Ava Sinclair

Chapter 4:

(Ava's POV – )

The second I stepped back into my apartment, I felt heavier.

Like the weight of what I'd done was finally crashing down on me.

I had signed a deal with the devil. And now?

I had to face it.

---

The Delivery –

I was still lost in my thoughts when a sharp knock rattled the door.

I flinched.

Mom looked up from the couch, brows furrowed. "Are you expecting someone?"

"No," I muttered, stomach twisting.

I opened the door.

A man in a black suit stood there, holding a sleek white box. His expression was blank, professional.

"Miss Sinclair?"

I hesitated, then nodded.

He handed me the box. "A delivery from Mr. Sterling."

I stared at it like it was ticking.

Before I could respond, he turned and walked away, disappearing into a sleek black car.

I shut the door slowly, my heart pounding.

Mom stood, her hands pressed together. "Ava… what's going on?"

I walked to the table, set the box down, and just… stared at it.

The weight of everything was too much.

I exhaled shakily. "I need to tell you something."

Mom's expression shifted—from worry to full-on fear. "Ava, what did you do?"

I swallowed. My throat felt tight, my chest heavy. I had no choice.

I sat down, my hands trembling slightly. "It's about Dad's debt. It's about Richard Sterling."

Her face drained of color.

I had never seen her look so scared.

"Tell me," she whispered.

I took a deep breath. "He gave me a deal. A way to erase the debt. A way to make sure you and Ethan never have to struggle again."

"Ava," Mom said, voice cracking. "What did you do?"

I met her eyes. "I agreed to marry his son."

Silence.

The kind of silence that claws at your throat, that makes your heartbeat sound like a drum in your ears.

Mom took a step back, shaking her head. "No. No, Ava. Tell me you're joking."

I clenched my fists. "I didn't have a choice, Mom. He—he threatened us. Said if I refused, he'd collect the debt another way. And you know what that means."

Mom sank onto the couch, hands covering her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Ava, this isn't right. You can't—"

"I already did," I whispered.

Her eyes snapped up, wide with horror.

"I signed the contract."

Mom shook her head violently. "No. No, no, no. We'll find another way, we always do—"

"There is no other way, Mom!" I snapped, my voice breaking.

She flinched.

I sucked in a sharp breath, pressing my fingers against my temple. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I just… I couldn't let him take everything from us."

Tears slipped down her cheeks. "Oh, sweetheart…"

I looked down at the box.

I already knew what was inside.

I lifted the lid.

A black, floor-length gown. Sleek. Expensive. The kind of dress a woman wore when she needed to command attention.

A small white card sat on top.

I picked it up, reading the sharp, cold words.

"Wear this. Be presentable." – Richard Sterling

The audacity.

Mom's voice shook. "Ava… you're really going through with this?"

I clenched my jaw. "I don't have a choice."

Mom wiped at her eyes, standing slowly. "Then at least… promise me something."

I swallowed hard. "What?"

Her lips trembled. "Don't let them break you."

My chest ached.

I reached out, squeezing her hand. "I promise."

Even if I was already cracking.

---

The First Meeting –

The restaurant was pure luxury.

Soft lighting, crystal chandeliers, the scent of aged wine and money floating through the air.

As I stepped inside, whispers rippled around me.

People turned. Men stared.

Because the dress? It fit like a second skin. Hugging my curves, sweeping to the floor in a way that made me feel untouchable.

And Damien Sterling?

He saw me.

And forgot how to breathe.

I spotted him instantly—sitting at a private table, whiskey glass in hand, exuding pure arrogance.

But for one second, his mask slipped.

His gray eyes darkened, raking over me with undeniable surprise.

Like he hadn't expected this. Like he hadn't expected me.

I smirked and walked over, sliding into the chair across from him.

Silence.

Thick. Tense.

I arched a brow. "Well? Are you going to keep staring, or do we start discussing our wedding vows?"

His jaw tightened. "Cute."

I shrugged, drumming my fingers on the table. "I try."

He exhaled sharply, setting his glass down with a hard clink.

"Let's get one thing straight, Sinclair," he said, voice low and sharp. "I don't want this. I don't want you."

I smirked. "Good. That makes two of us."

His fingers tapped against the table. Agitated. "Then why the hell are you here?"

I leaned in slightly. "Ask your father."

A flicker of something dangerous crossed his face.

And that's when I knew.

He had no idea.

I tilted my head. "Wait… You didn't know about this, did you?"

His fingers curled into fists.

My smirk widened. "Wow. Looks like Daddy Sterling plays God with both our lives."

Damien's jaw flexed, rage flickering in his storm-gray eyes. "I don't take orders from him."

I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Then I guess you'll be taking them from me."

His lips parted slightly. Like he hadn't expected me to fight back.

And in that moment, I realized something important.

This wasn't just an arranged marriage.

It was a war.

And I was ready to win.

---