Ava had expected tension, after all, entering a contract marriage with a man like Damian Blackwood wasn't something that happened every day. But as she stepped into the grand dining hall of Blackwood Manor that morning, the air itself seemed charged with something else entirely. It wasn't just tension. It was unease.
The estate staff moved about in a practiced silence, their expressions guarded. The butler, an older man with graying hair and a sharp suit, barely met her gaze as he gestured for her to take a seat at the long mahogany dining table.
"Mrs. Blackwood," he greeted her with a careful bow of his head. The title made Ava tense. She hadn't even signed her new name on paper yet, and it already felt foreign.
"Please, just Ava."
The butler nodded but didn't correct himself. Instead, he stepped aside, allowing a younger maid to pour her coffee. The girl's hands trembled slightly and when Ava glanced up at her, she quickly averted her gaze, murmuring, "Good morning, Miss."
Ava frowned. "Good morning…?"
The girl hesitated, her knuckles turning white around the coffee pot. "Emily, Miss."
Ava offered a small smile, hoping to ease whatever nerves the girl had, but Emily simply dipped into a quick curtsy before retreating toward the kitchen like she was walking on needles.
Weird, but there was hardly a thing about the estate that wasn't. Her thoughts went to her first night, when she thought she had heard Damien groan before she quickly shook it off her mind.
Ava turned her attention back to the butler, who remained standing by the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back. "Do they always seem this… on edge?"
She saw the butler's jaw tensed, but he maintained his composed demeanor, probably born from years of practice. "The staff are simply respectful, Miss Sinclair. Mr. Blackwood values discretion above all else."
Discretion, right. Because there were secrets in this house, and everyone was expected to keep them buried.
Ava took a sip of her coffee, gathering her thoughts. "And his family? Will I be meeting them anytime soon?"
The butler stiffened. It was slight, almost imperceptible but Ava caught it. "Mr. Blackwood does not have a family."
She frowned. "None at all?"
"None that he acknowledges."
Ava set her cup down. That was a curious choice of words.
She wanted to press further, but before she could, Damian entered the dining hall. His presence, as always, was overwhelming. He was dressed in a dark button up and slacks, looking every bit the untouchable billionaire, but his expression was unreadable as usual.
"Settling in?" he asked as he approached.
Ava tilted her head. "Your staff act like I'm a ghost. Should I be worried?"
Damian glanced toward the butler, then back at her, his lips curving in something that wasn't quite a smile. "They're just cautious. It's… difficult to work here if you're easily rattled."
That only raised more questions. "Rattled by what, exactly?"
"Time might tell." He took a seat across from her, as if that vague answer was enough. Ava wasn't sure whether to feel intrigued or irritated. She felt the latter though.
Instead of pushing, she let the conversation drift to practical matters. The upcoming events they would need to attend as a married couple. The media appearances. The expectations of this arrangement. Damian responded with his usual calm efficiency, but Ava could sense the walls around him, high, thick and impenetrable. But what lay behind them? Ava found herself feeling more curious than she would like to admit.
As the meal ended and Damian left to handle business, Ava remained in her seat, staring into her untouched toast. The weight of Blackwood Manor settled around her like a second skin, whispering that this was only the beginning.
And whatever secrets lingered in this house, they might find her soon enough.
~~~~~~~
The atmosphere in the estate remained heavy with silence, and Ava couldn't decide if it was the stillness of wealth or the kind born from secrets. The longer she spent in the Blackwood mansion, the more she noticed things that didn't sit right with her.
Like the way the staff seemed to scatter when Damian entered a room. How their smiles faltered when they spoke of him, voices lowering, as if the walls had ears. How they never made eye contact with him unless addressed directly. This wasn't just respect, it was fear.
Breakfast every morning had been a quiet affair. Ava had eaten alone in the solarium, if she could call it eating. She'd picked at her toast and stared out at the misty gardens, her appetite suppressed by a growing unease. She hadn't seen Damian for days since she moved in.
When she asked Emily about it, the housekeeper gave her a tight lipped smile. "Mr. Blackwood keeps a strict schedule. He works in his private wing most days."
Private wing. Of course, it made sense that he had a wing.
It wasn't until late afternoon that he finally appeared.
