Chapter 10 – The Contract Cracks
The morning after the attack dawned eerily calm.
Ava sat by the window of the villa, watching sunlight creep across the floorboards. The storm had passed, but the tension lingered like fog. Damian was on the phone again, his tone clipped, efficient — but there was an edge to his voice that betrayed the sleepless night behind it.
"Find every connection she has left," he ordered. "Freeze the accounts, terminate her contracts, and make sure Catherine Linford's name disappears from every boardroom in this city."
He ended the call and finally looked up. For the first time, Ava noticed how tired he seemed — not just physically, but somewhere deeper. His shoulders, usually straight and proud, sagged slightly. His eyes, sharp as steel, carried something fragile.
"You should rest," she said quietly.
"I can't. Not yet."
"You saved my life, Damian. You deserve—"
"I don't deserve anything," he cut in sharply, then sighed. "Sorry. I just… can't stop thinking about what could've happened."
She rose from her chair, stepping closer. "We both survived. That's what matters."
He looked at her then, really looked — and the cold mask he always wore began to crack. "You keep saying that like it's simple."
"Maybe it is," she said softly. "Maybe you just make it complicated."
His lips twitched, almost into a smile, but the weight of everything unsaid hung between them.
---
That afternoon, a team of security agents arrived to assess the damage. Damian stayed outside with them, barking instructions, while Ava wandered through the villa, tracing her fingers along the shattered glass now cleaned from the floor.
Each room carried the faint scent of smoke and salt. The memory of the gunfire replayed in her mind — the way he'd shielded her, the sound of his voice, steady even in chaos.
He could've run. But he hadn't.
A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts. It was Elena — Damian's assistant — holding a stack of documents and her ever-present tablet.
"Mrs. Frost," she said politely. "Mr. Frost asked me to have you review these."
Ava frowned. "What is it?"
"The renewal draft for your marriage contract," Elena said carefully. "It expires in thirty days."
The words hit her like ice water.
---
By the time Damian returned inside, Ava was sitting in the study with the contract open on the table. He paused in the doorway, expression unreadable.
"So you saw it," he said quietly.
"Yes," she replied, voice tight. "You were planning to renew it without even asking me?"
"It was a precaution," he said, walking closer. "With everything going on, ending the contract now would create more scandal. We can't afford that."
She rose to her feet. "Can't afford it, or you can't stand it?"
His jaw clenched. "Don't twist this, Ava. I'm trying to protect you."
"By chaining me to a lie?" she snapped. "Damian, this isn't just business anymore. You know it."
He didn't answer. His silence was louder than denial.
Ava stepped closer, anger and hurt colliding inside her. "Tell me something honestly. When you kissed me that night in front of the cameras… was it part of the act too?"
His eyes flicked up, and for a split second, the truth broke through.
"No," he said, voice low. "That part wasn't."
The admission hit her harder than any lie ever could.
"Then what are we doing?" she whispered. "Because I can't keep pretending that none of this means anything."
Damian exhaled shakily. "Neither can I."
---
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The air between them hummed with everything they'd been running from — fear, longing, guilt, need.
Then Damian closed the distance between them.
He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from her face. His fingers lingered on her cheek, his voice barely above a whisper. "You've changed everything, Ava. You made me feel again… and that terrifies me."
She looked up at him, heart pounding. "Then stop being afraid."
He hesitated, then pulled her into him, their lips meeting with the weight of everything they'd been holding back. It wasn't a kiss for show — it was raw, desperate, real. The kind that made time blur.
When they finally broke apart, Damian's forehead rested against hers. "If I let myself love you," he murmured, "I'll lose control. I can't afford that."
She smiled sadly. "Maybe love isn't about control."
He closed his eyes. "You don't understand what happens when I lose it."
"Then help me understand," she said, her voice trembling.
He opened his mouth — but before he could speak, his phone buzzed on the table.
He checked the screen, and his face went pale.
"What is it?" Ava asked.
He looked up slowly, his expression hardening again. "Catherine's gone."
"What do you mean gone?"
"She disappeared last night. No trace, no signal. She's erased herself."
A chill ran down Ava's spine. "So she's still out there?"
Damian's gaze drifted toward the window, toward the fading light of dusk. "Yes," he said softly. "And she's not finished with us."
---
That night, Ava sat awake in bed, the sound of waves outside mingling with her racing thoughts.
The contract lay open on the desk beside her — a symbol of everything false about their beginning… and everything real that had somehow grown from it.
The paper might still bind them, but the truth had already broken through.
Their marriage had started as a deal.
Now, it was something neither of them could walk away from — not without breaking completely.