Avery's Game Of Revenge
Chapter 179: Meat Of The Night

Chapter 179: Meat Of The Night

Avery sat there, her long brown hair still streaked with remnants of black strands, her eyes earnest, searching. Her lips were slightly swollen from his kisses, her nose still faintly red from earlier. From him.

And her outfit which almost forced a laugh out of his lips, because he knew the meaning behind them.

A cropped white blouse and denim shorts was a deliberate choice meaning a barrier; a message.

’No distractions until we talk. ’

If only she knew...

That he had no problem telling her his secrets. That what he wanted to know was if she heard everything, would she stay?

That, he wasn’t sure of. And that uncertainty was dangerous. So he would give her what she could handle. And withhold what would make her run.

Because losing her wasn’t an option.

Like he told her last night after he confessed he had been obsessed with her for three years, he’d rather she hated him. Loathed him. Spat in his face every time she saw him... as long as she never left. As long as she remained with him.

Archie unbuckled his belt, his slacks sliding down as he stepped forward, his gaze never leaving hers.

"I am ready to answer all," he said, his voice a low vow. "But be sure you’re ready to hear it."

Avery’s eyes locked onto him, her fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the sofa. "I’m sure," she said, her voice steady. "Ask away, you said. So... your wife." She exhaled sharply. "I thought she was dead, but you never confirmed it. What happened to her? And how could you have... feelings for me while you were still married to her? Isn’t that unfair to her?" She paused, "I know I said last night that I wasn’t ready to hear it all. I am now."

He didn’t reach for a shirt. He just pulled on a pair of shorts and stepped out in front of her, bare-chested, his tattoos—Ava’s and the pinch mark-fully visible. His expression was unreadable.

"There is no other woman," he said simply.

Avery blinked. "What?" Her voice was sharper now. "I mean Ava Donovan. Your wife."

"You’re her."

Silence.

Her lips parted, then pressed together again. "That’s... that’s impossible," she finally said, shaking her head. "How can I be Ava, and how can you be married to me? I never changed my name from Avery, and I never agreed to a marriage with you either. Especially a marriage that started three years ago."

Archie took his time before answering, his gaze never leaving hers. "What if I said that’s who you are in my head?"His voice was low, deliberate. "I call you Ava. And we are married. So, obviously, that brings about the name Ava, then my surname Donovan."

Her brows furrowed. "I’m getting confused here."

Archie raked a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "That’s how I was confused when I met you," he admitted. "You were eighteen. A child... in a sense. And I was twenty eight."His jaw tightened. "But you still captivated me. At first, I told myself I was just amused by how feisty you were. That was all. But then... I started hating it."

She stilled.

"I hated how you glowered at me every opportunity you got," he continued, his voice rougher now. "How you looked at me like I was someone disgusting. I fucking yearned for you to just... look at me like you looked at any other man. Even a stranger. Just so I could see what your eyes were like when they weren’t full of annoyance."

Her mouth fell open, "What—"

But he raised a hand, cutting her off. "I promised to answer your questions, and I will explain to the best of my ability. It’s up to you to understand me or not."

She bristled. "No... I wasn’t trying to—"

"When I first realized I hated how you reacted to me, and wanted to change it," he continued, overriding her, "I tried to figure out if I’d done something to deserve it... apart from taking your siblings away from you like you accused, so I could correct it. I got Arthur drunk and asked him. I took Emma to lunch and asked her. Neither of them had a clue." His lips twisted. "Finding myself at a dead end helped me call myself to my senses. I was twenty-eight. You were barely an adult. So I resolved to stay away. I made sure to only meet Arthur and Emma in places you wouldn’t be."

Avery swallowed.

"It worked," Archie said, his voice dropping. "For a while."

A beat. Then...

"Until the night you went to that fucking bar in the slums."

Avery exhaled sharply, fingers tightening in the sheets. "Yeah. That night." She hesitated, jaw working before forcing out the words. "It’s the night I really started hating you. For real. Because I saw you as a monster."

Archie shrugged, unbothered. "It was the night I first saw you as an angel too." A beat. "An angel with a touch of stupidity."

Her glare could have burned holes through steel. He stared back, unflinching.

"What? I wasn’t stupid then. I didn’t hate that you killed the ones who cornered me in that alley," she snapped. "I hated that you killed the security guard too—the one who went to get backup!"

Archie chuckled darkly. "Backup?" His lips curled. "Well... I guess it was backup in a way."

She stiffened. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Means nothing much." He tilted his head, watching her like she was a puzzle he’d already solved. "I went to that bar because my intel told me you’d been there too long without leaving. Wanted to see what someone like you was doing in a shithole like that." His voice dropped. "I was right outside when I saw the guy in the security uniform talking to a group of men. Asked if they wanted a taste of the ’meat of the night’."

Avery’s stomach twisted.

"Almost ignored it," he continued, "until one of them said, ’I saw her when she walked in—high-class and looking fucking delicious. We might never get another like her till we die. Let’s grab the others so everyone can enjoy.’" His knuckles whitened. "I followed them. Saw you. The rest was history."

Avery’s jaw dropped.

Whattheactualfuck?!

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