The rain poured mercilessly, drumming against the windshield of James Valquez’s Rolls-Royce as he navigated the near-empty streets. He drove with his usual precision, one hand on the wheel, the other adjusting the settings on the console to drown out the storm with a classical symphony. To James, the rain was just another inconvenience—something to endure and move past, much like most people in his life. As he turned onto a dimly lit street, his sharp eyes caught sight of a figure trudging along the sidewalk, head bowed against the downpour. Even from the distance, he recognized her—Ava Affleck, his contract wife, soaked to the skin in her paramedic uniform. Her job, though noble, was a point of irritation for James. To him, it was unnecessary—a stubborn insistence on maintaining independence when she had already signed her life into his control. Slowing the car, he rolled down the passenger-side window, letting in the sound of the storm. Ava glanced up, her soaked hair plastered
AVA'S POV The ride back home was quite gloomy as James kept his gaze away from mine. Looking over to where he sat, I outlined his perfect jawline with my eyes as his brown hazel nut eyes portrayed tiredness and maturity. I looked at him again admiring his facial features. “Snap out of it.” I told myself. Maybe he was hiding something. I allowed my iniquity to take advantage of me. “Why are you not driving today?” I asked from where I sat. “Why can’t you not be quiet?” He retorted instantly. “You haven’t answered my question.” I fired back. “You know, you’re still someone I can’t actually comprehend and understand.” James spoke, without looking at my direction. “Isn’t that why you fell for me?” I asked, seriously. “Is that the lie you keep telling yourself?” James replied, as he held my gaze with frugality and carelessness. “Let me guess…I'm an excuse you want to use to get back—" “Jada? Is this what this is all about?” James asked with no hint of surprise vis
The penthouse was cloaked in a heavy silence, broken only by the muffled hum of the city far below. Ava Valquez lay in bed, her body restless despite the luxurious cocoon of silk sheets and downy pillows. The room, bathed in soft moonlight, exuded opulence, but none of it mattered. Not the sprawling skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows, nor the marble accents and bespoke furniture meticulously curated to project the power of her husband, James Valquez. Ever since she married James Valquez, sleep had become a battle Ava rarely won. Every night, she sank into unconsciousness only to be dragged into the same haunting dream—a vivid, agonizing reminder of the mother who had vanished five years ago, leaving her behind. Tonight was no different. ************************************************************************************* In her dream, Ava was back in her childhood home. The stunning five storey bedroom, fully detached mansion built by Mr. Affleck Johnson. T
The private clinic stood tucked away in the heart of Manhattan, a sleek, modern building shielded from prying eyes by towering oaks and a wrought-iron gate. James Valquez walked through the marble foyer, his polished leather shoes clicking against the pristine floor. He was met with the subtle scent of antiseptic and the muted tones of classical music playing from invisible speakers. The environment was carefully curated—calm, sterile, and unthreatening, much like the man he was about to meet. Dr. Alexander Howard was more than a physician; he was a confidant, a reluctant therapist, and perhaps the only person in the world who truly knew the weight of James Valquez’s burdens. “Mr. Valquez,” Dr. Howard greeted him as he entered the office. He rose from behind his desk, extending a hand. “Punctual as ever.” James shook the offered hand briefly, his expression impassive. He wasn’t a man to waste time on pleasantries. “Howard,” he said curtly, lowering himself into the leather cha
James Valquez stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of his penthouse office, his hands buried in the pockets of his tailored black suit. The city sprawled beneath him, shimmering with artificial light and relentless motion, a constant reminder of the power he wielded—or, tonight, the power he was being denied. The call had come hours ago, but the weight of it lingered in his chest like a stone. Archway Holdings, the crown jewel of the business world, had slipped through his fingers. Not because his offer wasn’t high enough. Not because his negotiation skills had faltered. But because the board deemed him “an unstable candidate.” No heir. No legacy. No continuity. The words echoed in his mind, each one as grating as the next. For once, James Valquez—the man who could buy nations and shatter empires with a signature—had been told no. His jaw tightened, the cold fury he felt barely contained. He hadn’t built his empire from the ground up to let something as archaic as family va
The morning light filtered through the tall glass windows of the Valquez estate, throwing long shadows across the marbled floor. The penthouse was eerily quiet, save for the faint hum of the city below. Silence wasn’t unusual in James Valquez’s world—it was the absence of chaos that often gave him solace. But today, that silence held a tension so sharp it could slice through glass. James sat at the dining table, his face unreadable, his gaze fixed on the steaming cup of coffee in front of him. He was dressed impeccably, as always, in a tailored gray suit and a crisp white shirt. His appearance gave nothing away, but his clenched jaw betrayed his inner turmoil. Ava Affleck, his contract wife, stood a few feet away, leaning against the counter. She was dressed casually in loose jeans and an oversized sweater, her arms crossed over her chest. Her honey-blonde hair was unkempt, and her face carried the remnants of a sleepless night. The air between them was heavy, charged with uns
