The CEO's Reluctant Bride

Ava leaned against the window of Adrian's car, her gaze tracing the blur of passing streetlights. The city buzzed outside—a stark contrast to the silence between them. Her fingers twisted in her lap, betraying the calm she tried to maintain.

"You've been quiet," Adrian's voice broke through, smooth but edged with curiosity.

"Didn't realize I was obligated to entertain you," she shot back without looking at him.

He chuckled—low and warm. "You're entertaining without trying."

Her lips twitched, almost a smile. Almost.

The restaurant Adrian chose was tucked away—a place that didn't scream luxury but whispered it through understated elegance. Dim lighting, soft music, and an ambiance that invited conversation. Or awkward silence, apparently.

As they sat, Ava picked at the menu. "You know, you didn't have to drag me out. I was perfectly fine at home."

"You looked like you were overthinking your life choices," he replied. "Figured food was safer than letting you spiral."

Her brow arched. "You really have a way with words."

"It's a gift."

They ordered. Conversation dipped and rose in waves—banter slipping in between quieter moments. Adrian's gaze often lingered on her, unreadable. It unsettled her—the way he seemed to see past the layers she kept carefully constructed.

"You're difficult to figure out," she muttered, sipping her wine.

"That's mutual," he returned, gaze sharp but... softer than she expected.

Halfway through dinner, her phone buzzed. She ignored it. Not now. Not when things felt almost normal—dangerously close to enjoyable.

"Work?" Adrian asked, glancing at the screen lighting up again.

"Probably Mia being nosy," she deflected.

But when it buzzed a third time, she sighed and checked. Not Mia. Board meeting tomorrow—be prepared for pushback. Her stomach twisted. Her company—the reason she'd signed that ridiculous contract—was still a battlefield.

Adrian noticed the shift in her expression. "What is it?"

"Nothing that concerns you," she said, a touch too quick.

He leaned back, studying her. "If it affects you, it concerns me."

She blinked. The sincerity in his tone caught her off guard. This was supposed to be transactional—clean lines and clear boundaries. But those lines blurred with every conversation, every glance that lingered a second too long.

After dinner, they walked to the car. The night air was cool, a breeze catching Ava's hair. She tucked a strand behind her ear, aware of Adrian's gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked.

"Trying to figure you out," he echoed her earlier words.

"Good luck," she muttered. "Even I can't do that sometimes."

In the car, the silence wasn't uncomfortable—just... there. Breathing between them.

As they neared her place, Ava hesitated. Part of her wanted to ask him to stay. For what? Company? Distraction? She shook the thought away.

"Thanks for dinner," she said, unbuckling her seatbelt.

His hand shot out, gently catching her wrist. "Ava."

Her heart skipped. "What?"

"Stop carrying everything alone," he murmured. "You married me for help—so let me."

Her walls—so carefully built—cracked a little. Not enough to crumble. But enough to let something warm seep through.

"I'll think about it," she whispered.