Ava
Standing beside Mrs. Wright, I couldn't help but stare at the mesmerizing dance of her knife as she chopped the vegetables with precision and ease. The smooth, fluid motions were a testament to her years of experience in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, was struggling to dice the onion, my eyes already stinging from the pungent fumes. As our eyes met, Mrs. Wright gave me a warm, gentle smile. I quickly looked away, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. The silence between us stretched, and my awkwardness grew with each passing moment. "You seem to be having trouble chopping the onion," she observed, her voice kind and non-judgmental. My eyes dropped to the onion, and I was surprised to see that I had only managed to chop a small portion of it. My eyes were already watering, and I felt a sense of relief at the prospect of finishing the task and escaping the awkwardness of the moment. I just stood there, feeling utterly useless. Mrs. Wright smiled kindly and said, "Don't worry, I'll assist you." She gently took the knife from my hand and began chopping the onion with effortless ease. I felt a twinge of embarrassment and apologized, "I'm sorry for not being helpful." Mrs. Wright's expression was warm and understanding. "Oh, no, it's fine. You can come to me when you need help with cooking, okay?" I nodded sheepishly, feeling a bit more at ease. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" I asked softly. "Oh, yes," she replied, nodding her head. "Why don't you take the kettle, fill it with water, and give it a good boil?" I nodded and set to work, trying to focus on the task at hand. As I worked, I heard her voice behind me, "I couldn't help but notice that you and Caspian seemed a bit off when you left back then. And when you two returned, there was a certain...tension between you. Is everything okay?" I pressed my lips together, feeling a surge of discomfort. I simply nodded, not trusting myself to speak. Mrs. Wright had persuaded me to spend the night, pointing out that it was getting late and that it would be more convenient for me to stay over and join them for dinner after my stomach decided to disgrace me by growling. I reluctantly agreed, and now as I stood in the kitchen, I couldn't help but feel out of place. Cooking was not my forte, and I knew I was a bad cook. But for now, I was stuck here, trying to pass through this unfamiliar territory. Before I knew it, the kitchen duties were done, and the food was ready. The aroma of steaming hot dishes filled the air, making my stomach growl again with anticipation. We carried the food to the dining room, where the rest of the family was waiting. As we sat down, Mr. Wright began complimenting the food, thanking his wife for being an exceptional cook, as always. Mrs. Wright beamed with pride, her eyes sparkling with happiness. As I watched them, a pang of nostalgia hit me. I remembered my father, who had passed away years ago. Seeing the Wrights' loving interaction made me feel a deep sense of longing. I wished my father was still alive, that I could experience the warmth of a complete, loving family. I pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the present. I ate slowly, observing the family's dynamics, feeling like an outsider looking in. Caspian, seated beside me, reached for my hand under the table. I felt a jolt of surprise, but his touch was gentle, reassuring. I looked at him, and for a moment, our eyes locked. But I slowly withdrew my hand from his grasp, the touch lingering in my mind like a whispered promise. After we finished dinner, I thanked the Wrights for the delicious meal. Mrs. Wright smiled warmly and said, "You two will take the room upstairs. Have a lovely night." I felt a surge of discomfort at the prospect of sharing a room with Caspian. Why do we need to do that? I know we are engaged, which is fake anyway, but that doesn't mean we should share a room? Damn it! Just as I was about to express my concerns, Caspian seemed to read my mind. He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, and said, "Don't say anything. You don't want them to find anything between us suspicious." I sighed deeply, feeling frustration and helplessness. I nodded reluctantly, and Caspian led me upstairs to the bedroom. As we entered the room, I was dismayed to see that there was only one bed. Why not two? What? Some wealthy people do have two beds in a room. Caspian seemed to sense my unease and said, "I'll take the floor. You can take the bed." I didn't respond, feeling a mix of emotions as I sat down on the bed. Caspian's eyes searched mine before he approached. "Is everything okay? Is the bed that bad?" Were beds really that bad? I had no idea! I looked up at him, my