises. Noon sharp. You have to start getting ready. You are already late as it is."

I glanced at the clock on the wall: 12:22 p.m.

"Shit."

Mrs. Lin turned to leave. I grabbed her wrist-my fingers trembling around her thin bones. "Please. Don't tell Leon. I don't want to break his heart. I can't-" My voice cracked up again. "Just keep it between us? Please?"

A short, sharp laugh escaped her like she'd heard this before. "Forget that mess, girl. Just get ready. You look like hell warmed over."

The door clicked shut behind her.

I dragged myself into the shower. I scrubbed hard until my skin turned pink and raw. The hickeys faded a little but not enough.

The mirror had fogged completely. I wiped a circle clear with my palm.

Still me.

But not.

I applied foundation, making sure that it was as thick as armor and concealer under my eyes to hide the exhaustion and the redness. Hair in loose waves that fell over my neck, hiding what it could. A black backless gown and four-inch heels, the kind that made men stare and women whisper.

I looked in the full-length mirror. I looked dangerous and polished as a billionaire wife, not like the girl who'd begged on silk sheets last night.

But inside? I was still shaking.

The elevator ride up to the lobby at HK felt endless. I clutched my bag like a lifeline. "Why do I even have to meet this guy anyways?" I muttered to myself as I stepped out of the elevator.

The lobby glittered under crystal chandeliers. The lounge area had plush velvet sofas arranged in a half-circle, all gold accents and low lighting.

I spotted him from behind. Broad shoulders filling out a dark suit. One leg crossed over the other and phone pressed to his ear.

My steps faltered the moment I realized that the voice was similar to the one that tortured me last night.

He laughed into the phone. I clearly recognized that deep rumble. My knees nearly gave out.

No.

I forced myself forward. One foot in front of the other. The click of my heels echoed in the vast space.

"Hi. I'm Ava."

He ended the call and lifted his head.

My bag slipped from my fingers the moment our eyes locked.

"What the-"

Ava's POV

My handbag hit the marble floor with a dull, expensive thud. Everything inside me stopped for a moment. My heartbeat, breath, thoughts. They were all frozen.

The devil himself turned his head and the world tilted.

He was damn handsome in the way a blade is beautiful: sharp, clean, and lethal. High cheekbones, a jaw that looked like it was carved from stone, eyes the color of midnight right before a storm. The top two buttons of his white shirt were open, revealing the edge of that same dragon tattoo that had writhed over his chest last night while he ruined me.

But right now he looked... calm and civilized. A perfect CEO sipping coffee in broad daylight except I knew what those hands could do. I knew how that mouth tasted when it wasn't smiling politely. I knew the exact sound he made when he came inside me.

My knees almost gave out at that spot.

He ended the call, slipped the phone into his pocket, and stood up, slow and deliberate. Every inch of him was radiating control. The closer he got, the more the air thickened with cedar, smoke, and something darker that made my stomach flip the same way it had when he'd pinned my wrists above my head in the club.

He bent, picked up my bag like it weighed nothing, and stepped closer to me. Damn!! It was too close.

His chest brushed the front of my dress. Heat rolled off him. I caught the faint scent of last night still clinging to his skin: sex and whiskey and me.

His lips brushed my ear. "You look like you've seen a ghost, princess."

That voice. I could taste it. Gravel and smoke and pure sin. My pulse exploded in my throat.

He slid the strap of my bag up my arm, his fingers deliberately were slow, knuckles brushing the inside of my forearm. Every nerve ending in my body lit up like he'd flipped a switch. I sucked in a breath that sounded too loud in the quiet lounge.

He stepped back, gestured to the velvet sofa. "Please. Have a sit."

I couldn't move. It seemed my legs had forgotten how.

He sat first, with one ankle crossed over the opposite knee, arm stretched along the back of the sofa like a king waiting for tribute. Those dark eyes never left mine.

"Hi," he said in a smooth and gentle voice. "I'm Julian... Julian Hong-Knight, the CEO of HK Group. Pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasure." The word rolled off his tongue the same way he'd growled it last night when he'd had me bent over, screaming and crying in pleasure and raw intensity.

My mouth opened but my words were no where to be found. Nothing came out except a shaky, "Do you... do you recognize me?"

He tilted his head, lifting a brow. "What?"

