JAMES’S POV The fire crackled in my private lounge, warmth a stark contrast to the icy tension between me and Ava Affleck. The checkerboard lay between us on a polished ebony table, the red and black tiles illuminated by the soft glow of antique sconces. Outside, the winter wind howled against the mansion’s glass windows, but inside, it was silent save for the occasional clink of a piece being placed or captured. Me, looking cold and detached as ever, lounged in my leather chair with the air of a king surveying his kingdom, my sharp features, shadowed by the flickering light, betrayed no emotion, though my eyes gleamed with calculated precision. I was used to winning—in business, in life, and in games. Tonight, chess had been no different. I watched with an almost sadistic pleasure as Ava, my contract wife, struggled to keep up with my relentless strategy earlier. Every move I made had pushed her closer to defeat, and every small triumph she managed was swiftly dismantled. Her
The sun was barely over the horizon when James Valquez stood in his private study, sipping a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The morning light streamed through the expansive windows, illuminating the room’s sleek furnishings, but James’s expression remained shadowed. The previous night’s events replayed in his mind: Ava, poised yet unyielding, strategically maneuvering her way to victory in their checkers game. It was supposed to have been a harmless distraction, a trivial competition to remind her who held the power in their marriage. Instead, it had turned into a pointed reminder that Ava Affleck—now Ava Valquez—was more than just a pawn in his carefully orchestrated game. He hated to admit it, but he respected her now, even if only a little. Not that he would ever tell her that. Yet the memory of her triumphant smirk and the spark in her brown eyes lingered, unsettling him. Perhaps this was why, when he noticed her preparing to leave for work this morning, he’d impu
The road leading to the Valquez estate was long and winding, bordered by towering trees that arched overhead, their branches forming a natural canopy. A soft mist clung to the early afternoon air, but it didn’t dim the grandeur of the sprawling mansion ahead. The estate was a fortress of wealth, perched atop the hills, its sheer opulence making a statement of absolute dominance over the city below. Brandon Smith, multi-millionaire entrepreneur and a man whose name carried weight in social and business circles, navigated his sleek Aston Martin through the imposing gates that loomed in the distance. He slowed only slightly as he approached the high-tech security checkpoint, his mood simmering with impatience. The guard on duty, a middle-aged man with a calm yet authoritative demeanor, stepped out of the booth and gestured for Brandon to stop. The car’s engine growled in defiance as Brandon rolled down his tinted window. “Good afternoon, sir,” the guard began. “May I ask if you h
James POV “Release him.” I said, looking at him keenly as I studied his every move. He jacked out of my guards grip, despite being released slowly. He abruptly advanced towards me, proposing what seem like a fight towards me. I looked into his eyes with lack of regret to what ever happens next as my resolve was as frim as clay. Brandon stood directly opposite me as he use his head to head butt me with all his might. The impact was barely impactful as a stood rigid in my stance. I abruptly flashed a mischievous grin across my face. “My turn.” I blankly said as I replaced my words with my heavy fist brushing through his mouth. Brandon abruptly staggered back before regaining consciousness. I moved like a freight train, my massive fist swinging with the force of a battering ram. Brandon tried to duck, but he wasn’t fast enough. The punch connected with his jaw, sending him staggering backward into the open space. The dull thud of flesh against his Jaw bone echoed thr
The earth revealed the sprawling estate as Ava Affleck stared at the large dent in the ornate, iron-wrought gate. It had been caused by her ex boyfriend, Brandon Smith, who forcefully attempted to enter her contract marriage husband mansion, James Valquez. Now, the once-pristine entrance to James Valquez’s luxurious mansion was blemished, and Ava found herself standing there, wondering how she’d ended up in this situation. James, her billionaire husband—if one could call him that—approached, his work clothes with a designer robe as the latter was torn during the fight with Brandon, immaculate as always, his expression colder than the evening wind whipping through the yard. “This is unacceptable,” he stated flatly, hands tucked into his pockets. His dark eyes studied the gate as though it had personally insulted him. “I don’t want to have you spoil my gate Ava, The maintenance cost hundred of thousands of dollars, if not millons.” Ava rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her
Ava stepped closer, her face softening as she examined the damage. She pressed the ice pack gently against his ribs, her fingers brushing his skin. He hissed at the cold, but he didn’t pull away. “You should’ve seen Brandon,” he muttered, trying to inject some levity into the tense silence. “I don’t care about brandon,” Ava replied, her voice steady. “I care about you not ending up in a hospital bed.” James’s gaze flicked to her, surprise flashing in his eyes before it was quickly replaced by his usual stoicism. “Why do you care, now?" Ava paused, her hand stilling for a moment before she resumed her work. “Because, despite how infuriating you are, I don’t want to see you hurt. Is that such a strange concept?” His lips pressed into a thin line, and for once, he had no retort. She moved on to the cut near his temple, grabbing a first aid kit from under the sink. She stood between his knees, her proximity unnerving him more than he cared to admit. He could feel her warmt