JAMES POV I sat across the big TV screen in my massive living room watching the newscaster lament in the economy of our small town. A figure walked through the kitchen as the fridge was opened. “Good morning.” The figure said. I turning back slowly to re-acknowledge her presence. “Morning Ava.” I muttered, without removing my eyes from the screen. “How was your night?” She attempted to start a conversation, regardless of yesterday’s occurrence. “Same as any other day.” I replied, quite quickly. “Sorry for asking.” Ava simply said. I paused briefly to reflect on my response. I picked up the TV remote subtly, knowing that I don’t care about Ava’s feelings. I abruptly switched the Television station to Super Sport HD TV. I abruptly picked up my phone as phone chimed to the text I just received. Flagging my messages into archived, Ava suddenly appeared beside me as if chased by a ghost from the kitchen. Her gaze remained locked into the TV screen. “I didn’t kno
AVA’S POV I stood in the center of the expansive kitchen, my arms crossed and my lips pursed in determination. The room was immaculate—almost too immaculate. The polished marble countertops gleamed under the warm glow of recessed lights, and every utensil was in its rightful place. It was the kind of kitchen that was frequently used by James maids, yet, seemed as if it had remained untouched for as long as I’ve been in this contract marriage with James Valquez. Tonight, that was about to change. James leaned against the doorway, arms folded, an amused smirk playing on his lips. His sharp features were alight with curiosity as he watched me move about the kitchen with an energy he hadn’t expected. “You know,” he began, his deep voice cutting through the soft hum of the refrigerator, “I’m pretty sure you’ve never even boiled water in your life. Are you sure you’re ready for this?” I shot him a glare over my shoulder, my eyes glittering with defiance. “I know what I’m doing
Ava stood at the door of her mother’s home, the evening sunlight casting a warm glow over the manicured lawn. Lillian Affleck stood beside her, baby Sarah nestled in her arms, her expression hopeful yet tinged with disappointment.“I understand your choice,” Lillian said, her voice soft but sincere. “But I had hoped you might consider living with us, even just for a little while. We could really use this time to build the bond we missed out on.”Ava’s heart ached at the sincerity in her mother’s voice, but her decision was firm. She smiled gently, placing a hand on her mother’s arm.“Mom,” Ava began, her tone warm yet resolute, “these past weeks have been a gift. I never thought we’d get the chance to rebuild what we lost, and I’m so grateful for that. But my place is with James and Patrick. They need me, just as much as I need them.”Lillian nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I understand,” she said, her voice wavering. “But promise me one thing—don’t let too much time p
The day James Valquez woke up from surgery was one that Ava would never forget. The sterile smell of the hospital room was a stark contrast to the overwhelming mix of emotions swirling in her heart—hope, fear, relief. She had spent hours pacing the floor while the doctors worked tirelessly to save her husband’s life.When the surgeon emerged, his expression grave but tinged with a hint of optimism, Ava’s heart raced.“The surgery was a success,” the doctor said. “We’ve managed to remove the cancerous cells. However…” He paused, his voice softening. “There’s been significant damage to his spinal cord. Mr. Valquez will likely be paralyzed from the waist down.”Ava’s hand flew to her mouth as tears streamed down her face. Relief that James had survived mixed with the devastating reality of his condition. But none of it mattered to her as much as the fact that he was alive.****************When Lillian Valquez received the call, she was in her study, staring at a framed photo of James a
The tension in the Valquez mansion was palpable in the days following Mrs. Valquez dramatic exit from James’ hospital room. Ava watched her husband battle his illness while grappling with his mother’s cold distance. It hurt her to see James, a man who had always seemed unbreakable, crumble under the weight of both his physical and emotional struggles.Ava had tried to bridge the gap between James and his mother, urging her to reconsider her stance, but her efforts had been met with silence. Lillian’s refusal to talk to James was wearing on him, and Ava knew something needed to change.As she sat by James’ bedside one evening, holding his hand while he rested, her mind wandered to her own fractured relationship with her mother, Lillian Affleck. Ava had spent years harboring resentment toward her mother for leaving her as a child to start a new life with Peter Max. The bitterness had grown stronger when she discovered her mother had remarried and was starting a new family.But now, seei
