"I thought I sold only my freedom, turns out he wants my identity too."
—Ava Carter
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Ava's Point of View
My mouth fell open before I could stop it. My mind finally registered who was standing before me, barking orders like he owned the air I breathed. My fists curled tight as I stepped closer, keeping the house behind me.
Standing only a foot away under his cold gaze, I refused to waver.
"You have no right to bark orders at me," I spat.
He didn't flinch. Maybe a flicker of surprise crossed his face, but it was gone before it could soothe my anger.
"I am not a slave. I am your business partner. You need this just as badly as I need the money. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here."
Something shifted in his expression, his eyes darkened, then curved into a smug smile.
"Are you sure about that? Don't be mistaken, Miss Carter. I can make do without you. But can you?" His voice dropped, sharp, menacing.
He strode to the driver's side of the car. "If you have no issue refunding the hospital bills I've already paid, then walk back into your house. I won't stop you. But if you can't…" His gaze locked on mine, steady, merciless. "Get in the car. The choice is yours."
My throat tightened. Rage burned inside me, but beneath it lay something worse: helplessness. He was right, and he knew it. Choice didn't feel like choice anymore, it felt like a vague word now, blurred in between helplessness and responsibility. It felt like chains.
By the time he slid behind the wheel, smirk tugging at his lips, I had already lost. Quietly, I opened the passenger door and sat down. The engine roared to life, and the sound felt like my surrender.
The ride blurred into silence, his presence suffocating, my thoughts heavier than the air itself. When the car stopped, he stepped out without a word. Workers rushed to greet him with bowed heads and polished smiles, like he was royalty. He didn't spare me a glance.
I glared at his back before trailing after him, staying as far away as possible.
And then I saw it.
The place was breathtaking; marble floors, chandeliers, walls that glittered with quiet wealth. If Dylan Reed was royalty, this was his palace.
I was still lost in the sight when he stopped abruptly, and I collided with his shoulder. His gaze turned on me, sharp and assessing.
"Give her a complete makeover. One that screams Mrs. Reed."
The words hit harder than his bark earlier. Gasps spread through the room.
"Excuse you?" I snapped, my voice rising before I could stop it.
His head tilted, eyes daring me to push further. "I shouldn't have to repeat myself."
The workers scrambled instantly, but I moved faster. "Wait!" I half-yelled, catching his hand and pulling him outside into the sun.
He stared at me like I was insane. "Miss Carter," he began, voice calm but chilling, "what in the world do you think you're doing?"
I didn't know. I couldn't openly defy him here, not when the upper hand was his. But letting him strip me of my identity without warning? That was too much. My words tumbled out in a rush.
"Yes, I know what you're going to say. I signed a contract. I can't refund your money. I can't back out now. But I need time."
He ran a hand through his hair, patience thinning. "I don't have time, Miss Carter."
"I understand, but at least not today," I burst out, my voice trembling as my chest heaved. "I haven't even come to terms with what I just did. I didn't even read the damn contract, because all I could think about was saving my mom. I was terrified, desperate, and I signed away my life without thinking and now I don't even know what this marriage really demands of me. My head is a storm I can't quiet, my sisters keep asking questions I can't answer, and my mom. God, my mom, she'll look at me with those eyes and ask how I paid for her life, and I'll have nothing to say. I can't face them like this. I can't face myself like this. Everything feels like it's closing in, and too fast, too heavy. I can't even breathe. All I'm asking is just today. One day to gather myself, to prepare my sisters, to look my mom in the eyes without breaking. Just… one day before I lose what little of me I still recognize."
My chest tightened as emotions I thought I had under control came spilling out. I hated that he was hearing all of it, hated that I sounded so vulnerable.
He stood there, silent, unreadable. The weight of his gaze made me certain he'd drag me back inside and have them strip me bare until I was molded into his image.
Instead, he pulled out his phone. "Cancel my appointment. I'll inform you tomorrow of the new time." He hung up immediately, not waiting for an answer.
"Fine," he said at last, voice cool as ever. "You have today. Use it well."
He walked to the car, pulled out a small gift bag from the back seat, and thrust it toward me. "Hop in. I'll send you home."
Too drained to argue, I obeyed.
At home, I slipped straight into my room, careful not to alert Ana or Avie. My body felt like stone, my mind heavier still. Hours passed before I finally reached for the bag.
Inside was a brand-new phone, the latest model. Only one contact was saved.
'Mr. Reed.'
I was about to toss it aside when a message lit up the screen.
'You can't tell anyone about the contract. Not even family. Breach it, and you'll face legal charges.'
Another pinged.
'Answer when I call.'
Another.
'Meet me at Dia's Mansion tomorrow, 10 a.m. sharp.'
And finally:
'Don't be late.'
The address blinked up at me from the screen.
I stared, my stomach sinking like lead.
What the hell had I signed myself into?
And what the hell was Dia's Mansion?