RYAN'S POV
The Montenegro car pulls up to Lara's house. The driveway is wide and immaculate, with perfectly trimmed hedges lining the path.
I step out, adjusting my cufflinks, and let Thomas follow close behind. We're met immediately by the maid at the door - a woman probably in her fifties with a soft smile and eyes that carry years of patience.
"Good afternoon, sir," she says, nodding politely. "Mr. Montenegro, Mrs. Montenegro. Lara isn't home at the moment, but she should be back shortly. Please, make yourselves comfortable."
I nod, glancing toward the large living room. It's cozy, tastefully decorated, but I notice someone inside, moving quickly, almost hiding behind doors.
The maid ushers us to the living room, offering drinks and treats. Tea, freshly brewed, and small pastries arranged delicately on a silver tray.
My mum asks about Ava.
"Ava's getting ready upstairs," she explains. "She'll join you soon."
We wait. The minutes pass with polite conversation, my eyes wandering over the room.
Not too long after, the door bursts open, and Lara strides in - her posture impeccable, her presence commanding.
Beside her, a young girl walks cautiously, head slightly lowered, as if she wants to hide her face. Maybe unintentionally, maybe out of shyness. I can't tell. She disappears upstairs almost immediately.
Lara greets us warmly, making sure we are seated comfortably, her words laced with charm and authority.
Then she calls out sharply, "Ava!"
No answer.
Lara's frown deepens. She mutters under her breath and excuses herself as she moves upstairs to find her daughter.
Minutes later, she returns with a young woman in tow - whom I believe is Ava. She looks slightly hesitant, her hands clutching the edge of her blouse. There's something guarded about the way she holds herself, something that makes me wonder whether the confident, carefree image she projects is just a mask.
She's dressed in something simple but elegant, her beauty undeniable. She looks directly at us, her eyes curious, alert, but polite. She greets my mother and me with a slight bow, formal but not cold, and a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.
"Why don't you and I go outside for a talk?" Lara suggests to my mum, and I can see the subtle signal - they want us to get acquainted.
My mother and Lara move out, leaving Ava and me alone in the living room.
We sit in silence for a moment before Ava speaks, her voice light, almost dismissive.
"So... I know why you're here."
I don't respond right away, watching her carefully. She seems eager to make her point, but I wonder if she even knows what she wants.
She doesn't waste time. She speaks quickly, passionately, as if she's been holding back her thoughts for too long.
"I'm not interested in marriage yet," she continues, her words rushing out as if she's rehearsed them. "Modeling is my path. I want to focus on that. Marriage would just ruin everything. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment."
I feel a flicker of annoyance rise within me. This whole thing is starting to feel like a chore - like everyone is just following a script. A script I'm not interested in playing along with.
"And you know..." Ava trails off, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at her lips. "Luciana is my role model. Everyone knows about your relationship, so... if I ever wanted to get married, it definitely wouldn't be to you."
I don't respond immediately. My mind is racing. She's just like every other woman I've met in this world - obsessed with status, obsessed with appearances. I don't care about that. I never have.
"I don't even want to marry anyone, not now. I want to model, to build something of my own. Marriage would just ruin that. Completely." She says it again, as if she hadn't already.
Her words hit the mark, precise and confident. I listen quietly, studying her movements - the way her hands gesture while she talks, the energy she exudes.
My mind drifts for a moment, wondering why everyone these days obsesses over this modelling life, why careers are measured in appearances and social media clout. I have no interest in marrying her either, so all this chatter feels unnecessary.
My phone vibrates suddenly in my pocket. I glance at the screen - it's Luciana.
Ava, mid-sentence, freezes. Her voice dies immediately.
I press decline.
"Continue," I say to her gently.
She shakes her head. "No, you should take it."
"It's nothing," I reassure her. Then I lean back slightly, letting her words sink in. "I don't want to marry you either. And I have a plan."
Her brow furrows. "What plan?"
"You'll run away on the day of the wedding," I say simply.
Ava lets out a small laugh, but it's tight, anxious. "I'd get into so much trouble with my mother. And I'd ruin my modeling career before it even begins."
I smile faintly, understanding her logic. "I'll help you," I tell her. "I'll take care of everything. I'll elevate your career, give you opportunities no one else can. When you leave home, my friend Leo will pick you up and bring you to my private villa. You'll stay there while we arrange everything. Training, exposure, privileges, the works - everything you need to get to the top right from the beginning."
Her eyes widen, curiosity and a hint of excitement forming.
I pull out my phone and dial Leo immediately.
"Leo, I have someone I want you to elevate. Give her everything she needs. Every opportunity, every resource."
I end the call and glance at Ava.
Her expression has softened, the tension easing.
"I... I agree," she says quietly, almost in disbelief.
We return inside.
Lara and Sandra's faces light up the moment we step back into the living room. Their joy is palpable.
"You like each other?" Lara asks, almost bouncing on her heels.
"Yes," Ava replies firmly. "We... we agree to marry."
Lara and Sandra are over the moon, exchanging excited whispers, their laughter filling the room.