If there was one thing Ava Carter was sure of, it was that she hated waking up next to Damon Sinclair.
Correction: She hated waking up anywhere near Damon Sinclair.
Yet here she was, pacing the massive bedroom, her arms crossed as she glared at the smug idiot stretching on the bed.
"You swear I got into bed myself?" Ava demanded, still refusing to believe she had sleepwalked.
Damon yawned. "I swear on my extremely expensive car collection."
Ava narrowed her eyes. "Not convincing enough."
Damon smirked. "Fine. I swear on your ugly pink bunny pajamas."
Ava gasped. "How do you know about those?!"
Damon gave her a lazy smile. "You were wearing them in your sleep last night."
Ava turned scarlet. She had completely forgotten she changed into her comfortable bunny-print pajamas before sleeping! And now this jerk had seen her in them?!
"You—you—you—!" Ava grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it at him.
Damon dodged easily, laughing. "Come on, Carter. You should be grateful I didn’t take a picture. It would’ve gone viral in seconds."
Ava’s eyes widened in horror. "You wouldn’t dare."
Damon leaned back, smirking. "Try me."
Ava grabbed another pillow and hurled it at his face.
Damon caught it with ease. "Now, now, wifey—"
"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!"
Damon chuckled, shaking his head. "You better get ready, Carter. We have a family breakfast in thirty minutes."
Ava groaned. "Fantastic. Another round of pretending to be a happy married couple."
Damon stretched lazily. "Don’t worry, Carter. I’ll make sure to act extra loving just for you."
Ava glared. "If you so much as hold my hand, I will stab you with my fork."
Damon grinned. "Can’t wait."
---
Breakfast at the Sinclair Mansion
Sitting at the breakfast table with the Sinclair family was an experience.
Ava tried to act normal. She really did. But everything about this was weird.
For starters, the table was huge, covered with the fanciest breakfast spread she had ever seen.
Bacon. Waffles. Omelets. Freshly squeezed juice. There was even a personal chef waiting nearby, ready to take any request.
And yet, despite the lavish food, Ava could barely eat because of the two people sitting across from her.
Damon’s parents.
Mr. Sinclair was reading the morning newspaper like he was the President of the Universe, while Mrs. Sinclair sat beside him, sipping tea in a perfectly elegant manner.
Neither of them had said a word to her since she arrived.
The tension was unbearable.
Until Mrs. Sinclair finally spoke.
"Ava, dear, how was your first night with Damon?"
Ava almost choked on her juice.
Damon patted her back way too casually. "She loved it, Mom."
Ava kicked him under the table.
Damon didn’t even flinch.
Mrs. Sinclair smiled slightly. "That’s good to hear. I was hoping you two would start bonding quickly."
"Oh, we bonded alright," Ava muttered. "Right, honey?"
Damon smirked. "Of course, sweetheart."
Ava shot him a glare.
Mrs. Sinclair nodded approvingly. "Good. I expect you both to act like a proper married couple in public."
Ava’s fake smile twitched. Public?
"Which reminds me," Mr. Sinclair finally spoke, lowering his newspaper. His sharp gaze landed on Ava. "The charity gala is this Saturday. You will attend as a couple."
Ava blinked. "I—what?"
Mrs. Sinclair nodded. "It’s important that society sees you two as a happy, stable couple. Your presence is non-negotiable."
Ava opened her mouth to protest, but Damon cut in smoothly.
"Of course. We wouldn’t miss it," he said, giving Ava a knowing smirk.
Ava clenched her jaw. Oh, he was enjoying this.
---
After Breakfast – The Deal
Ava stormed back into their shared bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Damon strolled in casually, hands in his pockets. "Something wrong, dear wife?"
"Yes!" Ava spun around. "I am NOT going to some stupid fancy gala and pretending to be your loving, doting wife!"
Damon smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "You are my wife, Carter. Just accept it."
Ava scowled. "Not by choice!"
Damon tilted his head. "Did you forget the contract? One year of marriage, no scandals, act like a happy couple—"
"That contract sucks," Ava muttered.
Damon shrugged. "Doesn’t change the fact that you signed it."
Ava groaned, running her hands through her hair. "Ugh! Fine. I’ll go to your stupid event. But! I want something in return."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Ava crossed her arms. "I want my own room."
Damon chuckled. "Not happening."
"Why?!"
Damon smirked. "Because I like watching you suffer."
Ava threw a pillow at his face.
Damon caught it effortlessly, his smirk growing. "Try again, Carter."
Ava clenched her fists. Fine. He wants to play dirty?
She stepped forward, tilting her head innocently. "Okay, how about this?" She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice. "If I don’t get my own room… I will make your life a living nightmare."
Damon raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How?"
Ava grinned. "Oh, you know. Little things." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Replacing your shampoo with hair dye? Setting five different alarms at 3 AM? Oh! Or maybe ‘accidentally’ sending your embarrassing childhood photos to the entire school?"
Damon’s smirk faltered for the first time.
Ava leaned in closer, her voice a whisper. "I will make your life hell, Sinclair."
Damon stared at her for a moment, then chuckled. "You’re dangerous, Carter."
Ava smirked. "So? Do we have a deal?"
Damon exhaled, shaking his head. "Fine. You get your own room."
Ava fist-pumped. "YES!"
"But," Damon added, his smirk returning, "you’ll still have to pretend to be madly in love with me at the gala."
Ava groaned. "You are the worst."
Damon winked. "And you love it."
Ava threw another pillow at him.
Damon just laughed.
---
End of Chapter 4
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