Ava was curled up on a leather armchair in the library, flipping through stacks of books trying to find one of interest when she felt a presence in the room. She looked up and there he was, looming in the doorway in another one of those tailored dark suits, as if he'd been sculpted straight from shadows.
"We have a charity gala tomorrow evening by eight." He said without preamble.
Ava blinked, her fingers frozen on the book in her hands. "You're telling me this now?"
"I'm telling you in time. The media will be there. It will serve as our first public appearance as husband and wife. You have just enough time to prepare."
The word wife still sounded strange to her, especially when she was his wife.
"Oh I definitely forgot that we are a couple." She muttered, sarcasm laced in her tone. "I will need a dress."
"Emily will accompany you. Get whatever it is you would need. They'll ask questions. And we can't afford cracks in the illusion."
Ava tilted her head. "Is that what this is to you? An illusion?"
"Is this something else Ava?" He asked, his gaze penetrating through her.
Ava didn't bother holding his guess. "It is an allusion." She said. It couldn't be any more than that.
~~~~~~~
Shopping with Emily was surprisingly enjoyable. The housekeeper might have been reserved in the mansion, but in the chaos of designer boutiques, she came alive. Ava appreciated her sharp eye for detail and brutally honest opinions.
They scoured the high end fashion houses across the city, Ava slipping in and out of dresses like paper dolls trying on new identities. But none of them felt like her that was until she saw it.
A flared black velvet gown with a plunging neckline, long sleeves, and an open back that dipped low enough to feel scandalous. It was classic and daring all at once. The moment she stepped out of the dressing room, Emily gave a low whistle.
"He won't know what hit him," she said.
Ava arched a brow. "That's not the goal."
Emily had just smiled knowingly.
On the evening of the event, Ava took her time getting ready. Her dress fit like it had been made for her. She swept her golden brown hair up into a soft chignon, leaving a few strands to frame her face, and painted her lips a deep crimson. Her heels clicked confidently on the marble floors as she descended the grand staircase.
Damian was waiting in the foyer.
He looked up, and for a split second, something shifted in his gaze. Something unguarded. He didn't speak, but his eyes lingered.
"Well?" she asked, lifting her chin.
"You'll do," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "Try not to sound too impressed."
They stepped into the sleek black car that waited outside. As it pulled away from the estate, Ava glanced back at the looming mansion behind them. It was stunning, yes. But there was something lonely about it. Something unfinished.
As they sat quietly in the car, Ava watched Damien from the corner of her eyes. He had two of his top bottom undone and his hand reached to undo another. His head was against the headrest, his eyes closed and his expression livid. Ava hadn't really appreciated the beauty beside her but she had always known he was good looking. His disheveled dark hair that looked like it had been combed through with his fingers, his sharp jawline, the clean cut of his beard, his perfectly curved face. He could like a handsome villain from a Greek novel. Ava wasn't bad looking herself, she was quite a beauty but she was instantly over shadowed in front of this man and she knew it.
"You don't have to be discreet about watching me you know." He opened his eyes to look at her, a smile spreading across his lips. "I'm your husband after all."
Ava cough, choking as she turned away like a child who had been caught stealing.
"I wasn't staring." She said after she had recovered.
"But you can if you want." Damien teased.
Ava felt her ears burn. "You live in that estate alone?" She asked suddenly, taking the attention from her.
Damian looked out the window, the smile disappearing. "I didn't always."
"Your family?"
"Gone. Most of them dead. The rest… estranged."
She glanced at him, startled by the bluntness. "That doesn't bother you?"
He turned his head slowly. "If you grew up in the Blackwood family, you learned early not to get too attached."
There was a finality in his tone that made her drop the subject.
Their silence was thick but not uncomfortable. As the city lights blurred past the tinted windows, Ava found herself gripping her clutch tighter.
This was it, their first appearance. As husband and wife, it didn't feel right.
The car pulled up to a grand building with marble steps and a glowing chandelier visible through the glass doors. Cameramen and journalists loitered at the entrance, flashbulbs popping as other guests arrived in gowns and tuxedos.
Ava inhaled deeply.
Damian stepped out first, walking to her side and offering his hand.
"Ready?"
She placed her hand in his.
She nodded. "We'll have to do this even if I'm not." she said.
And with that, they ascended the steps into the spotlight.