BEDDING THE DON

Chapter One:

Ava's Pov.

Growing up, I always believed I was destined for something extraordinary. My mother called it wishful thinking, but I called it ambition. As a little girl, I would twirl around the living room, pretending the worn-out carpet was a runway. By the time I turned sixteen, I was walking real ones-small-time fashion shows in my hometown, nothing grand, but enough to fuel the dream.

That dream carried me to New York City when I was twenty. My big break was just a matter of time, or so I thought. Three years later, I found myself staring at Gerald Masters, the CEO of the agency I had worked tirelessly for, as he threw my career in the trash.

"Gerald," I began, gripping the edge of the chair to keep my voice steady, "I've done everything you asked. I've worked every gig, followed every rule. Why am I not on the roster for next season?"

Gerald leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing at his lips. He was the kind of man who exudes power but lacked any trace of decency. "Ava, you're a beautiful girl, but you're not playing the game."

My stomach churned. "What game?"

He tilted his head, his smile widening. "The one where you stop pretending you're above a little give-and-take."

The weight of his implication hit me like a punch to the gut. "You're saying I should sleep with you?"

"Come on," he said, shrugging. "Don't act so shocked. You wouldn't be the first, and let's face it, your career could use the boost."

I stood up so quickly that my chair toppled over. "You're disgusting."

His smirk vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating look. "You're making a mistake, Ava. No one crosses me and comes out unscathed."

By the time I stormed out of the office, I knew he wasn't bluffing. Within hours, my name was blacklisted. No calls, no jobs, no explanations. My career, the one thing I'd sacrificed everything for was over.

When I got back to my apartment, the betrayal that awaited me made Gerald's sleaziness feel like a minor inconvenience.

"Jayden?" I called as I opened the door, my voice echoing through the small space.

The sound of laughter floated from the bedroom. I froze, my heart sinking. Slowly, I stepped into the hallway, the door to our room slightly ajar.

And there they were. Jayden, my boyfriend of three years, and Lila, my younger sister, tangled in the sheets of the bed we'd shared.

It felt like the ground had vanished beneath me. "What... What the hell is this?"

Jayden scrambled out of bed, his face pale. "Ava, listen, it's not what it looks like."

Lila sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. She wouldn't even meet my eyes.

"How long?" My voice was quiet, trembling.

"Ava-"

"How. Long?" I demanded, my fists clenched at my sides.

Lila finally spoke, her voice barely audible. "A year."

I stared at them, my vision blurring with unshed tears. A year. They'd been betraying me for an entire year, lying to my face while I clung to a relationship that had been dead for months.

"You're both pathetic," I whispered before turning and walking out.

I didn't bother packing much, just enough to fit into a small traveling bag. I couldn't stay here.

Las Vegas. The city of lights, excess, and second chances. It wasn't a plan, exactly. It was more like a desperate escape, a way to put as much distance as possible between myself and the life I was leaving behind.

The plane ride felt a little slow, my thoughts spinning as fast as the tiny drink cart wheels. By the time I checked into a dingy hotel on the outskirts of the Strip, exhaustion had settled into my bones.

That first night, I tried to sleep, but my mind wouldn't stop racing. Memories of Gerald's leering face, Jayden's panicked excuses, and Lila's guilty silence played on a loop.

When the walls of my room felt like they were closing in, I decided to go downstairs. The hotel bar wasn't much, soft lighting, sticky counters, and a bartender who looked like he'd seen it all. But it was open, and that was enough.

I slid onto a stool, ordered the cheapest drink on the menu, and tried to disappear into the background.

"Rough night?"

The voice startled me, deep and smooth with a hint of amusement. I turned to see the man sitting a few stools away.

He was striking, dark hair, sharp jawline, and eyes so green they seemed to glow in the soft light. He wasn't smiling, exactly, but there was something playful in his expression.

"You could say that," I replied cautiously.

He moved closer, his drink in hand. "Let me guess. You're not from around here."

"Is it that obvious?"

He shrugged. "You don't have the look of someone who's used to Vegas."

"And what look is that?"

"Desperation."

I laughed, the sound surprising even me. "I could say the same about you."

He tilted his head, intrigued. "You think I look desperate?"

"No," I admitted. "But you're here, alone, striking up conversations with strangers. That says something, doesn't it?"