"Last night," I whispered. The words scraped out raw from my mouth. "Where were you last night?"

His gaze sharpened. Something I couldn't recognize flickered behind those eyes. He set his coffee down, stood up, and closed the distance again.

"Why don't we talk somewhere else?" he said quietly. "How about my office? You don't seem to be at ease."

Wow!! What a gentleman. He seemed to noticed my atmosphere but I don't know if he noticed that he is the cause.

He didn't even wait for me to agree. He just turned and walked away, expecting me to follow.

And God so help me, I did.

My heels clicked too fast across the marble as I chased the broad line of his back. People glanced up: employees, security, a woman with a clipboard who looked like she wanted to ask if I needed help. I obviously looked insane. That's for sure: My face was pale, lipstick half gone, and eyes wide like I'd seen the devil.

I had.

The private elevator doors slid open the second he approached it. He stepped inside, held the door with one hand, and looked back at me.

"Coming?"

I stepped in. The doors closed. For a moment, there was silence. Just the soft hum of the lift and the heat pouring off his body. He didn't look at me, just stared straight ahead, jaw tight, and one hand buried inside his pocket. I could feel his pulse from here. It was calm, steady, and controlled.

Mine was a hummingbird trapped under my ribs.

Twenty-third floor, the doors opened directly into his office. Dark wood, leather, the scent of whiskey filled the air. He walked to the bar, poured himself a glass and took a slow sip without offering me one. I wouldn't even be able to drink if he did offer me.

I stood in the middle of the room, clutching my bag like a shield.

He turned, leaned back against the window, sunlight cutting across his face and making the dragon tattoo peek above his collar again.

"Ask your question," he said simply.

"Do you know who I am? Have we meet before?" My voice cracked.

He took another sip. "Should I?"

"You-" I swallowed hard. "You.... I..." I started stuttering out of nowhere.

The glass paused halfway to his lips. Then he smiled in the most dangerous way ever.

He set the glass down, pushed off the window, and walked toward me. I started sensing something deadly with each step. He finally stopped as soon as the tips of his shoes touched mine and I had to crane my neck to hold his stare.

"You were saying?" He asked, his voice low and lethal. I could literally feel his breath on my face.

"You're.... Last night, you are the- "

"Devil who ruined you last night." He whispered gently, his lips brushing my ear and he lowered his head to meet my face to say the words that I couldn't say.

"Holy.... shit!" It was then I realized that I'd just walked into a trap, one that I won't be getting out from anytime soon.

Ava's POV

He laughed.

I wasn't some fake little laugh, but the the cruel kind that I wasn't ready for.

Julian just threw his head back and let it the laughter out, deep. The sound of his vicious laugh hit me in the chest, wrapped around my throat, and squeezed until I forgot how to breathe.

My legs gave out. I grabbed the arm of the leather chair just to stay on my feet. My nails dug in so hard that I felt the stitches pop under my fingers.

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning, and took another slow sip of whiskey. The sunlight caught the glass and threw little broken pieces of gold across his sharp cheekbones.

"My love," he said, voice warm and lazy, like we were old friends sharing a joke, "I knew the second you walked into that club."

My heart stopped. It actually stopped the moment. Why would he refer me as his love? I just met him. My heart started pounding so loud that I could hear it in my ears.

All the blood left my face. The room tilted sideways. I opened my mouth... closed it... opened it again. The only thing that came out was nothing but a cracked whisper. "You... you knew?"

He lifted the glass toward me like he was toasting me, eyes radiating brutality. "Of course I knew. Ava Vance. Leon's perfect little doll with the perfect ring and... you know- " He paused, glaring at my body. "Those sad, hungry eyes. You think I wouldn't know my best buddy's wife?"

My stomach flipped so hard I almost threw up right there.

Everything from last night slammed back into me. I knew something was off but I didn't pay attention that night. I couldn't.

Julian set the glass down. The soft clink sounded like a gun going off. He leaned back against his desk, arms folded, and jacket pulling tight over those shoulders that had held me against a wall only hours ago.

"You really thought I wouldn't recognize Leon's wife when she walked straight up to me in those killer heels and that tiny dress?" His tongue touched his lip, slow. "Come on, sweetheart. I saw those wedding photos. You looked insane in white. Almost as good as you looked in nothing."