The sun streamed through the large glass windows of the hospital room, casting soft patterns on the sterile white walls. James Valquez, multi-billionaire and patriarch of his family, sat upright in his bed, his body frail but his determination unwavering. The diagnosis of acute leukemia weighed heavily on his shoulders, but an even heavier burden pressed against his chest—he had yet to tell his mother. Mrs. Valquez was a formidable woman, known for her sharp wit and unwavering composure. She had been a guiding force in James’ life, shaping him into the business magnate the world revered. But their relationship had always been fraught with an unspoken tension—a quiet battle of expectations and disappointments. For weeks, James had debated whether to tell her about his illness. Part of him feared her reaction, while another part longed for her support. But now, as he sat in his hospital room, weakened and vulnerable, he knew he couldn’t delay any longer. Ava sat beside him, gentl
The city skyline stretched out before James as he sat at his desk in the towering headquarters of Valquez Enterprises. It had been a few months since Patrick’s birth, and his life was full of both joy and responsibility. He adored being a father, though juggling his growing business empire and newfound parenthood was taking its toll.Lately, James had felt an unfamiliar weariness settle over him. The fatigue was more than the usual demands of his relentless schedule; it clung to him like a shadow. His mind raced through meetings and numbers, but his body struggled to keep up.It was another typical day at work, filled with back-to-back meetings and calls. James sipped his coffee, trying to shake off the dull headache that had lingered all morning. As his trusted assistant, Rodri, entered the office with a file in hand, James felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over him.“Sir? Are you alright?” Rodri asked, noticing the color drain from James’ face.“I’m fine,” James muttered, waving
The door to the delivery room opened at last, and James froze mid-pace. A nurse stepped out, her expression soft and full of warmth.“Mr. Valquez,” she began, her voice gentle but firm, “you have a healthy baby boy.”James’s heart stopped, then kicked into overdrive. The words echoed in his mind: healthy baby boy. His mouth went dry, and his chest felt as though it might explode with emotion.“And Ava?” he asked, his voice trembling.“She’s tired but stable,” the nurse reassured him. “She’s asking for you.”James didn’t wait for more. He brushed past her, pushing the door open and stepping inside the room. The sight before him took his breath away.Ava lay in the hospital bed, her face pale and damp with sweat but glowing with a quiet strength. In her arms, bundled in a soft blue blanket, was their son. The baby’s tiny hand peeked out, clutching at the air, and a soft coo escaped his lips.“James,” Ava whispered, her voice weak but filled with warmth as she looked up at him.James app
The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across the bedroom as Ava shifted in her sleep. The city was quiet outside, and the rhythmic hum of the heater filled the room. But something wasn’t right.Ava’s eyes fluttered open, and a sharp jolt of pain shot through her abdomen. At first, she thought it was another of the false alarms she’d been experiencing over the past few weeks. She placed a hand on her swollen belly, her breathing shallow as the pain intensified.Her pulse quickened. This wasn’t a Braxton Hicks contraction—this was different.“James,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the stillness. But he wasn’t beside her. He had been working late in his study, something about an urgent business report that couldn’t wait.A stronger contraction rippled through her body, and she gasped, clutching the sheets. Panic began to set in.“James!” she called out louder this time, her voice breaking.The sound of her cry echoed down the hallway, reaching James, who was hunc
The gravel crunched under James’ polished shoes as he hurried after Ava, his heart heavy with concern. She was already halfway down the long driveway, her strides purposeful but shaky. He knew her well enough to recognize when she was barely holding herself together.“Ava!” he called, quickening his pace.She didn’t turn. Her arms were crossed tightly, her head tilted downward. He caught up to her just as she reached the edge of the estate grounds.“Ava, wait.” His hand reached for her elbow, his voice soft but firm.She stopped abruptly, yanking her arm away as she spun to face him. “James, don’t,” she said, her voice cracking. Her eyes, brimming with tears, glared at him, though the anger wasn’t meant for him.He held up his hands In a gesture of surrender. “I’m not here to argue,” he said gently. “But you’re upset, and I’m not letting you walk out of here alone. Let me take you home.”Ava hesitated, her chest heaving with unspoken emotions. Finally, she nodded, her lips pressed int
James and Ava stood side by side, their polished shoes crunching against the gravel path that led to the grand countryside estate. The address Ava had received days earlier burned in her mind—a simple note signed by her estranged mother, Lillian Affleck. It was a summons Ava couldn’t ignore, despite the years of silence that stretched between them like an unbridgeable chasm. James, ever the poised billionaire, adjusted his cufflinks and glanced at Ava. “Are you sure about this?” His voice carried a mix of concern and reassurance. Ava nodded, though her heart raced. “I need answers, James. I can’t keep pretending the past doesn’t matter.” The massive oak door creaked open as they approached, revealing a man in his late fifties. His salt-and-pepper hair was neatly combed, and his tailored suit hinted at wealth, though his warm smile added a touch of humility. “Welcome,” he said, his voice deep but kind. “Mr. James Valquez? What are you doing here?” “Excuse me, where do you know