Orion's POV

The week went by faster than I expected. Every day blurred into the next, consumed by the ever-growing list of tasks surrounding the wedding. I didn’t see much of Ava in those days, but that was by design.

I needed her to feel the absence of my presence, to start wondering what was happening behind the scenes.

Chloe, on the other hand, was a different story. She wasn't happy about the marriage to Ava, but I reassured her over and over again that it was all temporary.

Once I had Ava out of the way, Chloe would have what was rightfully hers. I could almost see the fire in her eyes ignite every time I told her this. And I backed up my words with actions—promises of loyalty, devotion, and yes, passion.

But the most convincing of all was the night we spent together, where I reminded her how much she meant to me.

Ava, though, remained distant, focused, and determined. She still had no idea of the full scope of my plan. And that made everything even sweeter. It was all coming together just as I had envisioned.

The day of the wedding arrived, and I couldn’t help but feel a slight shift within myself. My mind was still sharp, but there was something about the finality of it all, the fact that I was about to make her mine—legally, permanently—that gave me a strange sense of satisfaction.

The ceremony was set at a lavish venue, one that screamed luxury without the need for over-the-top extravagance. Ava, in her simple white dress, looked as stunning as I’d imagined.

The dress was understated, yet it somehow screamed of her elegance—everything about it hugged her body in all the right places, outlining the curves I would love to trace with my hands.

But I willed myself to focus. This wasn’t the time to let my mind wander, not when the task ahead was so important.

Ava’s sister, Holly, walked her down the aisle, not her father. Of course, that was intentional. She had no use for her father. She had made sure that he wouldn't show up. He might also have his own reasons for not being here, ones I didn’t care to understand. At this moment, it didn't matter.

The ceremony unfolded with all the usual formalities—an exchange of vows that were more business than anything else, a kiss to seal the deal.

But as the priest spoke the words, I couldn’t help but notice the scornful glares from Mr. Connor. He stood there, glaring at me with a fury I couldn’t quite place. He had always wanted Ava for himself.

I had always known this marriage wasn’t about love, but even now, as I caught those sharp glares from Mr. Connor, I couldn’t shake the feeling of triumph. I was the one who won. I had her now.

I glanced at Ava, whose eyes never left me, her expression full of anger and disdain. Let her hate me, I thought. It makes this whole thing more interesting.

The vows felt like a blur. She spoke her words, her voice unwavering despite the bitterness that hung between us. I spoke mine, my tone smooth, assuring everyone present that this was just the beginning.

Once we were officially pronounced husband and wife, I could feel the weight of it all sinking in. The room erupted in applause, but my mind was elsewhere. Ava’s fury was palpable. She was cornered, trapped. But I didn’t care.

As we moved through the usual post-ceremony activities—pictures, congratulatory messages, forced smiles—my mind kept returning to her.

The way she carried herself, the way she held her head high despite everything. She was resilient, but that wouldn’t last long.

I watched as she interacted with the guests, her movements sharp, deliberate, like a woman who still had control. But I knew that wasn’t true. Not anymore.

The reception was just as grand, full of rich chatter and feigned happiness. It was all part of the act, part of the charade I was more than willing to play. But as the night wore on, I could feel the weight of Ava’s gaze on me, burning through the air.

She couldn’t stand me, couldn’t stand the situation she was in, and yet, there was something about that anger that excited me. She didn’t know it yet, but she had already lost.

The music swelled, and I found myself pulling Ava aside. “You look stunning tonight,” I said, my voice low, teasing. She didn’t respond, didn’t even look at me. Her eyes were cold, distant.

“Don’t you dare think you’ve won,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, a threat hidden in her words.

I smiled, leaning closer so only she could hear me. “I already have.”

Her eyes flashed with fury. But beneath the anger, I could see something else—fear. Fear of what I might do next. Fear of how far I would push her.

But I was only getting started.

As the night stretched on, Chloe found me, her eyes glowing with a mix of desire and pride. We shared a few quiet moments, but I couldn't get my mind off of Ava. The way she looked at me, the way she held herself—like she was still in control, still defiant.

But I knew better.

The reception continued, and just as I thought the night would drag on without incident, something happened that I hadn’t anticipated.

Ava’s hand brushed against mine as we passed each other in the hall. The touch was light, barely even a touch at all, but it sent a jolt through me—a surge of electricity that I couldn’t ignore. It was fleeting, but it was enough to send my mind spinning.

What was that?

I watched her as she walked away, the motion of her hips, the subtle tension in her shoulders. Was she playing me, or was she starting to crack?

I couldn’t tell, but I wasn’t about to let it go.

Something about tonight felt different. Ava’s defiance, her fire—it was the only thing keeping me on edge. The only thing that made this game worth playing.

But for how much longer?

I leaned back against the wall, watching her fade into the crowd. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change.

And I couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.