Chapter 3: Welcome to Hell, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair

Ava Carter had imagined many horrible ways her life could go.

But being married to Damon Sinclair?

Yeah, that topped the list.

---

The Sinclair Mansion

Ava stood in front of the grand Sinclair estate, staring up at the massive, intimidating mansion that looked straight out of a billionaire drama. The place was too big, too fancy, and way too ridiculous for one family.

Her suitcase sat beside her, untouched.

Lily had dropped her off and ran before Ava could even blink. Coward.

"Wow," she muttered, crossing her arms. "It’s even uglier in person."

"Careful, Carter," came a smooth voice from behind her. "You wouldn’t want to insult your new home."

Ava turned to see Damon stepping out of a sleek black car, his hands in his pockets, looking as annoyingly perfect as ever in his expensive suit. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and those sharp blue eyes of his held their usual mix of amusement and arrogance.

"New home? More like my personal prison." Ava rolled her eyes. "Do I get my own dungeon, or do I just sleep in the backyard?"

Damon smirked. "Tempting. But unfortunately, wifey, we have to share a room."

Ava froze. "What?"

Damon sighed dramatically. "Blame my parents. They want us to ‘bond’ as a real married couple."

"That’s insane!" Ava sputtered. "There are literally a hundred rooms in this stupid mansion. I refuse to share a room with you!"

Damon smirked. "Fine. Sleep outside."

Ava growled. "You are insufferable."

"And you’re stuck with me, Mrs. Sinclair."

Ava ignored the weird way her stomach flipped at hearing that name. Instead, she grabbed her suitcase and stormed past him.

Damon chuckled, following her inside.

Yeah.

This was going to be fun.

---

Their First Night as a ‘Married Couple’

Ava stared at the massive bedroom she was forced to share with Damon.

It was modern and sleek, with a king-sized bed in the center, black and gold accents, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the city.

The problem?

One bed.

Ava turned to Damon, who was already loosening his tie, acting like he owned the place.

"Listen up, Sinclair," she said, crossing her arms. "There is no way we are sleeping in the same bed."

Damon smirked. "Relax, Carter. I’m not desperate enough to touch you."

Ava scowled. "Good. Then you can sleep on the floor."

Damon laughed. "Me? Sleep on the floor?"

"Yeah. The gentlemanly thing to do."

Damon snorted. "Yeah, no. If anyone’s sleeping on the floor, it’s you."

Ava huffed, grabbing a pillow. "Fine. I’ll take the couch."

Damon smirked. "Good girl."

Ava glared at him before storming to the couch on the far side of the room. She curled up, hugging the pillow, trying to ignore the fact that she was technically in the same room as her worst enemy.

It was going to be a long night.

---

Meanwhile…

Damon lay in bed, one arm resting behind his head as he watched Ava shift uncomfortably on the couch.

"Having trouble, wifey?" he teased.

"Shut up, Sinclair," Ava muttered.

Damon chuckled. "You do realize you’re the first woman to ever reject sharing a bed with me?"

Ava snorted. "Yeah, well, congratulations. I’m also the first woman to not be impressed by your money, your face, or your stupid charm."

Damon smirked. "Stupid? I think you mean irresistible."

Ava threw a pillow at him. "Go to sleep, Damon!"

Damon just laughed, catching the pillow with ease.

Oh yeah.