JAMES POVI woke in darkness. The sound of me, breathing was shallow and raspy, bouncing off the walls of my vast bedroom. my eyes flickered open, the faint, predawn light slicing through the edges of heavy blackout curtains. The world was stirring, but I felt trapped in a different dimension—one where time had collapsed in on itself, swallowing the last two months whole.The realization hit me like a freight train. Two months gone. Two months of my finite, dwindling life. I had exactly 22 months left, an unyielding sentence etched into the fabric of my existence.I sat up slowly, my body stiff from a restless sleep. The cold silk sheets tangled around me felt as empty and oppressive as the sprawling mansion , which I built as my home. I rubbed my temples, trying to summon the details of those lost days. Had they been filled with business meetings? The surprisingly joyous adventures with Ava? Empty hours spent staring at the skyline? It didn’t matter. They were gone, irretrievable, as
The whiskey bottle was nearly empty, its amber contents reduced to a thin layer at the bottom. James Valquez sat slumped in a leather armchair in one of the estate’s many lounges, the room dimly lit by a single floor lamp. The edges of his vision blurred as the alcohol coursed through his veins, dulling the sharp edges of his thoughts but amplifying the emotions he tried so hard to suppress. He had tried to lose himself in the whiskey after his axe-throwing session, but the memories of the day, of Emma, and of Ava, had followed him like shadows. Ava. Her name lingered in his mind, unwelcome but persistent. She had been a thorn in his side from the beginning—a contract wife meant to serve as a distraction for the public and shield him from unwelcome scrutiny. She wasn’t supposed to matter. She wasn’t supposed to… affect him. But she did. And that was becoming a problem. James stood, unsteady on his feet, the whiskey bottle dangling loosely from his hand. He felt the burn o
The weight of secrets is a peculiar burden. It starts as a quiet whisper in the back of the mind, but as time goes on, it grows louder, more persistent, until it feels like a shout in the silence. James Valquez stood in his shower, letting the warm water cascade over his body as he leaned against the cold tile wall, his head bowed.The steam rose around him, but it did little to clear the storm in his mind. His decision to keep his terminal illness hidden from Ava had been rooted In a misguided sense of protection. He told himself it was to shield her, to let her live without the impending shadow of his mortality looming over their newfound happiness. But as their bond deepened, the lie began to gnaw at him.Was he doing the right thing? Was it fair to love her so deeply, knowing he could leave her in months?He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. For a man who had built empires and faced down rivals without flinching, James had never felt this vulnerable. Av
Two months had passed since the chaos that nearly tore James and Ava apart. In that time, their relationship had transformed into something neither of them could have imagined when they first signed their contract. What had started as a necessity for appearances had blossomed into something genuine, an unspoken bond that strengthened with each passing day.Tonight was a special evening, one James had planned meticulously. He had rented out the entirety of La Maison Privée, one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city, ensuring they would have the place entirely to themselves. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the private dining room, and the faint strains of a violin played in the background.Ava sat across from James at the elegantly set table, her laughter echoing in the intimate space. She looked radiant, her cheeks flushed with happiness as she recounted a humorous memory from her childhood. James listened intently, a soft smile tugging at his lips.“You’re laughing to
The air in the underground car park was thick with tension, the low hum of idling engines echoing off the cold concrete walls. Brandon Smith stood frozen, his eyes locked with James Valquez’s piercing gaze. The weight of the moment pressed down on him, his usual arrogance faltering as he realized he had walked into a trap. James stepped out of his sedan, his movements deliberate and calm, but his aura radiated danger. Behind him, the convoy of vehicles remained still, the men inside awaiting their orders. James’s hands were clenched into fists, his sharp suit giving no indication of the storm brewing within him. Brandon swallowed hard but quickly tried to recover his composure. “James,” he said, his voice laced with a forced confidence. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here.” James didn’t respond immediately. He took another step forward, the sound of his polished shoes hitting the concrete reverberating in the stillness. “You made a mistake, Brandon,” James said finally, his
