The Drive
The car hummed along the road, but the silence inside was deafening. I glanced at Emilia, seated beside me, her gaze fixed straight ahead. Her fingers deftly twirled a small, triangular piece of metal, the motion so fluid and practiced it was mesmerizing. For a child her age, the skill was impressive. Unsettling, even. I cleared my throat, trying to catch her attention. But Emilia remained lost in her own world, the metal dancing between her fingers without missing a beat. I swallowed, a part of me wanting to leave her be. The silence was fine, I told myself. No childish questions, just blessed quiet. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. This Emilia was a far cry from the bubbly girl I'd met at the house. The way she stared ahead, so intense and knowing... it was almost as if she was aware of something I couldn't see. "So, Emilia," I ventured, attempting to break the ice. "How's school going? You like your teachers? Your classmates?" Her responses were clipped, monosyllabic. I fought back a sigh, wracking my brain for something, anything, to draw her out. "What about boys?" I asked, forcing a conspiratorial grin. "Any cute ones caught your eye? What's the boy situation in your grade?" Emilia's head snapped towards me, her eyes narrowing. The frown on her face made my stomach twist. "I'm nine," she said, her voice flat. She turned away, her disapproval palpable. I slumped back in my seat, exhaling heavily. "Hey, I was just trying to help," I grumbled, the words slipping out before I could stop them. Emilia rounded on me, her gaze searing. "Help? I'm a child. What did you think this was?" I shrugged, discomfort prickling under my skin. "I don't know. Bonding, I guess? Isn't that what this is supposed to look like?" A sneer curled Emilia's lips, the expression so jarring, so out of place on her young face that a chill raced down my spine. For a moment, I was reminded of Pennywise, that demented clown from the movie. "You can't be with my mom," Emilia said, her voice cold and certain. "I still have a father. He's coming back." My eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion. "Emilia, I think you've got it wrong. Your mom and I, we're just—" "I don't care!" she screamed, the sudden volume making me flinch. "My father is better than you, a better man than you. My mom and my daddy love each other. Mommy and I are still waiting for him to come home. You can't just show up and ruin all that!" I stared at her, words failing me. These were a child's words, but why did they cut so deep? Her eyes blazed with defiance, her small body tense with anger. She hated me. That much was clear. Had all her previous friendliness been an act? "Emilia, I promise, I'm not trying to do anything or come between anyone," I said, my voice soft. "It's just work. Your mom is a partner..." I hesitated, the word burning on my tongue. "A work partner," I added lamely. The words tasted bitter on my tongue, the distinction feeling flimsy even to my own ears. "My school's just a few blocks from here," Emilia said, turning away. The metal was back between her fingers, twirling, twirling. I swallowed hard, unease churning in my gut. How was it possible that this little girl could rattle me so badly? I snuck glances at her as I drove, taking in her profile. She didn't resemble Ava much, I realized. Which meant she must take after her father. The father she clearly believed was still alive, still coming back. Jesus, Ava. What the hell did you do? We pulled up to Emilia's school, a sprawling campus with manicured lawns and laughing children. Parents hugged and kissed their little ones before sending them through the gates. It was all so normal, so ordinary. Emilia hopped out without a backward glance, melting into the crowd of students. As she walked towards the gate, she transformed. Suddenly, she was just another child – small, innocent. It was hard to reconcile this image with the intense, almost adult-like girl from moments ago. A teacher greeted her at the gate, and then she was gone, swallowed up by the bustling school yard. I slumped in my seat, exhaling heavily. "That was intense," I muttered to the empty car. Massaging my temples, I closed my eyes for a moment. The buzz of my phone jolted me back to awareness. Vivian's name flashed on the screen. I stared at it for a while, then With a sigh, I sent the call to voicemail. Time to head home, I thought. This morning had already been more than I bargained for. ***Ava.The house felt too quiet once Alex and Emilia left. I leaned against the kitchen counter, coffee cup in hand, trying to ignore the pounding in my temples. This was not how I'd planned to start my day—hungover, exhausted, and now with Alex Russo driving my daughter to school. The fake engagement was spiraling out of control faster than I could manage."Ms. Ava, would you like me to prepare something for lunch later?" Rosa asked, appearing in the doorway with an armful of freshly folded laundry."No thanks, Rosa. I'll probably be stuck in my office all day." I forced a smile, my voice rough from last night's excesses. "I've got a PR nightmare to manage."Rosa's expression remained neutral, but I caught a flicker of something—concern, maybe—in her eyes. "I saw the photos. On the news."I winced. Of course she had. Everyone probably had by now—the kiss on the balcony, Alex's hands on my bare ass, my fingers tangled in his hair. "It's not what it looks like," I said automatically, the
