The wedding lasted eight minutes.

There were no flowers, no family, and no promises beyond the words written in black ink. Adrian’s assistant took photos for the press, then led Ava through a private elevator into the Cole penthouse.

Her new home had glass walls, white marble floors, and no sign that anyone actually lived there.

Adrian pointed down a hallway. “Your room is on the left. Mine is on the right.”

“That is romantic.”

“This is not romance.”

Ava dropped her bag beside the door. “Then you should stop looking at me like that.”

His gaze sharpened.

“Like what?”

“Like I am a problem you want to solve.”

For a moment, the cold CEO looked almost uncertain.

Then his phone rang, and the moment disappeared.