voice barely above a whisper. "Why did you hold my hand downstairs? Why did you do that while we were eating?" Caspian's eyes blinked slowly, and he gazed at me with an unreadable expression. He didn't respond. Instead, he stared at me like he was a motionless being. I asked again, my voice laced with curiosity and a hint of accusation. "Why did you hold my hand, Caspian?" The silence between us grew thicker, heavier, as he continued to stare at me, his eyes giving away nothing. What was wrong with him? He then looked away and laid a mattress on the floor while I bit my bottom lip... hard, watching him. Why was he trying to annoy me on purpose? "Why don't you lay with me on the bed?" I suddenly asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Perhaps, that would make him talk? Caspian's gaze snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. "We're going to get married, aren't we?" I continued, my heart racing with nervousness. "We'll have to pretend to be a loving couple, even if we're not. It won't hurt to practice, will it?" I said, trying to sound casual. Caspian's eyes locked onto mine, his expression still unreadable. Maybe, I should poke my hands in those obnoxious looking eyes. But instead, I gave him a smirk, patting the empty side of the huge bed, my eyes glinting with a challenge. Gosh! I felt a surge of emotions at his silence, a mix of anger and hurt and frustration, but I pushed them aside, telling myself I had to be strong. And then, I lay down on the floor beside him, facing him. "I guess we both end up on the floor, huh?" I said, trying to sound casual. Caspian's widened eyes gradually softened, and his voice dropped to a low, husky tone, sending shivers down my spine. "Ava, I'm warning you, you don't want to do this."AvaI felt a shiver run down my spine as Caspian's eyes seemed to burn with an inner intensity. His voice was low and husky, sending tremors through my body. I tried to maintain my casual tone, but my heart was racing so fast and hard that I could hear and feel it against my chest."What are you warning me against, Caspian?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the tension between us building, like a spark waiting to ignite.Caspian's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in a tight line. "Don't play games with me, Ava," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I'm not in the mood."I felt a surge of anger at his words, but I pushed it aside, trying to understand why the hell I was feeling like I was drowning in the depths of his eyes? Those beautiful gray-colored eyes.I bit my bottom lip, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling inside me. I couldn't believe I was feeling this way after all these years? I thought everything had changed so what was this forc
CaspianI gazed at Ava, concern etched on my face. She was staring blankly ahead, her eyes glassy and unresponsive. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her feet were tapping impatiently on the floor. I could sense her agitation, but I had no idea what was causing it."Ava, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.At first, she didn't respond. Then, in a low, husky tone, she muttered, "Call my brother."I frowned, taken aback by her request. "Ava, I'm here. You don't need to call your brother. Just tell me what's going on."But she wouldn't budge. "Call Marcel," she insisted, her voice rising. "Call him now."I sighed, trying to placate her. I pulled out my phone and dialed Marcel's number, but it went straight to voicemail.I turned to Ava, who was watching me with an anxious expression. "Your brother isn't picking up. Can you tell me what's going on?"She bit her bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. I could see the tension radiating from her body, but I
Ava My heart raced as I watched my brother's friend, Caspian, leaning casually against the staircase railing, looking every bit like a model. He was deep in conversation with a young woman, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous as she playfully touched him and flashed a flirtatious smile I bit my bottom lip, desperately wishing she would stop her amorous advances and let him be. Caspian Wright. A name everyone knows. The most handsome and desirable man on earth, the ideal type for anyone, and the youngest billionaire CEO of Wright Enterprises. It's no wonder he's admired and adored by so many. I gulped down my last of strawberry drink and scanned the bustling party, reaching for another beverage. Just as I grabbed a glass of beer, Marcel, my older brother and the birthday boy, appeared out of nowhere, snatching the filled glass from my hand. This annoying brother of mine also happens to be Capian's best friend and his personal assistant at work. "Oh, come on!" I groaned, p