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Touché. I'm Nico, by the way."

"Ava."

We spent the next hour talking, the conversation flowing with an ease I hadn't felt in years. I told him about my failed career, the betrayal that had driven me here, and the weight of starting over. He listened without judgment, his gaze steady and attentive. And when much drinks had settle in our system, we were goners.

When I finally asked about him, his answers were vague. Something about business, family expectations, and a life that felt more like a trap than a privilege.

"You ever feel like running away isn't enough?" he asked, his voice quiet.

"Every day," I admitted.

It was past midnight when Nico leaned closer, his emerald eyes locked onto mine. "Let's do something crazy."

"Like what?"

"Get married."

I blinked, sure I hadn't heard him right. "Excuse me?"

"Married," he repeated, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "You and me. One night, no strings, no regrets. What do you say?"

I should have laughed. I should have said no. But something about the way he looked at me, like he saw the cracks and didn't mind the mess, made me pause.

"Okay," I said, the word slipping out before I could second-guess it.

And just like that, my life took another sharp turn.

By the time we found an open chapel, I was giddy with laughter and cheap vodka. Nico was steady beside me, his arm around my waist as we exchanged slurred vows.

The officiant barely looked up from his paperwork as he pronounced us husband and wife. We signed the certificate, snapped a blurry photo, and stumbled back to Nico's hotel.

The rest of the night was filled with kisses, tangled sheets, and the kind of reckless passion that only exists in the haze of alcohol and adrenaline.

But when morning came, and I woke up to find Nico's arm draped over me, reality hit me like a freight train.

I had slept with this stranger.

Panicked, I slipped out of bed and gathered my things. Nico stirred but didn't wake as I scribbled a note and left it on the bedside table.

"Thanks for the adventure, but this was a mistake."

With that, I walked out the door, leaving my accidental husband behind.

Chapter Two

The train ride back to Baltimore was a fast and I had enough time to think about what had just happened during this weekend in Vegas.

My mind replayed every detail of the night in Vegas, the chapel, the vows, Nico's piercing green eyes as he said, "I do." It was all ridiculous, surreal. And yet, the gold band on my finger told me it wasn't a dream.

I didn't have the courage to take it off, though. Not yet.

When I reached my apartment building, it felt like stepping into a ghost town. Everything was too quiet, too still, the air heavy with the memories I wanted to escape. My hands trembled as I unlocked the door, half-expecting to see Jayden lounging on the couch with that stupid grin of his.

But of course, he wasn't there. I had kicked him out before leaving for Vegas, and judging by the dusty layer on the coffee table, he hadn't been back.

Good riddance.

Still, the emptiness gnawed at me as I dropped my bag and sat on the couch. The silence was suffocating. I turned on the TV, not caring what played, just needing to drown out the noise in my head.

I stared at the screen, but all I saw was Nico, his smirk, the way he looked at me like I was the only person in the room. How could I have let myself get swept up in something so reckless? I barely knew the man, and now I was married to him.

Married.

The word tasted foreign on my tongue. Stupid Ava, how can you accept to such a stupid idea in the first place. But wait a minute, it doesn't count since we didn't sign a document or something.

I reached for my phone, tempted to call someone, anyone, to talk about it. But who would I call? My sister, who'd been sleeping with my boyfriend? My parents, who hadn't supported my modeling career from the start?

No, I was on my own in this mess.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "What the hell have you done, Ava?"

The next two weeks were tough especially when you don't know what to do with your life. I threw myself into job applications, reaching out to contacts in Baltimore's modest fashion scene. But the blacklisting from New York had followed me, and rejection after rejection piled up.

Meanwhile, the ring stayed on my finger. I told myself I'd take it off eventually, but every time I tried, I hesitated. It wasn't sentimentality. It was guilt, maybe even shame.

One night, as I sat in bed scrolling through job listings, there was a knock at the door. It was almost midnight, far too late for visitors. My heart raced as I tiptoed to the peephole.

Nico.

I stepped back, my pulse hammering in my ears. How had he found me?

"Ava," he called, his voice calm but firm. "I know you're in there."

I bit my lip, debating whether to pretend I wasn't home. But Nico didn't seem like the type to give up easily.

