The first thing Ava Reid felt was the pounding ache in her head. The second was the undeniable sensation of a silk sheet wrapped around her bare body.
She wasn't in her apartment.
She wasn't even in her own clothes.
Ava sat up with a jolt, heart racing, eyes darting across the enormous bedroom she didn't recognize. The curtains were drawn halfway, allowing sunlight to spill through tall windows that looked like they belonged in a royal palace. A fireplace, untouched but pristine. A glittering chandelier. And—
Oh no.
A man.
Not just any man. The man.
Half-covered in a white sheet, hair tousled, jaw like it had been carved by angels and forged by devils.
Ares Knight.
CEO of Knight Industries.
Untouchable. Relentless. The kind of man people whispered about in boardrooms and feared in courtrooms.
And she was in his bed.
Her fingers trembled as she lifted her left hand—and froze.
A diamond. Not just a ring. An entire planet sitting on her finger.
"No, no, no, no…" Ava whispered, shaking her head.
The man beside her stirred, groaned, and turned. His eyes, a dark stormy grey, blinked slowly before narrowing in on her face.
"You're awake," he said, his voice rough, deep, like expensive whiskey. "Finally."
Ava clutched the sheets closer to her chest, suddenly very aware of her vulnerability. "Where am I? What happened? What—what did we do last night?"
Ares sat up, unfazed by her panic. "We got married."
The words slapped her harder than any hangover could.
Ava blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said," he repeated, reaching casually for a glass of water on the nightstand, "we got married."
Her jaw dropped. "Are you insane?! I don't even remember saying yes!"
He raised a brow. "You did. In front of a very impatient Las Vegas officiant. With two witnesses. Don't worry, the papers were signed. It's legal."
"Las Vegas? I—I was in New York two days ago!"
He stood, the sheet falling slightly to reveal a sculpted torso that looked like it belonged on a Greek statue. He stretched with lazy ease and walked toward the wardrobe, opening the massive wooden doors to reveal rows of perfectly arranged suits.
"What is this?" Ava demanded, trying to keep her voice steady. "Why would I marry you?"
Ares didn't turn to face her. "Because I needed a wife. Fast."
Ava gaped. "That's your explanation?"
He looked over his shoulder, expression unreadable. "My father's will states I don't inherit Knight Industries unless I'm married before my thirtieth birthday. Which happens to be next week."
"And I was just… conveniently available?"
"Yes."
She stared at him in disbelief. "You're unbelievable."
"I'm also worth over eighty billion dollars," he said with a shrug. "People overlook worse things for a lot less."
"You bought a wife."
"You said yes."
"I was drunk!"
He finally turned, walking toward her with the calm, cool confidence of a man used to bending the world to his will. "If you want to annul it, you can. But you'll be walking away from protection. From luxury. From everything."
Ava stood up, ignoring the way her knees wobbled. "I don't want your money."
"Good," he said. "Because it's not a bribe. It's a transaction."
"That's disgusting."
"Call it what you want," he said coolly. "But as of now, you're Ava Knight. And the press already knows."
Her heart stopped. "The what?"
"There was a leak," he said, checking his phone. "Photos of us at the chapel. The media is already feasting. My team is scheduling a press conference."
Ava's eyes widened. "No! I—I didn't sign up for this!"
Ares met her gaze squarely. "Yes. You did. With your signature. Your thumbprint. And your lips."
She turned away, her heart in chaos.
Everything was unraveling. Two days ago, she was unemployed, broke, and couch-surfing while she tried to figure her life out. Now she was married to the most feared man in the country.
She took a shaky breath. "So… what? You want us to stay married? Just like that?"
"Yes. Publicly," Ares said. "Privately, you can do whatever you want. This is a contract. Nothing more."
She turned sharply. "Then why me? Why not your ex? Why not Elena Curz?"
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—dark, dangerous. "Because she wants the title, not the man. And I don't give people what they expect."
Ava's head spun.
"I need time to think," she whispered.
Ares stepped closer. "You have until the press conference. Tomorrow. Noon. If you show up, we're all in. If not, my legal team will file for annulment quietly. But either way—your life just changed."
He left her there, barefoot in a stranger's palace, wearing a diamond that felt like a shackle.
And somewhere far from that luxurious room, Elena Curz was watching the headlines with her perfectly manicured fingers digging into a wine glass.
The war had just begun.