Heat rushed to my face, and shame burning so hot I couldn't tell if I wanted to cry or scream. My hands shook at my sides.

"Why?" It ripped out of me, rough and broken. "Why the hell did you touch me if you knew?"

He shrugged like it was nothing. "You came to me, remember? Pushed that perfect body against mine, looked up with those big needy eyes, and asked, real sweet to be wrecked." His smile got sharper. "I'm not the guy who says no to a girl who's begging. Especially when she's my best friend's wife."

He was still smiling, loving every second of watching me fall apart.

I took a shaky step back. My heel caught the rug. I almost went down hard but caught myself on a chair, nails scratching the leather.

"I'm leaving," I said, voice cracking all over the place.

I turned, fingers fumbling for the door handle.

His voice followed me, smooth as silk, poisonous as hell.

"Page Six would eat this up," he said, casual, like he was reading the weather. "'Billionaire heiress Ava Vance caught in secret sex club.' Ohh! I can see it now. Those pretty bruises I left on your neck, the ones you tried to cover with makeup this morning. So damn artistic."

My hand froze on the handle. Ice poured through my veins.

I turned around slow.

He hadn't moved. Still leaning there, glass dangling from his fingers, and sunlight making him look like the devil on vacation.

"What do you want?" My voice came out tiny and broken.

He pushed off the desk and walked toward me, slow, every step loud in the quiet room. The air got thick with cedar, smoke, and the smell of last night still on his skin as it is on mine. My back hit the door. Nowhere else left to run.

He stopped so close that I could feel his heat, radiating off his body. I had to tilt my head back to look at him. His eyes were pure black, shining with winning.

"I'm giving you a choice," he said, low and dangerous. "Three courses. You show up to every single one to complete these courses. No excuses."

I blinked, panic and confusion crashing together in my head. "What the hell does that even mean? What the hell are you saying?"

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear, breath hot and slow. Goosebumps ran down my arms like fire.

"You're gonna pay for cheating, Ava," he whispered. "You're gonna be my personal little toy until I say we're done."

The words exploded in my head.

I jerked back, slammed against the door. "You're crazy."

He straightened, his smile getting wider. "Maybe. But you're the one who crawled into my bed. Begged me to choke you, and make you scream. Oh, and I have it all on video. Nice and clear. The sound is just perfect."

My stomach turned. I slapped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn't be sick.

"Leon will definitely kill you," I hissed through my fingers.

Julian didn't even blink. "Leon will kill you first, princess. You cheated on him. I'm just the guy you picked to do it with." He tilted his head, showing fake sympathy. "How do you think he'll feel watching his wife come so hard she cries? Hearing you beg a stranger to ruin you?"

I couldn't breathe. The walls closed in on me.

He stepped closer, caging me with one arm beside my head. His smell filled my lungs, cedar, whiskey, sex, and me.

"You say one word," he murmured, voice soft but hard as steel, "and I will be the end of you. I'll send everything. Photos. Videos. Audio. You sounded so pretty while begging, Ava. 'Please, harder. Don't stop.' Ring any bells?"

Tears burned. I blinked fast, but they fell anyway, hot down my cheeks.

"Or," he went on, thumb brushing my lip, smearing my lipstick, "you be a good girl. Keep quiet. Open those legs when I say. Your marriage stays safe. Your perfect life stays perfect. Leon never knows. It's a win-win."

I stared at him. Tears kept coming.

He smiled like the war was already over.

I grabbed my bag off the floor, hands shaking so bad I almost dropped it again.

"Go to hell!!" I spat, voice raw and ugly.

I yanked the door open and stumbled into the hallway. The air out here felt cold and thin. My heels echoed too loud on the marble as I ran for the elevator.

His voice floated after me, lazy and amused.

"See you tomorrow, Mrs. Vance."

The doors closed on my reflection: pale, shaking, mascara running, and lipstick wrecked.

And then it hit me, hard, like a wave crashing over my head.

If I'd just said yes when Bella who begged me to tag along to Paris with her...

If I'd stayed home like a good wife...

If I'd never walked into that damn club...

I pressed my fist to my mouth and bit down until I tasted blood.

God!!

If I'd just gone to Paris...

None of this would've happened.