Taking a deep breath, I unlocked the door and opened it just a crack.

He stood there, impossibly handsome in a tailored suit, holding a piece of paper in his hand. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes softened when they met mine.

"Hello, wife."

I flinched at the word. "What are you doing here?"

He held up the paper, a marriage certificate. "We need to talk."

Fuck I thought we didn't sign any document. I'm damned.

I let him in, though I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the way his presence filled the room, making it feel a little less empty.

Nico didn't sit down. He stood in the center of my living room, towering over the space like he owned it.

"You left without saying goodbye," he said, his tone more amused than accusatory.

I crossed my arms, trying to keep my voice steady. "I left a note."

"A note that said, 'Thanks for the adventure, but this was a mistake.'" He raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly closure, Ava."

I swallowed hard, avoiding his gaze. "It was Vegas. People do stupid things in Vegas all the time. I thought you'd understand."

He stepped closer, his green eyes locking onto mine. "What I understand is that we're married. Whether it was stupid or not, it's real."

Panic flared in my chest. "We can get an annulment. I'm sure it won't be hard."

Nico's jaw tightened. "No."

"No?" I repeated, incredulous. "What do you mean, no?"

"I mean we're not getting an annulment."

I stared at him, trying to process his words. "You can't be serious."

"I'm very serious," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "This marriage may have started as a mistake, but it doesn't have to end that way."

I laughed, the sound bitter. "Why would you want to stay married to a woman you barely know?"

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting mine again. "Because it works for both of us. You're running from something, Ava. I can see it. And I'm running, too, in my own way. This marriage gives us both a shield."

"A shield?" I echoed, confused.

"You want to get back at whoever hurt you," he said, his voice low and intense. "And I need to stop my family from meddling in my life. We can help each other."

I shook my head, the weight of his words sinking in. "This is insane. I don't even know who you really are."

"You will," he promised. "But first, you need to decide if you're willing to take this chance."

The air between us was heavy, charged with something I couldn't quite name. Nico's presence was overwhelming, his confidence almost intoxicating.

For the first time in weeks, I felt a spark of something other than despair-curiosity, maybe even hope.

"Fine," I said finally. "But this doesn't mean I trust you."

He smirked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a way that made my stomach flip. "Fair enough. Trust takes time."

Chapter Three

When I woke up the next morning, it hit me again, I was married. And worse, my new husband had somehow tracked me down and was now deeply entrenched in my life.

Nico had stayed on the couch that night, though it wasn't from lack of trying to convince me otherwise. I insisted he sleep there, and surprisingly, he agreed without much argument. Not that it made me feel any better. I didn't know how long he planned on staying, and frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.

The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds as I tiptoed out of my bedroom, half-hoping Nico had left in the night. No such luck.

He was there, stretched out on my too-small couch, looking entirely too comfortable for someone who barely fit on the cushions. His dark hair was mussed from sleep, and his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a hint of toned muscle. He looked almost... normal. Like a regular guy who had crashed at a friend's place after a late-night party.

Except he wasn't normal. And this wasn't a casual sleepover.

I cleared my throat, and his eyes flicked open instantly, sharp and alert. "Morning," he said, sitting up and running a hand through his hair.

"Morning," I replied, my voice flat. "Coffee?"

"Always."

I busied myself in the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to avoid looking at him. The truth was, Nico made me nervous. Not in the same way Jayden or Gerald had-their presence had always felt suffocating, like a trap I couldn't escape. Nico, on the other hand, exuded a different kind of intensity. He was dangerous, yes, but there was something else, something that made me feel alive in a way I hadn't in years.

And that terrified me.

When the coffee was ready, I handed him a mug and sat across from him at the tiny dining table.

"We need to talk," I said, cutting straight to the point.

He smirked, taking a slow sip. "About?"

"About whatever this is," I said, gesturing between us. "You can't just show up at my door and expect me to go along with... whatever plan you've cooked up."

Nico set his mug down, leaning forward slightly. "I'm not expecting you to do anything, Ava. I'm asking you to consider it. That's all."

"And what exactly am I supposed to be considering?"

"An arrangement," he said simply. "A partnership, if you will."

I raised an eyebrow. "A partnership?"

"Yes. You keep the ring on and play the part of my wife, and in return, you get my protection and anything else you need."