AvaAfter hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion washing over me. The headache was getting worse, and I still had hours of damage control ahead of me.My gaze drifted to the family photo on my desk—me, James, and Emilia on her fourth birthday, just months before the accident. We looked so happy, so complete. Would we ever feel that way again? Could Emilia and I ever be whole without him?The thought of Alex Russo—arrogant, infuriating Alex—being involved in my daughter's life seemed absurd. And yet, he'd volunteered to drive her to school, bought her thoughtful gifts...I picked up the book he'd left for Emilia—a signed first edition of "Starstruck." How had he known she wanted it? The puzzle too—it was exactly the kind of complex challenge she loved. It showed an attention to detail, a consideration I wouldn't have expected from him.My phone buzzed with another text message. This time from Alex: Emilia safely delivered to school. She might have mentioned I ask "stupid que
AvaThe drive home was a blur full of worry and frustration. By the time I pulled into my driveway, Rosa's car was already there. I found them in the kitchen, Emilia hunched over a bowl of ice cream, her school uniform rumpled, eyes puffy from crying."Hey, peanut," I said softly, setting down my bag. "Rough day?"Emilia shrugged, not looking up. "They were asking about him.""Who?""Alex," she said, stabbing at her ice cream. "Madison saw the pictures on her mom's phone. You kissing him. She told everyone you're getting married. They all wanted to know if he's my new dad."My heart sank. "Oh, baby." I pulled her into my arms, her small body shaking with fresh tears. "I'm so sorry. That wasn't fair of
Alex."So, gentlemen, that concludes our quarterly overview." I closed the presentation with a decisive click, surveying the boardroom. The usual suspects stared back at me – old money in expensive suits, their expressions ranging from boredom to barely concealed curiosity. I knew what they were waiting for, and it wasn't my thoughts on our Asian market expansion."Any questions?" I asked, deliberately casual.Harold Kensington, a relic from my father's era, cleared his throat. "Just one, Alex. This... engagement to Ava Silver. Is it wise?"I kept my expression neutral, though my jaw tightened. "In what way, Harold?""Strategically speaking." He adjusted his glasses, giving him time to choose his words. "Silver Innovations directly competes with us in three key markets. The board is concerned about potential conflicts of interest.""A competitor turned partner," I corrected smoothly. "Our collaboration on the clean energy initiative has already increased projected valuations by eighte
Alex.With a sigh, I answered. "Vivian.""Finally," her voice was tight, controlled. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen off the face of the earth.""I've been busy.""Too busy to explain those photos?" The hurt beneath her anger was palpable, even through the phone. "You told me it was just business, Alex. That kiss didn't look like business."I winced, knowing exactly which photos she meant. The balcony. Ava pressed against me, my hands on her body. It had looked real because in that moment, it had been."Vivian—""Don't 'Vivian' me," she cut in. "I believed you when you said this engagement was fake. I agreed to be patient. But what I saw in those photos wasn't acting, Alex.""It was for the cameras," I said, aware of how hollow the excuse sounded. "The media was watching. We had to make it convincing.""That convincing?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Your tongue was down her throat, Alex. Your hands were all over her. You never touch me like that in public."I closed my eyes, sh
AlexA soft knock at my door interrupted my thoughts. My assistant poked her head in. "Your sister is here to see you."Before I could respond, Claire burst into my office, a whirlwind of energy and expensive perfume."Well, if it isn't the man of the hour," she announced, dropping dramatically into the chair across from me. "Engaged! To Ava Silver, no less. You certainly know how to keep things interesting, big brother."I couldn't help smiling at my sister's theatrical entrance. Four years younger and infinitely more sociable than me, Claire had always been the family charmer."It's not what you think," I started.She held up a perfectly manicured hand. "Save it. Mother already called me ranting abou
AlexI turned to my computer, trying to focus on work, but my mind kept drifting. I found myself typing Ava's name into a search engine, scanning recent articles about her. Most focused on our engagement, but some highlighted her business achievements, her journey as a young widow raising a child while running a tech empire.One photo caught my eye—Ava at what appeared to be a school function, crouched down to Emilia's level, both of them laughing. There was such joy in their expressions, such genuine connection. It made something in my chest ache with a longing I couldn't quite identify.I closed the browser quickly, unsettled by my own reaction. This was getting too personal, too complicated. I needed to refocus, to remember why we'd started this charade in the first place.Business.
