Married To The Devil Who Bought My Revenge

~Ava's POV~

"I'm ten weeks pregnant."

The priest had just asked if anyone knew any reason why this marriage shouldn't proceed. That's when Lily collapsed.

"Pregnant?" I asked, looking down at my sister sprawled on the marble floor in her lavender bridesmaid dress. "Lily, what are you talking about? And what does that have to do with my wedding?"

"The baby is Damien's."

The cathedral went dead silent. 

I heard the words... I mean I understood them individually. But put together like that, they didn't make any sense. 

My sister. My fiancé. Ten weeks pregnant? That would mean they'd been sleeping together since before he proposed.

I watched as Damien knelt beside Lily, taking her hand... the hand that should've been holding mine. I mean, we were just in the middle of saying our vows.

"Tell me she's lying," I managed to say, my voice sounding steadier than I expected. "Damien, tell me this is some kind of sick joke or prank."

He looked up at me, and I saw the guilt immediately. But it wasn't the devastated kind... it was more like the annoyed kind... like I'd caught him doing something inconvenient.

"Ava, let's talk about this privately."

"Privately?" I almost laughed, gesturing at the cathedral full of people. "There are three hundred people here and every news camera in Manhattan. I think we're past privately already."

"You're being dramatic," he said, standing up. "Lily needs help. She's fragile right now."

"She's fragile?"

"She's carrying the Hart heir, Ava. That changes everything."

I stared at him, waiting for the laugh or 'we got you' line... to say something, to explain or even apologise. Instead, he stood and brushed off his tuxedo like this was a minor scheduling conflict.

"The merger still needs to happen," he continued. "The stock price is already unstable, and if this turns into a scandal..." He actually looked at me like I was supposed to understand. "Lily should take your place. At the altar. Today."

For a second, I thought I'd misheard him. "You want me to step aside so you can marry my sister? Right now? In my wedding dress?"

My father pushed through the crowd before he could respond. "Everyone, please stay calm. This is just a minor complication."

"Dad..."

He grabbed my arm hard enough to leave marks. "Give Lily the veil, Ava. Now."

"Seriously, Dad? He cheated on me with Lily!"

"I don't care," my father said. "Do you know how much this merger is worth? Do you have any idea what's at stake?"

"What's at stake? What's at stake?" My voice was rising, and I didn't care anymore. "I spent five years building this company for you. Five years writing every report, fixing every problem, covering up Lily's messes. And you want me to just hand over my wedding because it's convenient?"

"You're being selfish," my mother said, appearing on his other side. "Think about the family for once."

"I am the only one who ever thinks about the family!"

"Then prove it," my father said. "Step aside. Let Lily finish this wedding. The merger happens, the stock stabilizes, and everyone wins."

"Everyone except me."

"You're strong, Ava. You'll survive this." Damien said, like that settled it. "Lily needs protection right now. She's carrying the future of the Hart dynasty."

Something inside me just broke. Or maybe it finally woke up.

I yanked my hand free from my father's. "You know what? Fvck this! Fvck you all!!!"

I pulled off my three carats, princess cut engagement ring I'd spent weeks designing, hours picking the perfect stone. Everyone expected me to throw it at him.

"Ava?!" my father shouted. "Ava!!!"

I didn't respond. Instead, I walked over to the champagne fountain and dropped it in with a soft splash.

The entire cathedral gasped.

"Ava Hale!" My father's voice boomed. "If you walk out that door, you are no longer my daughter!"

I kept walking.

"You're disowned! Stripped of the Hale name, your inheritance, your position at Hale Industries!"

I pushed open the cathedral doors. It was raining heavily, like the sky was pouring out the tears I'd been holding back. I stepped into it, getting soaked immediately. My Vera Wang dress was ruined in seconds, but I didn't care.

Behind me, I heard the priest's voice start up again. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today..."

They were actually continuing the wedding... Lily was going to walk down that aisle in my place.

I walked down the cathedral steps into the storm with absolutely nowhere to go.

-

I had no idea what I was thinking, but I found myself in Club Nexus.

The club was packed and loud and exactly what I needed. I pushed through the crowd in my ruined wedding dress, and people stared, but I didn't care anymore.

The bartender's eyes went wide when I sat down. "Miss Hale, I saw what happened on the news. I'm so sorry-"

"Whiskey. Don't stop pouring until I tell you to stop."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Do I look like I care about good ideas right now?"

He poured. I drank.

"Another," I said, pushing my empty glass toward the him.

"Miss Hale, maybe you should..."

"Another."

By the fifth or seventh... I already lost count at three, the room was already spinning in a pleasant way, and I couldn't quite remember why I was upset.

