The morning sun blazed high in the sky, glaring through the tinted windows of James Valquez’s black Bentley as it slid through the streets. The city roared on around them—blaring horns, bustling markets, and the steady hum of life pulsating through every alley. But inside the car, silence reigned, thick and oppressive, except for the faint sound of Ava’s shallow breathing. She sat beside him, straight-backed and poised, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Her auburn hair was swept up into a practical bun, though strands had slipped loose during the hours they had spent at the estate property. James’s eyes flicked toward her, noting the faint crease of fatigue at the corners of her eyes. She was trying to hide her exhaustion, of course—Ava would never admit that the morning had drained her. She had worked just as hard as he had, surveying the land, asking sharp, thoughtful questions to the appraisers, and catching details even his team had overlooked. She’d impressed him. Again.
AVA'S POV The air in the Valquez manor's private lounge was still, a calculated silence interrupted only by the gentle crackle of the grand fireplace. Winter raged outside, its howling wind rattling the antique window panes, but inside, the room was a cocoon of warmth and unyielding tension. James sat in his leather chair, his angular features illuminated by the golden glow of the fire. He was the picture of control: crisp shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms, his cold brown eyes fixed on the chessboard between him and I. I sat across from him, my posture signifying a mixture of defiance and hesitation. I wasn’t dressed to impress tonight, my unusual fancy dinner dress replaced by a cozy knit sweater. My delicate fingers hovered over the wooden bishop, hesitant as I weighed my next move. “Indecision is a killer,” James said, his voice as smooth as the aged whiskey in his glass. He leaned back, studying my with an expression of detached amusement. “Not just in chess, but in
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
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