Ava. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans enveloped me as I pushed open the heavy glass door of Café Noir. At least, I think that's what I smelled. My senses were a bit dull that morning, probably from the three—or was it four?—international video calls I'd fielded before most people had even hit snooze. Being CEO of a multinational corporation meant my day started when normal people were still dreaming. Not that I'm complaining. I loved my job. Most days. "The usual, Ava?" Sarah, the barista, called over the hiss of the espresso machine. I nodded, fumbling for my wallet. "Please. And maybe an extra shot today?" Sarah laughed. "Rough morning already?" "You have no idea," I muttered, though to be honest, I wasn't entirely sure how my morning had gone. It was all a blur of spreadsheets and shareholder expectations. As I waited for my latte, I leaned against the cool marble countertop, idly scrolling through my phone. The café buzzed with the usual morning crowd – a mix of busin
AlexI turned to my computer, trying to focus on work, but my mind kept drifting. I found myself typing Ava's name into a search engine, scanning recent articles about her. Most focused on our engagement, but some highlighted her business achievements, her journey as a young widow raising a child while running a tech empire.One photo caught my eye—Ava at what appeared to be a school function, crouched down to Emilia's level, both of them laughing. There was such joy in their expressions, such genuine connection. It made something in my chest ache with a longing I couldn't quite identify.I closed the browser quickly, unsettled by my own reaction. This was getting too personal, too complicated. I needed to refocus, to remember why we'd started this charade in the first place.Business.
AlexA soft knock at my door interrupted my thoughts. My assistant poked her head in. "Your sister is here to see you."Before I could respond, Claire burst into my office, a whirlwind of energy and expensive perfume."Well, if it isn't the man of the hour," she announced, dropping dramatically into the chair across from me. "Engaged! To Ava Silver, no less. You certainly know how to keep things interesting, big brother."I couldn't help smiling at my sister's theatrical entrance. Four years younger and infinitely more sociable than me, Claire had always been the family charmer."It's not what you think," I started.She held up a perfectly manicured hand. "Save it. Mother already called me ranting abou
Alex.With a sigh, I answered. "Vivian.""Finally," her voice was tight, controlled. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen off the face of the earth.""I've been busy.""Too busy to explain those photos?" The hurt beneath her anger was palpable, even through the phone. "You told me it was just business, Alex. That kiss didn't look like business."I winced, knowing exactly which photos she meant. The balcony. Ava pressed against me, my hands on her body. It had looked real because in that moment, it had been."Vivian—""Don't 'Vivian' me," she cut in. "I believed you when you said this engagement was fake. I agreed to be patient. But what I saw in those photos wasn't acting, Alex.""It was for the cameras," I said, aware of how hollow the excuse sounded. "The media was watching. We had to make it convincing.""That convincing?" Her voice cracked slightly. "Your tongue was down her throat, Alex. Your hands were all over her. You never touch me like that in public."I closed my eyes, sh
Alex."So, gentlemen, that concludes our quarterly overview." I closed the presentation with a decisive click, surveying the boardroom. The usual suspects stared back at me – old money in expensive suits, their expressions ranging from boredom to barely concealed curiosity. I knew what they were waiting for, and it wasn't my thoughts on our Asian market expansion."Any questions?" I asked, deliberately casual.Harold Kensington, a relic from my father's era, cleared his throat. "Just one, Alex. This... engagement to Ava Silver. Is it wise?"I kept my expression neutral, though my jaw tightened. "In what way, Harold?""Strategically speaking." He adjusted his glasses, giving him time to choose his words. "Silver Innovations directly competes with us in three key markets. The board is concerned about potential conflicts of interest.""A competitor turned partner," I corrected smoothly. "Our collaboration on the clean energy initiative has already increased projected valuations by eighte
