The 365 days wife

The tension from the locked door lingered in the air like an unspoken threat. Ava's heart pounded as she stood frozen in the dim hallway, her gaze locked on the heavy door Damien had just secured. The way he had spoken to her—so cold, so detached—had left a bitter taste in her mouth.

"Stop acting like a real wife."

The words echoed in her mind, cutting deeper than she cared to admit.

Ava inhaled sharply, willing herself to shake off the sting of his rejection. She wasn't supposed to care. This was all just an arrangement. A contract. And yet, every time Damien looked at her with those dark, unreadable eyes, something in her chest twisted.

She turned away from the locked door, forcing herself to move. She needed answers, but she also needed to be careful. Damien had already caught her once sneaking around—she wouldn't make that mistake again.

Not until she knew what she was looking for.

---

The Forbidden Room

Sleep eluded Ava that night. The mansion was eerily silent, but her mind was loud with unanswered questions.

Why had the housekeeper locked the door so quickly? Why did Damien react so strongly? And most importantly—what was behind it?

She tossed and turned, but the thoughts wouldn't leave her alone. By the time the clock struck two in the morning, she had made up her mind.

If Damien wanted to keep secrets, she would find out what they were.

Slipping out of bed, Ava wrapped herself in a robe and quietly stepped into the darkened hallway. The mansion was vast, but she had memorized the way back to the hidden door.

She moved cautiously, her bare feet silent against the cold floor. Every shadow felt like a pair of eyes watching her, but she pressed forward.

When she reached the door, her fingers traced the padlock. It was solid, heavy, impossible to break without a key.

Her stomach sank. She had been so focused on getting here that she hadn't thought this through.

"Think, Ava."

Her eyes scanned the hallway, her mind racing. If Damien had locked it, then he had the key. But would he really keep it on him all the time?

Ava frowned, a new idea forming in her mind.

If she couldn't break in, maybe she could find another way.

And there was only one place she could start looking—Damien's room.

---

A Risky Gamble

Ava had never stepped foot inside Damien's bedroom before. It wasn't just forbidden—it felt like enemy territory.

Her heart pounded as she crept toward his door, her fingers hesitating on the handle.

"This is insane."

She knew it was reckless. But she also knew she wouldn't be able to sleep until she got to the bottom of this.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and slipped inside.

The room was dark, illuminated only by the faint glow of moonlight streaming through the window. It was vast, cold, and impeccably neat—just like Damien himself.

Ava's eyes darted to the nightstand. If he had the key, that would be the most obvious place to keep it.

Carefully, she tiptoed across the floor and pulled open the drawer.

Empty.

Her brows furrowed.

She turned to the desk next, scanning for anything small enough to be a key. Her fingers skimmed over papers, a sleek pen, and a closed leather box.

Before she could open it—

"What exactly do you think you're doing?"

Ava gasped, her blood running cold.

She whirled around to find Damien standing in the doorway, his eyes burning with fury.

His shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his sleeves rolled up, and his dark hair slightly disheveled as if he had just woken up. But there was no sleep in his gaze—only cold, hard rage.

Ava's breath hitched. She had been so careful, so quiet. How had he caught her?

Damien took a slow step forward, his presence filling the room. "Answer me."

Ava swallowed hard. "I—I couldn't sleep."

He let out a low, humorless chuckle. "So your solution was to invade my privacy?"

She straightened her spine, trying to hold her ground. "You're hiding something, Damien. I just want to know the truth."

His jaw tightened, and in an instant, he was in front of her, his hand clamping around her wrist in a bruising grip.

"You don't get to ask questions," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "You don't get to cross lines."

Ava winced at the pressure on her wrist, but she refused to back down.

"What are you going to do?" she challenged.

His grip tightened. "You want to know what I do to people who betray me?"

Before she could react, Damien yanked her forward, dragging her toward the massive bed. He forced her down onto the mattress, towering over her like a predator watching his prey.

"Since you clearly don't understand your place, I'll make sure you never forget it."

Ava's pulse thundered in her ears as he reached for something on the nightstand.

Something cold. Something metallic.

A pair of handcuffs.

Her eyes widened in horror as he snapped one cuff around her wrist, then secured the other to the bedpost.

"D-Damien—!"

"You want to act like a disobedient wife? Fine. You'll be treated like one." His voice was a chilling whisper. "You're not leaving this bed until I decide you've learned your lesson."

Ava's breathing came in quick, uneven gasps. She yanked at the cuffs, but they didn't budge.

Damien sat down beside her, running a slow hand over her cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. "You belong to me, Ava. Your body, your choices, your freedom." His lips curled into a cruel smirk. "And right now, your punishment."

Ava's stomach twisted in dread.

He wasn't bluffing.

The realization sent a cold shiver down her spine.

But just when she thought things couldn't get worse—

A noise.

A faint creak, like a door opening.

Damien froze. His entire body went rigid, his head snapping toward the hallway.

Ava barely dared to breathe.

His grip on her tightened, but his eyes were locked on the doorway, his expression darkening.

Then, in the silence of the night, a voice—soft, barely above a whisper.

"Damien…?"

A woman's voice.

Ava's blood ran cold.

Who the hell was that?

And why did Damien look like he had just seen a ghost?