Ava5 YEARS LATERAccording to my research and conversations with friends, the quickest way to move on from a crush is to open yourself up to someone new, replacing the old object of your affection with a fresh connection.And that's why I accepted Patrick into my life, a man who loves me dearly.A year and some months have passed, but the memory of our first meeting still feels incredibly fresh. I had stopped by my brother's workplace to drop off a document he'd left at home, and that's when I accidentally bumped into Patrick. That fateful encounter sparked our love story.As I sipped my afternoon coffee to the soothing melody of a slow song, I stared at my laptop screen, editing the first draft of my poem, which I was supposed to submit before the day ended.My phone suddenly beeped, interrupting my work. It was a message from Patrick: "Let's meet tonight at my place.""Okay, sweetie," I replied, brushing off the unusual tone of his message. Normally, he would call me those cheesy,
Ava"Calm down, Marcel. I... I can explain," I stuttered, instinctively stepping back, knowing my brother’s fiery temper all too well."But aren't you dating Patrick or whatever his name is?" my mother inquired from behind us."I broke up with him," I confessed, biting my bottom lip nervously. "He had a fiancée... he has been using me the whole time.""What the hell! I swear I'll deal with that jerk, but only after I'm done with Caspian," Marcel seethed, his breath heavy with anger."You don't have to worry about them," I sighed."I will because you're my sister. Anyway, you're coming with me!" Marcel growled, grabbing my hand and leading me out."Where are we going to?" I asked, trying to keep up with his pace."Shut up, Ava!" he snarled, shooting me a glare that sent me quiet instantly.Marcel hailed a taxi, which dropped us off at his company building. The scene that awaited us nearly made us retreat: swarms of reporters, armed with cameras and microphones, alongside obsessive fang
AvaCaspian flashed a brief, satisfied smirk and nodded. "Good decision, Ava. Now, come with me," he said, approaching me and taking my hand."Where are we going?" I asked, glancing between him and my confused brother, who wore a scowl of irritation."Don't you want the reporters gone?" Caspian asked, furrowing his brow. "They're obviously waiting for us, and they won't leave until we give them a statement."I pulled my hand free from his. "You don't need to hold my hand through this. We're not exactly a couple, so there's no need to pretend to be the perfect boyfriend."I left before he could respond, my brother following closely behind. As we stepped into the elevator, Caspian joined us, adjusting his tie with a practiced gesture, his poker face unwavering. When the doors slid open next, my eyes met Patrick’s."Hold my hand," I whispered to Caspian, taking his calloused yet warm hand and intertwining our fingers."Good day, sir," Patrick greeted, offering a respectful bow as his eye
Caspian"You're quite dressed up for a fake girlfriend, don't you think?" I asked, my gaze traveling over Ava's stunning, sparkling black dress that featured a tasteful side slit and matching black heels.She rolled her eyes, reluctantly taking my outstretched hand. "I'm just trying to impress your parents, that's all. Don't read too much into it."We quietly made our way inside. My parents were seated, my mother enjoying a slice of apple while my father scrolled through his phone."Oh my goodness!" My mother chuckled, standing up and rushing toward Ava. "You're here!"She smiled brightly, nodding her head. "Yes, Mrs. Wright.""Nonsense!" she laughed. "Call me 'Mother.' You look really beautiful, dear."Ava's expression shifted slightly, but she simply murmured a thank you and allowed my excited mother to lead her away. My mother seemed more excited to see Ava than her own son, whom she hadn't seen in person for two months."Ava Thompson?" my father asked, observing her."Yes, sir," A
CaspianI gazed at Ava, concern etched on my face. She was staring blankly ahead, her eyes glassy and unresponsive. Her hands were clenched into fists, and her feet were tapping impatiently on the floor. I could sense her agitation, but I had no idea what was causing it."Ava, what's wrong?" I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle.At first, she didn't respond. Then, in a low, husky tone, she muttered, "Call my brother."I frowned, taken aback by her request. "Ava, I'm here. You don't need to call your brother. Just tell me what's going on."But she wouldn't budge. "Call Marcel," she insisted, her voice rising. "Call him now."I sighed, trying to placate her. I pulled out my phone and dialed Marcel's number, but it went straight to voicemail.I turned to Ava, who was watching me with an anxious expression. "Your brother isn't picking up. Can you tell me what's going on?"She bit her bottom lip, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. I could see the tension radiating from her body, but I
