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 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
I've always hated the sound of my alarm. It's not the gentle chime most people imagine for someone of my... status. No, it's an unholy screech that jolts me awake at 4:30 AM sharp. But that's the point, isn't it? No time for a gentle wake-up when you're running an empire. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my toes sinking into plush carpet. The floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse offered a view of Seattle that still, after all these years, took my breath away. The city twinkled in the pre-dawn darkness, full of promise and possibility. And problems. Always problems. Speaking of problems, my mind drifted to yesterday's bombshell. The fake engagement to Alex Russo. God, what a mess. How did a simple misunderstanding spiral so out of control? And why did I agree to go along with it? I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. No time for that now. I had a company to run, a daughter to raise, and a world to change. Just another Tuesday. My home gym called to me, and I answ
Alex. The steady rhythm of my feet on the treadmill matched the pulsing beat in my ears. Seattle's skyline stretched before me, bathed in the soft light of dawn. My penthouse gym offered a view most would kill for, but my eyes were fixed on the security monitor mounted on the wall. Vivian stood at the gate, her perfect model poise barely concealing the storm I knew was coming. I sighed, knowing what this meant. The engagement news had reached her. I stepped off the treadmill, grabbing a towel to dry the sweat from my face and chest. Three. Two. One. The elevator dinged, and hurricane Vivian burst into my penthouse. "What the hell is this, Alex?" She thrust her phone in my face, nearly smacking me with it. The headlines screamed about my supposed engagement to Ava Silver. "Is this your idea of a joke?" I stayed silent, watching her. Sometimes, silence said more than words ever could. My lack of response only fueled her anger. "I knew it! I knew there was something going on betwee
Ava. The gentle hum of my office couldn't mask the tension that crackled through the air as Alex sauntered in, looking infuriatingly composed. I straightened in my chair, determined not to let him see how his mere presence set my nerves on edge. "Ava," he greeted, that trademark smirk playing on his lips. "Lovely as always." I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Let's skip the pleasantries, Russo. What's this about?" Alex settled into the chair across from me, crossing his legs with an elegance that shouldn't be legal. "Why, our engagement, of course. We need to discuss our public appearances." "Public appearances?" I echoed, disbelief coloring my voice. "You can't be serious." "Oh, but I am." His blue eyes glinted with something I couldn't quite name. Amusement? Challenge? "This is a golden opportunity, Ava. We'd be fools not to capitalize on it." I leaned back, crossing my arms. "Enlighten me, then. How exactly do you propose we 'capitalize' on this farce?" Alex's grin widene
Ava. I stood before the mirror in the restroom, my fingers working methodically as I applied another layer of mascara. My reflection stared back at me: high cheekbones accentuated by a light dusting of blush, full lips painted a deep red, and eyes that seemed to smolder with a mix of resignation and defiance. I blinked, scrutinizing my work. The makeup was flawless, transforming me from CEO to red carpet ready in a matter of minutes. On any other night, I might have felt a twinge of satisfaction. Tonight, it left a bitter taste in my mouth. "Fucking circus," I muttered, reaching for my lipstick. My hand hesitated over the tube. Did I really need another coat? Who was I trying to impress? I knew the answer, even if I didn't want to admit it. This whole charade was for Alex's benefit. Sure, I stood to gain from our arrangement too, but right now, it felt like I was nothing more than arm candy for Seattle's most eligible bachelor. The door swung open without warning. My eyes fli
Ava. I woke up with a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like something had died in it. Groaning, I rolled over, my hand brushing against unfamiliar silk sheets. Wait. Silk sheets? I sat up, blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. This wasn't my room. This wasn't my bed. And I definitely didn't own a nightgown like the one I was currently wearing - a flimsy, barely-there scrap of lace that left little to the imagination. What the hell had happened last night? Fragmented memories swirled through my mind. The gala. The balcony. Alex's mouth on mine, hot and hungry and full of promises. And then... nothing. A blank space where the rest of the night should have been. I looked down at myself, my cheeks flushing hot. I hadn't put this nightgown on myself, which meant... oh God. Had Alex undressed me? Had he seen me, touched me, while I was passed out drunk? The thought made my stomach churn with a mixture of embarrassment and somet
Alex.The car hummed quietly as I navigated the streets of Seattle, the early morning sun just starting to peek through the clouds. Beside me, Ava was slumped in the passenger seat, her seatbelt on but her body curled into a tight ball. She'd pulled the hood of her sweatshirt up, burying her face in the soft fabric.I glanced over at her, my lips twitching. When I'd handed her the tracksuit back at the hotel, I'd half-expected her to ask about last night. To demand answers about how she'd ended up in that barely-there nightgown, about what had happened between us. But she'd just taken the clothes, her jaw tight, and disappeared into the bathroom to change. Maybe it was better this way. Better to leave the past in the past, to focus on the game we were playing now.I'd offered her one of my patented hangover smoothies before we left, pressing the green concoction into her hands with a grin. She'd eyed it suspiciously, her nose wrinkling."Relax," I'd said, moving around the suite as I
Alex. The garden was a riot of color and life, a stark contrast to the sleek, modern lines of the house. I followed the winding stone path, the sound of childish laughter and splashing water growing louder with each step. As I rounded a corner, I spotted them. Ava, kneeling by the edge of a small, ornate fountain. And Emilia, her dark curls damp and clinging to her cheeks, her little hands plunged into the water as she giggled and played. For a moment, I just watched them, something warm and unfamiliar stirring in my chest. Ava's face was soft, unguarded in a way I'd never seen before. She was smiling, her eyes crinkled at the corners as she watched her daughter play. But there was a sadness there too. Faint, but it was there, it flickered across her face when Emilia wasn't looking. It was the same sadness I'd glimpsed that day at her office, when she'd reluctantly told me about her husband. I must have made some noise, because suddenly Ava's head snapped up, her eyes locking