The word protection sent a chill down my spine. "Protection from what?"

Nico's expression darkened, his easy demeanor slipping for the first time. "You'd be surprised how many enemies you can make just by existing in my world. And now that you're tied to me..." He let the sentence hang in the air, his meaning clear.

I swallowed hard. "This is insane. I don't belong in your world, Nico. I don't even know what your world is."

He studied me for a long moment, his green eyes unreadable. "You will."

Before I could respond, there was a knock at the door.

I froze, my heart pounding. No one ever visited me unannounced-especially not at this hour. Nico, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered. He stood and moved toward the door with the kind of calm confidence that made it clear he was used to unexpected interruptions.

"Stay here," he said over his shoulder.

I watched as he opened the door just enough to see who was on the other side. His body tensed, blocking my view, and I could hear the low murmur of voices-his and someone else's.

After a moment, he stepped back and opened the door wider, allowing a tall, broad-shouldered man to enter. The newcomer had dark hair like Nico's, but his features were sharper, his expression harder.

"Lorenzo," Nico said, his voice tight.

Lorenzo. The name sent a ripple of unease through me. Even without knowing who he was, I could tell he wasn't someone you wanted to cross.

"Nico," Lorenzo replied, his tone equally strained. His eyes flicked to me, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. "So, this is the wife."

My cheeks flushed, and I forced myself to stand. "Ava," I said, extending a hand.

He ignored it, his gaze shifting back to Nico. "We need to talk. Now."

Nico's jaw tightened. "Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of her."

Lorenzo's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening further. "Fine. Word's out, Nico. The Russos know about her."

My stomach dropped. "The Russos?"

"Not now, Ava," Nico said quickly, turning back to his brother. "What do they know?"

"Enough to make her a target," Lorenzo said, his voice low. "You need to deal with this before it spirals out of control."

"I am dealing with it," Nico snapped.

Lorenzo scoffed. "By dragging her into your mess? You're putting her life at risk, Nico. You know that, right?"

"I'm protecting her," Nico shot back, his voice cold.

"Sure you are," Lorenzo said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He glanced at me one last time before heading for the door. "Good luck with that."

When he was gone, the tension in the room felt suffocating. I turned to Nico, my hands trembling. "What the hell is going on, Nico? Who are the Russos?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They're... a rival family. Let's just leave it at that."

"A rival family?" I repeated, my voice rising. "What does that even mean? And why would they care about me?"

"Because you're my wife," he said simply.

"That's not an answer!" I snapped, frustration boiling over. "I deserve to know what's going on. What aren't you telling me?"

Nico hesitated, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might actually tell me the truth. But then he shook his head.

"Not yet," he said quietly. "It's better if you don't know everything right now."

I stared at him, disbelief and anger swirling in my chest. "You can't keep me in the dark, Nico. This is my life we're talking about!"

"And I'm trying to keep you safe," he said, his voice firm.

"By dragging me into your world?"

"I didn't drag you anywhere," he said, his tone sharp. "You're the one who agreed to marry me, remember?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. He was right, in a way. I'd said "I do," even if it had been in a drunken haze.

But I hadn't agreed to any of this.

"I need some air," I said finally, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.

"Ava, wait..."

I ignored him, slamming the door behind me.

The cold air hit me like a slap to the face as I stepped onto the street. I didn't have a destination in mind,I just needed to get away.

I wandered for what felt like hours, the city streets blurring together in a haze of neon lights and endless noise. My mind raced with questions, fears, and doubts, all tangled together in a knot I couldn't untangle.

Who was Nico Moretti, really? What kind of life had I stumbled into? And, most importantly, how was I going to get out?

By the time I returned to the apartment, I was exhausted, my body aching from the cold. Nico was waiting for me, his expression unreadable.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice soft.

I nodded, too tired to argue.

He stepped closer, his gaze searching mine. "Ava, I know this isn't easy for you. But I need you to trust me."

I wanted to tell him I didn't trust him, that I couldn't. But the truth was, I wasn't sure I had a choice anymore.

"Just promise me one thing," I said quietly.

"Anything."

"Don't lie to me, Nico. If I'm going to stay in this... whatever this is, I need the truth."

He hesitated, his jaw tightening. "I promise."