The dimly lit underground car park smelled of oil and damp concrete, its shadows stretching unnervingly as Rodri leaned casually against a black SUV. He checked his watch, his face a mask of calculated indifference, though beneath it lay an eagerness to see this plan unfold.Brandon’s business associate, Marcus Grayson, a middle-aged man with a sharp suit and a sharper tongue, stepped out of his sleek sports car. His polished shoes clicked against the concrete as he approached Rodri, his eyes scanning the surroundings with mild suspicion.“You called me here, Rodri,” Marcus said coolly, adjusting the cufflinks on his tailored jacket. “I trust this is important?”Rodri gave a tight smile, pushing off the car and extending a hand. “Always, Marcus. I wouldn’t waste your time.”Marcus shook his hand briefly before looking around. “Odd place for a meeting. And why so empty?”Rodri shrugged. “Privacy is paramount, don’t you think?”From his vantage point behind the steering wheel of a matte
The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its gentle warmth casting a golden hue across the study. James and Ava sat side by side on the oversized couch, wrapped in the cocoon of an evening that felt unusually intimate. The weight of unspoken truths hung in the air, yet there was a newfound closeness between them, one forged through shared silences and cautious words.James leaned back, his dark eyes fixed on Ava as she gazed thoughtfully into the flames. She had been unusually quiet, and though he didn’t press her, he knew she was wrestling with something.Finally, she spoke. “James,” she said softly, her voice barely audible above the fire’s crackle.“Yes?” he replied, his tone gentle.She turned to him, her eyes searching his face as though trying to gauge his reaction to what she was about to say. “Do you ever think about what this marriage could be? Beyond the contract, I mean.”James raised an eyebrow, her question catching him slightly off guard. “What do you mean?”Ava hesitated
The heavy silence of the study was broken only by the faint ticking of a clock mounted on the far wall. James Valquez sat motionless in his chair, the firelight casting flickering shadows across his chiseled features. His mind was a battlefield, the opposing forces of vengeance and love warring for dominance.In front of him sat an untouched glass of amber liquid, its surface reflecting the golden hues of the fire. Beside it, a half-opened dossier detailed the latest intelligence on Brandon Smith’s whereabouts and operations. It was all there—maps, photographs, and the names of his known associates.But James’s gaze was fixed on a single photograph on his desk. It wasn’t part of the dossier but a candid shot of Ava, taken during a rare moment of happiness. She was laughing, her green eyes bright with life, her golden hair cascading down her shoulders. It was a picture of the woman who had somehow burrowed her way into his heart, the woman who had taught him that there was more to life
The invitation had come unexpectedly, but James Valquez rarely ignored an opportunity to survey the intricacies of his empire. Elias Johnson, a trusted manager in Atlas Incorporation’s logistics division, had asked James to inspect his warehouse stock holdings. The message had been professional and respectful, emphasizing the importance of James’s oversight on a new shipment of raw materials crucial to the plastics subdivision.James, however, had a natural instinct for caution. His empire had seen too many betrayals and power plays for him to trust blindly. Still, Elias had been loyal for years—or so James believed.When Ava had overheard the details of the meeting, she insisted on accompanying him. “You’ve been on edge since this whole Brandon situation escalated,” she said, her brown eyes sharp with concern. “I’m coming with you.”James had resisted at first, but he relented after seeing the determination in her gaze. He wasn’t willing to risk leaving her alone in the mansion, vuln
James Valquez sat at the head of the long mahogany table in the conference room of Atlas Incorporation, his fingers steepled as he listened to the voices of his board members rise and fall in heated debate. The room, usually a place of calculated strategies and polished professionalism, now carried an undercurrent of tension and unease. The topic at hand was no ordinary business decision—it was a direct attack on his empire, one he could not and would not tolerate.The chair to his right was empty, reserved for his assistant, Rodri, who was on his way with the final report. James’s dark eyes scanned the faces of the board members seated around the table, each of them visibly uneasy. The theft and sabotage at the production company had rattled them all.“Mr. Valquez,” one of the directors began, his voice trembling slightly. “The losses from the recent attacks are substantial. Over 40% of the last shipment was either stolen or destroyed. If this continues, it could cripple the plastics
The mansion was quiet, except for the crackling of the furnace that cast flickering shadows against the walls of the living room. James Valquez stood by the grand marble fireplace, his hands in his pockets, staring into the dancing flames as though the answers he sought lay hidden within. His brow was furrowed, his normally composed demeanor betraying traces of unease. Behind him, Ava Affleck sat curled on the oversized leather couch, her bare feet tucked beneath her. The warmth of the room didn’t reach her; she felt cold and restless, a deep sense of unease clawing at her chest. James turned, his sharp eyes meeting hers. She had always been a mystery to him—defiant yet vulnerable, stubborn yet compassionate. What had started as a marriage of convenience, a strategic contract to salvage his public image and provide her financial security, had morphed into something far more complicated. Against his better judgment, he had fallen for her. Completely. “Ava,” he said finally,