The night was freezing resulting from the rain that had violently poured earlier. Ava lay flat on the bed in the room that was allocated to her. It was same size with her room back home—only, this wasn’t home. It felt colder. No warmth.

She was still reeling from the revelation that Vincent had another wife. Why then had he agreed to marry her? She had a lot of questions, but sadly, there were no answers. All she had to do was wait until morning and ask Vincent every thought gnawing at the back of her mind. She shut her eyes to sleep when she heard the sound of fists rapping at her door. Her eyes flew open.

She stood up and rushed to the door, opening it. It was Charlotte, her cold brown eyes piercing down on Ava. She stood tall, shoulders back, exuding confidence and pride.

Ava gave her a once over. The fact that she looked like this woman was still daunting.

“Avaia Curtis,” Charlotte rolled the name out of her lips, sizing Ava with her eyes, as though she were beneath her.

Ava locked eyes with her, refusing to be intimidated. “Charlotte Wolfe.”

“You catch up quick,” Charlotte responded, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. “I’ll be brief. Breakfast is by 7, and my husband doesn’t tolerate lateness of any kind.”

Ava noted the way she had said—my husband, but decided to overlook it. She had no intentions of picking a fight with her. He was, indeed, her husband.

“Thank you.”

Charlotte continued to size Ava up before walking away without another word. Ava herself entered her room, shutting the door behind her.

Navigating Wolfe’s Mansion the next morning was quite easier than she had expected due to servants sprawled around, each one carrying out their morning duties. All she had to do was ask the direction of the dining room and she was escorted there. The room was nothing short of magnificent, with a large center table that could seat thirty people. Yet, only Vincent and Charlotte were present, discussing. As soon as Ava entered, their conversation came to a halt.

“Good morning,” Ava greeted, settling in a chair not too far from the couple. Food was served already and her stomach grumbled.

“Did you sleep well?” Vincent plastered a small smile on his lips and Ava nodded to his question.

Vincent held Charlotte’s hand in his warmly, showing affection right in front of Ava. She ate silently, ignoring the fair share of affection taking place between her supposed husband and his first wife. Ava cared less whether they even smooched in her presence, her goal was to survive one year as his contractual wife—and of course, bear a child. That clause still confused her. Why was she supposed to bear a child?

After breakfast, Vincent was the first to leave the dining room after placing a kiss on Charlotte’s cheek. He ignored Ava and walked out. She quickly dabbed her lips with a napkin and excused herself, running after him. She had questions—ones he needed to answer.

Reaching the hallway, she saw his back disappear into another hallway and she ran faster. When she was close enough, she gripped his suit from behind and he turned, raising a perfectly arched brow.

“Avaia,” It was more of him questioning why she had followed him. He cocked his head. “Is there an issue?”

“Yes, Vincent,” Ava responded, without hesitation. “I have questions and I need answers.”

Vincent’s lips tugged up in a small smile. He glanced at the wristwatch, taking note of the time. “I can spare ten minutes. Ask.”

“Why did you need another wife?” Ava asked, crossing her arms on her chest. “I mean, why me?”

“Maybe you should ask your father who wanted an alliance so badly,” Vincent retorted, his expression solemn. “About the child clause, we can scrap that if you aren’t okay with it.”

Ava eyed him warily. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Charlotte doesn’t like the idea of you having my child,” Vincent replied, taking another look at the time from his wristwatch. “You see, she doesn’t have a male child. Just two girls who are out of the country right now. I wanted a son that would take over my business. But what’s the guarantee that even you would get me one?”

He paused before continuing.

“I’ll try with her once more. Hopefully, she births a son this time.”

Ava didn’t know why, but his explanation didn’t sit right with her. She couldn’t explain, but her instincts told her—something was fishy. His expression remained blank, revealing nothing. Yet, she couldn’t shake off the sick feeling she had about the whole situation.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Ava asked, locking eyes with him.

“The details were in the contract. If there’s anything else, I’ll inform you myself.”

After the conversation in the hallway, Ava returned to her room. Just one year, and after that, she would be out of the mansion. How would Calia react knowing that she was literally married to the same man that had sullied her? She didn’t want her to find out anyway. At least, not now. Also, if he already had a wife, why sleeping around? Not like it was her concern though. It was his life to live.

Fists rapped at her door, and instantly, a feeling of Déjà vu crept in. She sat up wondering if she had heard wrong. For the next few seconds, a heavy silence followed. She sighed and was about to lay down when she heard the sound again.

Now she was sure.

Someone was at the door. Knocking.

Was it Charlotte again?

Ava dragged her feet to the door and clicked it open. It was indeed Charlotte, her left hand holding tightly a glass of milk. Had she come to offer her milk? But it was the look on Charlotte’s face that unsettled her. Her eyes were dull and lifeless, holding no warmth. Ava straightened her shoulder.

“Cha-”

“Avaia Curtis,” Charlotte’s smooth voice beat her to it, cutting her speech. A small smile graced her lips. She raised the hand holding the milk and Ava’s eyes took sight of the wedding band on her fourth finger. “I wear a wedding ring. Vincent Wolfe is my husband.”

“I do know that,” Ava frowned wondering what she was trying to get at.

Charlotte raised a brow. “Then what were you thinking running after him when breakfast was over like a desperate little thing?”

Huh…? Ava blinked.

“Am I not allowed to speak to him?” She shot back, half pissed. Charlotte’s eyes widened in astonishment. “I had some questions to—”

Charlotte raised her hand pouring the contents of the glass cup on Ava’s hair. The thick milk dripped slowly from her scalp, down to her neck. Ava’s eyes bulged, shock draining the color from her face. Charlotte shifted back, admiring the art and she gave a satisfied smile.

“There,” she sighed. “Consider this a warning. Stay away from Vincent, or I’ll ruin you.”

Ava’s jaw dropped, the cold milk trailing down her skin. Her breath hitched. Was she serious now? A lump formed in her throat, not from pain—but rage. What was this? She wasn’t a doormat that anyone could walk on. In a flash move, she wrapped her fingers around Charlotte’s neck squeezing it harshly leaving Charlotte gasping for air. Charlotte flailed her hands trying to free herself from Ava’s tight hold on her neck.

“Avaia!”

Ava froze on hearing Vincent’s voice. Her hands dropped from Charlotte’s neck immediately. Vincent was at the end of the hallway, fuming mad.

Oh no.