The First Lesson

Ava arrived at Cole Enterprises at exactly 8:00 a.m. sharp.

She had barely slept, her mind tangled in a mess of thoughts, but exhaustion wasn't an excuse—not in this world. If Damien Cole wanted to test her, she would meet him head-on.

The sleek, black car glided to a smooth stop at the private entrance. Before the driver could step out to open the door, Michael, Damien's ever-stoic bodyguard, reached for the handle and pulled it open. His face, as always, remained unreadable, his sharp features set in a mask of professionalism.

Ava inhaled deeply before stepping out, feeling the crisp morning air wrap around her like an omen.

Inside the Cole Enterprises building, she was met with hushed whispers and lingering stares.

She ignored them.

She was used to people staring—at her old, thrift-store clothes, at the way she barely fit into high society. But today, it was different. These people weren't just curious. They were assessing her. Judging.

She could hear snippets of hushed conversations as she walked past:

"That's her? Damien Cole's wife?"

"She's not what I expected."

"I wonder how long this marriage will last."

The words stung, but Ava kept her head high, refusing to let them see how deep they cut.

She reached the private elevator at the far end of the lobby, where Michael swiped a security card before stepping aside to let her in first.

The doors slid shut behind them, enclosing them in silence.

As the elevator ascended, Ava could feel Michael's presence beside her—silent but watchful.

"You'll be expected to answer to him immediately," he finally said, his voice low but firm. "If you're given an order, don't hesitate."

Ava turned her head slightly. "So, I'm supposed to obey without question?"

Michael didn't answer right away. "If you want to survive in his world, yes."

Ava let out a slow breath, watching the numbers on the panel climb higher. "Noted."

The elevator finally chimed, and as the doors slid open, she stepped onto Damien's private floor.

The hallway stretched out in front of her, bathed in soft lighting. Every detail was sleek, modern—sterile. It was eerily quiet, the usual buzz of an office absent.

Michael didn't escort her further. "He's waiting inside," he said, nodding toward the double doors at the end of the corridor.

Ava's fingers twitched at her sides, but she steeled herself. She wouldn't let Damien intimidate her.

With measured steps, she crossed the hallway and pushed open the heavy doors.

---

Inside the Lion's Den

Damien was exactly where she expected him to be—standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, hands buried in his pockets, his broad frame illuminated by the morning sun.

He didn't turn immediately. Instead, he let the silence stretch between them, as if testing her patience.

Ava exhaled through her nose. "I'm here."

Slowly, Damien turned.

His dark gaze swept over her with that same unreadable expression. He studied her—assessing, calculating.

"You're on time," he noted, his voice smooth but distant.

"You gave me a time," she replied evenly.

Damien's lips curled slightly, almost amused. "Punctuality is a good start."

His eyes flickered to her outfit.

She had chosen carefully today—a fitted ivory blouse tucked into tailored black slacks. Simple, clean, but professional.

No doubt, he would still find something to criticize.

Damien walked toward his desk, picking up a thick envelope before extending it toward her.

"Open it."

Ava hesitated, but only briefly. She stepped forward, took the envelope, and pulled out a stack of glossy photographs.

The first few seemed ordinary—recent pictures of her, taken in public places.

Then she flipped to the next one.

Her breath caught.

It was her—standing outside her old apartment, holding a grocery bag.

But she wasn't alone.

Her mother was beside her.

Ava's grip tightened on the photograph.

She flipped through more pictures, each one more invasive than the last. Her at work. Her in coffee shops. Even one of her stepping out of the shower, curtains barely shielding her figure.

Her stomach twisted.

Her voice was dangerously low. "What is this?"

Damien leaned against his desk, crossing his arms. "Surveillance."

Her head snapped up, anger flaring in her chest. "You had me followed?"

"I needed to know who I was marrying," he said simply.

Ava slammed the photos onto his desk. "You had no right to invade my life like this!"

Damien's expression remained unbothered. "I had every right. You're my wife now."

She clenched her fists, nails biting into her palms.

"Why are you showing me this?" she asked, barely keeping her voice steady.

Damien stepped closer, his presence suffocating. "Because from today onward, your past is irrelevant. You are no longer Ava Sinclair. You are Ava Cole."

She met his gaze, refusing to cower. "And what if I don't?"

His smirk was slow, sharp. "Then I'll make sure you regret it."

Ava's jaw tightened, but before she could respond, he pulled out another envelope and tossed it onto the desk.

"These," he said darkly, "are the pictures your teachers received."

Ava's stomach dropped.

She reached for the envelope with trembling fingers and pulled out the contents. Her old school photos—ones she had thought were long buried.

Damien watched her reaction with quiet amusement. "I thought I told you to delete all your past pictures from the internet. I don't want them spreading around here—or on social media. Now I have to pay people off to erase them."

Her breath came in shallow bursts.

Damien's voice was ice. "Delete everything you have that is about your past."

Ava swallowed hard. "And if I don't?"

His eyes darkened. "Then you have a cause, not a complaint. You'll have to do something for us in return."

The weight of his words settled over her like chains.

Damien wasn't just erasing her past.

He was making sure she owed him for it.

And that was a debt she knew he wouldn't let her forget.

Before she could speak, a sharp knock echoed through the office.

Damien's gaze flicked to the door.

Ava tensed.

The knock came again—firm, confident.

Damien straightened, his expression unreadable. "Come in."

The door swung open.

The moment Damien saw who it was, his entire demeanor shifted.

His usual controlled mask faltered, just for a second. His brows knitted together, his shoulders tensed.

It was subtle. Barely noticeable.

But Ava saw it.

Whoever this person was, Damien hadn't expected them.

A heavy silence filled the room.

Then—

"Hello, Damien. Long time no see."

Ava's breath hitched.

Even without looking, she could feel the change in the air.

This wasn't just anyone.

This was someone who had the power to rattle Damien Cole.

And that alone told her—

This was only the beginning.