AvaThe drive home was a blur full of worry and frustration. By the time I pulled into my driveway, Rosa's car was already there. I found them in the kitchen, Emilia hunched over a bowl of ice cream, her school uniform rumpled, eyes puffy from crying."Hey, peanut," I said softly, setting down my bag. "Rough day?"Emilia shrugged, not looking up. "They were asking about him.""Who?""Alex," she said, stabbing at her ice cream. "Madison saw the pictures on her mom's phone. You kissing him. She told everyone you're getting married. They all wanted to know if he's my new dad."My heart sank. "Oh, baby." I pulled her into my arms, her small body shaking with fresh tears. "I'm so sorry. That wasn't fair of
AvaAfter hanging up, I leaned back in my chair, exhaustion washing over me. The headache was getting worse, and I still had hours of damage control ahead of me.My gaze drifted to the family photo on my desk—me, James, and Emilia on her fourth birthday, just months before the accident. We looked so happy, so complete. Would we ever feel that way again? Could Emilia and I ever be whole without him?The thought of Alex Russo—arrogant, infuriating Alex—being involved in my daughter's life seemed absurd. And yet, he'd volunteered to drive her to school, bought her thoughtful gifts...I picked up the book he'd left for Emilia—a signed first edition of "Starstruck." How had he known she wanted it? The puzzle too—it was exactly the kind of complex challenge she loved. It showed an attention to detail, a consideration I wouldn't have expected from him.My phone buzzed with another text message. This time from Alex: Emilia safely delivered to school. She might have mentioned I ask "stupid que
Ava.The house felt too quiet once Alex and Emilia left. I leaned against the kitchen counter, coffee cup in hand, trying to ignore the pounding in my temples. This was not how I'd planned to start my day—hungover, exhausted, and now with Alex Russo driving my daughter to school. The fake engagement was spiraling out of control faster than I could manage."Ms. Ava, would you like me to prepare something for lunch later?" Rosa asked, appearing in the doorway with an armful of freshly folded laundry."No thanks, Rosa. I'll probably be stuck in my office all day." I forced a smile, my voice rough from last night's excesses. "I've got a PR nightmare to manage."Rosa's expression remained neutral, but I caught a flicker of something—concern, maybe—in her eyes. "I saw the photos. On the news."I winced. Of course she had. Everyone probably had by now—the kiss on the balcony, Alex's hands on my bare ass, my fingers tangled in his hair. "It's not what it looks like," I said automatically, the
The DriveThe car hummed along the road, but the silence inside was deafening. I glanced at Emilia, seated beside me, her gaze fixed straight ahead. Her fingers deftly twirled a small, triangular piece of metal, the motion so fluid and practiced it was mesmerizing. For a child her age, the skill was impressive. Unsettling, even.I cleared my throat, trying to catch her attention. But Emilia remained lost in her own world, the metal dancing between her fingers without missing a beat.I swallowed, a part of me wanting to leave her be. The silence was fine, I told myself. No childish questions, just blessed quiet. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. This Emilia was a far cry from the bubbly girl I'd met at the house. The way she stared ahead, so intense and knowing... it was almost as if she was aware of something I couldn't see."So, Emilia," I ventured, attempting to break the ice. "How's school going? You like your teachers? Your classmates?"Her responses were cl
Ava.I stood in the kitchen, watching Alex hurry towards the door with Emilia skipping ahead of him. The migraine that had been pounding at my temples mere seconds ago faded into the background, forgotten in the face of this moment.Something about the scene before me felt achingly familiar, and painful difficult to ignore. As Alex and Emilia disappeared from view, my late husband's face superimposed itself over Alex's in my mind's eye. "James," I whispered absentmindedly, the name slipping out unbidden.A heavy, shaky breath escaped me, snapping me back to reality. Suddenly, I became aware of a dampness on my cheeks. I swallowed hard, reaching up to wipe my face. I'd been crying without even realizing it."Ms. Ava?"Rosa's voice startled me. I turned to find her standing at the threshold that led to the main lodge of the house. I hadn't even heard her approach. She tilted her head, genuine concern shining in her eyes. She didn't say anything more, but her gaze held a wealth of unspok