Claimed Raw by my Husband's Ruthless Best friend

Ava's POV

He laughed.

I wasn't some fake little laugh, but the the cruel kind that I wasn't ready for.

Julian just threw his head back and let it the laughter out, deep. The sound of his vicious laugh hit me in the chest, wrapped around my throat, and squeezed until I forgot how to breathe.

My legs gave out. I grabbed the arm of the leather chair just to stay on my feet. My nails dug in so hard that I felt the stitches pop under my fingers.

He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning, and took another slow sip of whiskey. The sunlight caught the glass and threw little broken pieces of gold across his sharp cheekbones.

"My love," he said, voice warm and lazy, like we were old friends sharing a joke, "I knew the second you walked into that club."

My heart stopped. It actually stopped the moment. Why would he refer me as his love? I just met him. My heart started pounding so loud that I could hear it in my ears.

All the blood left my face. The room tilted sideways. I opened my mouth... closed it... opened it again. The only thing that came out was nothing but a cracked whisper. "You... you knew?"

He lifted the glass toward me like he was toasting me, eyes radiating brutality. "Of course I knew. Ava Vance. Leon's perfect little doll with the perfect ring and... you know- " He paused, glaring at my body. "Those sad, hungry eyes. You think I wouldn't know my best buddy's wife?"

My stomach flipped so hard I almost threw up right there.

Everything from last night slammed back into me. I knew something was off but I didn't pay attention that night. I couldn't.

Julian set the glass down. The soft clink sounded like a gun going off. He leaned back against his desk, arms folded, and jacket pulling tight over those shoulders that had held me against a wall only hours ago.

"You really thought I wouldn't recognize Leon's wife when she walked straight up to me in those killer heels and that tiny dress?" His tongue touched his lip, slow. "Come on, sweetheart. I saw those wedding photos. You looked insane in white. Almost as good as you looked in nothing."

Heat rushed to my face, and shame burning so hot I couldn't tell if I wanted to cry or scream. My hands shook at my sides.

"Why?" It ripped out of me, rough and broken. "Why the hell did you touch me if you knew?"

He shrugged like it was nothing. "You came to me, remember? Pushed that perfect body against mine, looked up with those big needy eyes, and asked, real sweet to be wrecked." His smile got sharper. "I'm not the guy who says no to a girl who's begging. Especially when she's my best friend's wife."

He was still smiling, loving every second of watching me fall apart.

I took a shaky step back. My heel caught the rug. I almost went down hard but caught myself on a chair, nails scratching the leather.

"I'm leaving," I said, voice cracking all over the place.

I turned, fingers fumbling for the door handle.

His voice followed me, smooth as silk, poisonous as hell.

"Page Six would eat this up," he said, casual, like he was reading the weather. "'Billionaire heiress Ava Vance caught in secret sex club.' Ohh! I can see it now. Those pretty bruises I left on your neck, the ones you tried to cover with makeup this morning. So damn artistic."

My hand froze on the handle. Ice poured through my veins.

I turned around slow.

He hadn't moved. Still leaning there, glass dangling from his fingers, and sunlight making him look like the devil on vacation.

"What do you want?" My voice came out tiny and broken.

He pushed off the desk and walked toward me, slow, every step loud in the quiet room. The air got thick with cedar, smoke, and the smell of last night still on his skin as it is on mine. My back hit the door. Nowhere else left to run.

He stopped so close that I could feel his heat, radiating off his body. I had to tilt my head back to look at him. His eyes were pure black, shining with winning.

"I'm giving you a choice," he said, low and dangerous. "Three courses. You show up to every single one to complete these courses. No excuses."

I blinked, panic and confusion crashing together in my head. "What the hell does that even mean? What the hell are you saying?"

He leaned in, lips brushing my ear, breath hot and slow. Goosebumps ran down my arms like fire.

"You're gonna pay for cheating, Ava," he whispered. "You're gonna be my personal little toy until I say we're done."

The words exploded in my head.

I jerked back, slammed against the door. "You're crazy."

He straightened, his smile getting wider. "Maybe. But you're the one who crawled into my bed. Begged me to choke you, and make you scream. Oh, and I have it all on video. Nice and clear. The sound is just perfect."

My stomach turned. I slapped a hand over my mouth so I wouldn't be sick.

"Leon will definitely kill you," I hissed through my fingers.

Julian didn't even blink. "Leon will kill you first, princess. You cheated on him. I'm just the guy you picked to do it with." He tilted his head, showing fake sympathy. "How do you think he'll feel watching his wife come so hard she cries? Hearing you beg a stranger to ruin you?"

I couldn't breathe. The walls closed in on me.

He stepped closer, caging me with one arm beside my head. His smell filled my lungs, cedar, whiskey, sex, and me.

"You say one word," he murmured, voice soft but hard as steel, "and I will be the end of you. I'll send everything. Photos. Videos. Audio. You sounded so pretty while begging, Ava. 'Please, harder. Don't stop.' Ring any bells?"

Tears burned. I blinked fast, but they fell anyway, hot down my cheeks.

"Or," he went on, thumb brushing my lip, smearing my lipstick, "you be a good girl. Keep quiet. Open those legs when I say. Your marriage stays safe. Your perfect life stays perfect. Leon never knows. It's a win-win."

I stared at him. Tears kept coming.

He smiled like the war was already over.

I grabbed my bag off the floor, hands shaking so bad I almost dropped it again.

"Go to hell!!" I spat, voice raw and ugly.

I yanked the door open and stumbled into the hallway. The air out here felt cold and thin. My heels echoed too loud on the marble as I ran for the elevator.

His voice floated after me, lazy and amused.

"See you tomorrow, Mrs. Vance."

The doors closed on my reflection: pale, shaking, mascara running, and lipstick wrecked.

And then it hit me, hard, like a wave crashing over my head.

If I'd just said yes when Bella who begged me to tag along to Paris with her...

If I'd stayed home like a good wife...

If I'd never walked into that damn club...

I pressed my fist to my mouth and bit down until I tasted blood.

God!!

If I'd just gone to Paris...

None of this would've happened.