I was reaching for the next glass when someone grabbed my wrist. 

"That's enough."

I looked up, ready to tell whoever it was to fuck off. But the words died when I saw him.

Tall, expensive suit, dark hair... the kind of face that should be illegal because it was too distracting. And those blue eyes that looked like they could see every stupid thing I'd ever done.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Someone who knows when a person is trying to erase a bad day," he said. His voice in a deep, baritone voice. "It's not working, by the way."

"How would you know?"

"Because you're still conscious and angry. Give it another hour and you'll just be sick."

The bartender looked nervous. "Sir, should I call..."

"I've got it," the stranger said. He let go of my wrist but didn't step back. "You're Ava Hale."

"Not anymore, apparently. Didn't you hear? According to my father, I don't exist."

"I saw what happened. At the cathedral."

"Great. You and everyone else with an internet connection." I tried to grab my glass back, but he moved it out of reach. "Can you fuck off? I'm having a private breakdown."

"In a club. In your wedding dress. Very private."

"Yeah, well, they didn't leave me much choice."

"There's always a choice. The question is what you do next."

I laughed bitterly. "Next? Tomorrow I wake up with no money, no home, and no family. That's what's next."

"Not if you come with me."

"I'm not going anywhere with a stranger."

"Then you'll pass out here in your wedding dress, and someone will film it. Tomorrow's headline will be 'Disgraced Heiress Found Drunk.' Is that what you want?"

I hated that he was right.

"You don't even know me."

"I know you just got publicly humiliated by your family and fiancé. I know they chose your sister over you. I know they disowned you in front of three hundred people and every camera in the city." He tilted his head. "Am I missing anything?"

"The part where you explain why you care."

"I don't like waste," he said. "And watching someone with your skills drink themselves stupid in a club is wasteful."

"That didn't answer my first question. Who are you?"

He held out his hand. "Dominic Adams."

I stared at his hand like it might bite me. "The Dominic Adams? The Butcher of Wall Street?"

"Some people call me that."

"You destroy companies for fun."

"I destroy companies that deserve it," he corrected. "There's a difference."

The room tilted, and I grabbed the bar to steady myself. His hand shot out, catching my elbow. "When's the last time you ate?"

"I don't remember. Yesterday?"

"That explains it." He pulled out his phone, typed something quickly. "You're coming with me."

"Why do you care what happens to me?"

"Because I understand what it's like to want to burn everything down."

"And you think I want that?"

"I think you should," he said. "They destroyed you today. Publicly. On purpose. And they did it because they thought you'd just take it." He turned to look at me. "Are you going to take it?"

I should have been scared. Going home with a stranger. Drunk. Vulnerable. No one knowing where I was.

But I wasn't scared.

Maybe because fear required caring about what happened next, and right now, I didn't.

Or maybe because something in Dominic Adams's voice told me he understood exactly what I was feeling.

"I don't know what I'm going to do," I admitted.

"That's okay," he said. "We'll figure it out tomorrow."

"We?"

His hand found mine in the space between us. "If you want."

I should have pulled away. Should have demanded he take me to a hotel. Should have done a lot of things.

Instead, I asked. "What if I want to burn it all down?"

"Then I'll hand you the matches," he said.

The words should have scared me. Instead, they felt like permission.

Within the hour, we were exiting the private elevator, into his penthouse. "Hungry?" he asked as the doors closed.

"I don't know what I am anymore."

"That's fair."

I looked around... floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan, everything was sleek, expensive, and precisely arranged. Like him.

"Kitchen's through there," he said, shrugging off his jacket. "I'll order something. Any preferences?"

"I just want..." I trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.

He looked at me, and I felt seen in a way I hadn't in five years. "What do you want, Ava?"

The question hung in the air between us. 

I thought about my ruined wedding. My sister in my place. My father's voice disowning me. Damien's face when he chose Lily.

I thought about five years of being invisible. Perfect. Useful. Disposable.

And I thought about Dominic Adams standing in this neat penthouse, looking at me like I was something more than broken.

"I want to stop feeling like this," I whispered.

He moved closer without touching. "Like what?"

"Like I'm nothing without them."

"You're not nothing." His voice was quiet but certain. "You built an empire they couldn't run without you. You just didn't realize you were the empire."

Something in my chest cracked open.

"I don't want to think anymore," I said. "About them. About today. About any of it."

"Then don't."

"How?"

He reached up, his hand cupping my face with surprising gentleness. His thumb brushed across my cheekbone, and I realized I was crying.

"Let me help you forget," he said softly. "Just for tonight."

I should have said no. Should have asked what he meant. Should have been smart and careful and all the things I'd always been.

Instead, I kissed him.