**Chapter 4 – The First Clash**
The next morning came far too soon.
Ava had barely slept after the gala. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the flash of cameras, the way Damian's hand had fit perfectly against her waist, the way his voice had dipped when he said, *"You're doing fine."*
She told herself it meant nothing. It was all part of the act. Still, her pulse refused to slow down whenever she thought about it.
---
At nine sharp, she arrived at Frost Corporation, clutching the employee badge Elena had given her. The building loomed like a glass cathedral—cold, perfect, and utterly intimidating.
Employees stopped and stared as she passed. Whispers rippled down the hall. *The CEO's wife.* Some looked curious, others skeptical. One woman muttered, "Guess sleeping your way up works after all."
Ava bit her lip but didn't respond. Let them talk. She was here to do her job, fake or not.
---
Damian's office was on the top floor, overlooking half the city. He didn't glance up when she entered. "You're late," he said.
She checked her phone. "It's 8:59."
"In my company," he said without missing a beat, "you're late if you're not early."
She crossed her arms. "And in my world, people say good morning before they start issuing threats."
That earned her the slightest lift of his eyebrow. "Good morning, Mrs. Frost. How's life as a CEO's wife treating you?"
"Like a hostage with better shoes."
A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but he turned away quickly. "We have a press briefing at noon. I want you to stand beside me when I announce the partnership with Linford Holdings."
Ava froze. "Linford Holdings? As in Catherine Linford?"
"Yes," Damian said, typing something on his computer. "She's their spokesperson now."
Her stomach twisted. "Your ex-fiancée."
"She's a business ally, nothing more." His tone was flat, final. "You will be civil."
"Civil?" Ava repeated. "You mean, stand there smiling while she looks at me like I stole her favorite toy?"
He met her eyes. "You didn't steal anything."
"No," Ava said softly, "I signed for it."
The air thickened between them. Damian's expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened. "Don't make this harder than it already is."
"I'm not the one making it hard, Damian."
Before he could answer, Elena knocked and entered with a tablet. "Mr. Frost, the conference room is ready."
Damian straightened his tie. "Good. Let's go."
---
The press conference was a blur of camera flashes and murmuring reporters. Damian spoke with practiced charm, announcing the merger and future plans. Ava stood at his side, smiling just enough to seem genuine.
Then Catherine Linford appeared.
She was radiant in red, every inch of her designed to draw attention. Her smile was polished, but her eyes—cold and sharp—found Ava instantly.
"Mrs. Frost," Catherine said sweetly as the cameras rolled. "You're even prettier in person. Damian always had impeccable taste."
Ava's smile didn't falter. "And you're exactly how I imagined—strategic and... unforgettable."
Catherine laughed, the kind of laugh that could cut glass. "Oh, Damian, you've trained her well."
The comment drew a few chuckles from the press. Ava's cheeks burned, but before she could speak, Damian's hand brushed hers—a silent command. Stay calm.
He turned to the cameras. "My wife is far too gracious to be provoked by cheap remarks."
Catherine's smile stiffened. "Of course. I'd hate to think she was sensitive."
"Only to dishonesty," Ava said smoothly. "I find it ruins the room."
A hush fell. Damian's eyes flicked to her, half warning, half impressed. Catherine's smirk faltered.
The reporters loved it.
---
After the conference, Damian stormed into his office, Ava right behind him.
"What was that?" he demanded. "You deliberately antagonized her in front of the press!"
Ava crossed her arms. "She insulted me in front of the press. You expected me to smile and curtsy?"
"You're supposed to be composed. Not reckless."
"And you're supposed to have my back!" The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Silence. Damian's eyes darkened. "This isn't about sides, Ava. It's about control."
"Exactly," she said, stepping closer. "That's all this is to you, isn't it? A controlled illusion."
He moved closer too, his voice low. "You think I enjoy this? You think I wanted a contract marriage just to parade you in front of cameras?"
"Then why do it?" she whispered. "Why me?"
He hesitated. For a moment, his mask cracked. "Because you were the only one who didn't want anything from me."
Ava's heart stuttered. "And now?"
"Now," he said, forcing the emotion back down, "I need you to remember why you're here."
She stared at him. "Don't worry, Mr. Frost. I won't forget."
Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and walked out, her heels echoing through the corridor.
Damian watched her go, his hands clenched into fists. He told himself it was frustration—but deep down, he knew the truth.
He was losing control.
And it terrified him.