The night didn't end when the car stopped in front of Damian's mansion.
It only shifted from one kind of performance to another.
Ava walked ahead of him into the house, her pulse still erratic from the dinner, her smile that had been polished and poisonous finally slipping off her face. The echo of laughter from that table still rang in her ears, the polite interest, the hidden judgment, the curiosity about the mysterious woman who had somehow become Damian Cross's fiancée.
She'd lied for him. Perfectly. Effortlessly. She'd smiled when she wanted to scream, held his hand when she wanted to break free. And through it all, he'd sat beside her, calm and composed, watching her like he was studying something far more intricate than a simple performance.
Now, the quiet of the house felt too big, too sharp.
"Go upstairs," Damian said as he shrugged out of his coat. "You've done enough for tonight."
Ava turned to face him. "Is that your version of 'thank you'?"
He paused, one brow lifting. "Do you need gratitude for doing what you agreed to do?"
Her jaw tightened. "No. Just wondering if you even know what it looks like."
He almost smiled. Almost. "Careful, Ava. You're still standing in my house."
She folded her arms. "I'm aware."
For a heartbeat, they just stared at each other. The air between them crackled. resentment and defiance became tangled into one unspoken challenge.
Then he broke the moment by turning away, heading toward his study. "Go to bed," he said over his shoulder. "Tomorrow will be worse."
Worse. The word lodged in her throat like a splinter.
But she didn't go upstairs.
She waited until she heard the sound of his office door shut before she moved.
Something inside her refused to let the night end like this. Not with his voice in her ears and the image of that contract still burned behind her eyelids. Not with the knowledge that somewhere in this same house, Damian Cross was hiding the truth about her sister.
She needed answers.
And she was done waiting for him to give them.
Ava slipped off her heels, carrying them in one hand as she walked silently across the polished marble floor. The house at night was a different kind of creature. Every step she took felt like walking deeper into the mouth of something alive.
The door to Damian's study was half-closed when she reached it. Light spilled out a golden strip across the floor. She pressed her back against the wall, listening.
There was the sound of liquid being poured. The clink of glass. Papers rustling.
She inched forward, peering through the narrow gap.
Damian sat behind his desk, his jacket gone, sleeves rolled up, his forearms resting on the dark wood as he stared at something in front of him. His face was unreadable, cold and focused but his hand that was wrapped around the glass was tense.
On the desk lay a stack of files. One of them was open.
Ava's stomach twisted.
Her sister's name was on the tab. Lily.
She didn't think. She pushed the door open before fear could stop her.
"What are you doing with that?"
Damian looked up instantly, not startled, he never looked startled but his eyes sharpened
"You should be in bed." he said, and couldn't hide the slight irritation that he had been disturbed in his tone.
"I asked you a question."
He set the glass down, unhurried. "You're in no position to make demands."
"Is that my sister's file?" she pressed, stepping closer. "Why do you have that? What do you know about her?"
His jaw flexed once, subtly. Then, infuriatingly, he smiled. "You're persistent. I'll give you that."
"Don't play with me." Her voice cracked. "You said you could protect her. That means you know something. Where is she?"
He stood, his movement deliberate, slow, almost predatory. "Ava..."
"No!" she snapped, the word slicing through the room. "You keep saying this is for my protection, for hers, for everyone's protection, but you don't explain anything! I'm done playing the obedient fiancée."
His eyes darkened, the calm draining away, replaced by something colder. "You think defiance will get you answers?"
"I think silence is your weapon," she shot back. "And I'm not letting you use it on me anymore."
For a heartbeat, he didn't move. The air between them was alive and became dangerous. he stood up and started to walk to where she was standing, he walked past her and towards the door, closing it softly before he turned to look at her.
Then he came closer.
Ava's pulse jumped. Her back brushed the edge of the desk as he stopped a breath away.
"You want to know about Lily?" he said softly. "Fine. She was at a party. She met someone she shouldn't have. A man I've been watching for months. And then she disappeared."
Her stomach dropped. "Who?"
He studied her face for a long, unbearable moment. "If I told you that, you'd be dead before morning."
Her breath caught. "You're lying."
"I don't lie," he said, almost gently. "Not when it comes to danger."
"Then what do you gain by keeping me here? By marrying me?"
His hand came up, slowly, almost like he was warning her before he did it and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. "You're leverage," he murmured. "And a shield."
She froze. "Against who?"
"Against the people who'd kill to get what they think Lily took."
The words hit like a slap.
Her sister hadn't just gone missing. She'd been hunted.
Ava felt the world tilt. "What… what did she take?"
Damian didn't answer. His hand lingered near her face, not touching now, but close enough that she could feel the heat of him.
"Go to bed, Ava."
"No," she whispered, her voice shaking. "You can't keep doing this...dangling half-truths..."
His hand dropped. "Then stop asking questions you're not ready to hear the answers to."
"Try me."
A muscle jumped in his jaw. "You wouldn't survive the truth."
Something inside her cracked then, fear, anger, grief, all tangled together until she couldn't tell them apart.
"I'm already surviving you," she said.
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Not amusement. Something darker. Something that almost looked like… regret.
He turned away before she could see more. "Go to bed."
But this time, his voice wasn't sharp. It was quieter. Rougher.
She didn't move. "You can threaten me all you want," she whispered. "But I'm not your puppet, Damian. You can own my time, my image, my silence...but not me."
He stilled. His hand curled slowly into a fist at his side.
"You signed that contract," he said.
"And I'll burn it if I have to."
Her words hung between them like smoke. She could see the tension ripple through him, the way his shoulders tightened, the brief, almost imperceptible tremor in his jaw before he forced himself to stillness again.
Finally, he said, very softly, "You don't know what you're playing with."
"Then enlighten me."
He exhaled... a slow, deliberate release and then looked at her with eyes that seemed older than sin. "If I do," he said, "you'll never look at me the same way again."
Her pulse thundered. "Maybe I already don't."
A silence fell. Heavy. Charged.
Then, without another word, he brushed past her and left the study. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone with the flickering fire and the open file on the desk.
Her knees almost gave out.
She stared at Lily's name on the folder for a long time before reaching out, her fingers trembling. But before she could pull it closer, she saw the seal on the corner, some sort of emblem or crest she didn't recognize.
A serpent coiled around a dagger.
Her heart pounded.
Whatever Lily had stumbled into, whatever Damian was trying to hide, it wasn't just about business. It was something far worse.
Ava pressed her palm flat against the folder, her reflection faint in the glossy surface.
"I'll find you, Lily," she whispered. "Even if I have to go through him to do it."
But as Ava turned toward the door, her expression hardened.
He thought he could control her.
He had no idea what he'd just unleashed.