Ava now sat stiffly at her rosewood desk, a whole tower of important documents piled neatly in front of her—the kind of tower that screamed Sign Me or Doom Will Follow. Shen's proposal was supposed to be the only thing clogging up her brain. One month of dating the kingdom's most annoying narcissist in exchange for a clean, discreet annulment? Simple. Strategic. Stressful, but manageable.
And yet…
All she could think about was Zachary Ford—the sulking embodiment of unresolved trauma—staring into her soul this morning with those annoyingly beautiful eyes and saying, "Later then…"
Ava flinched, violently scribbling a curl on the paper she was meant to sign.
"Ugh! What does that even mean? Later what? Later, he'll wash the dishes? Later, he'll burn this mansion down in a poetic rage? Later, he'll… kiss me again?!"
Her head hit the desk with a thunk.
Just as she was about to spiral deeper into her thoughts, a horrified gasp sliced through the air.
