Ava's POV
I leaned my forehead against the wardrobe door, my breath shaky, chest tight. The silence behind me was deafening, like a storm waiting to break.
I could feel Orion's anger hanging thick in the air, even with the door separating us. Memories clawed at the edges of my mind—his hands around my waist, his lips soft against mine in Venice. Now, those same hands were nothing but chains.
As if on cue, the image of him tangled in sheets with Chloe flashed through my mind. What kind of animal is he? What does he take me for?
I dressed quickly, pulling on soft silk and tailored lines. It wasn’t about vanity—it was about feeling protected, cloaked in control. When I stepped out, Orion was still there, his back to me, hands clenched at his sides.
"Why are you still here? Why does seeing me with someone else bother you anyway?," I asked, my voice calm but edged with steel.