AvaI felt a shiver run down my spine as Caspian's eyes seemed to burn with an inner intensity. His voice was low and husky, sending tremors through my body. I tried to maintain my casual tone, but my heart was racing so fast and hard that I could hear and feel it against my chest."What are you warning me against, Caspian?" I finally asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel the tension between us building, like a spark waiting to ignite.Caspian's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched in a tight line. "Don't play games with me, Ava," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "I'm not in the mood."I felt a surge of anger at his words, but I pushed it aside, trying to understand why the hell I was feeling like I was drowning in the depths of his eyes? Those beautiful gray-colored eyes.I bit my bottom lip, trying to process the mix of emotions swirling inside me. I couldn't believe I was feeling this way after all these years? I thought everything had changed so what was this forc
Ava Standing beside Mrs. Wright, I couldn't help but stare at the mesmerizing dance of her knife as she chopped the vegetables with precision and ease. The smooth, fluid motions were a testament to her years of experience in the kitchen. I, on the other hand, was struggling to dice the onion, my eyes already stinging from the pungent fumes. As our eyes met, Mrs. Wright gave me a warm, gentle smile. I quickly looked away, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. The silence between us stretched, and my awkwardness grew with each passing moment. "You seem to be having trouble chopping the onion," she observed, her voice kind and non-judgmental. My eyes dropped to the onion, and I was surprised to see that I had only managed to chop a small portion of it. My eyes were already watering, and I felt a sense of relief at the prospect of finishing the task and escaping the awkwardness of the moment. I just stood there, feeling utterly useless. Mrs. Wright smiled kindly and said, "Don't worry
Caspian"You're quite dressed up for a fake girlfriend, don't you think?" I asked, my gaze traveling over Ava's stunning, sparkling black dress that featured a tasteful side slit and matching black heels.She rolled her eyes, reluctantly taking my outstretched hand. "I'm just trying to impress your parents, that's all. Don't read too much into it."We quietly made our way inside. My parents were seated, my mother enjoying a slice of apple while my father scrolled through his phone."Oh my goodness!" My mother chuckled, standing up and rushing toward Ava. "You're here!"She smiled brightly, nodding her head. "Yes, Mrs. Wright.""Nonsense!" she laughed. "Call me 'Mother.' You look really beautiful, dear."Ava's expression shifted slightly, but she simply murmured a thank you and allowed my excited mother to lead her away. My mother seemed more excited to see Ava than her own son, whom she hadn't seen in person for two months."Ava Thompson?" my father asked, observing her."Yes, sir," A
AvaCaspian flashed a brief, satisfied smirk and nodded. "Good decision, Ava. Now, come with me," he said, approaching me and taking my hand."Where are we going?" I asked, glancing between him and my confused brother, who wore a scowl of irritation."Don't you want the reporters gone?" Caspian asked, furrowing his brow. "They're obviously waiting for us, and they won't leave until we give them a statement."I pulled my hand free from his. "You don't need to hold my hand through this. We're not exactly a couple, so there's no need to pretend to be the perfect boyfriend."I left before he could respond, my brother following closely behind. As we stepped into the elevator, Caspian joined us, adjusting his tie with a practiced gesture, his poker face unwavering. When the doors slid open next, my eyes met Patrick’s."Hold my hand," I whispered to Caspian, taking his calloused yet warm hand and intertwining our fingers."Good day, sir," Patrick greeted, offering a respectful bow as his eye
Ava"Calm down, Marcel. I... I can explain," I stuttered, instinctively stepping back, knowing my brother’s fiery temper all too well."But aren't you dating Patrick or whatever his name is?" my mother inquired from behind us."I broke up with him," I confessed, biting my bottom lip nervously. "He had a fiancée... he has been using me the whole time.""What the hell! I swear I'll deal with that jerk, but only after I'm done with Caspian," Marcel seethed, his breath heavy with anger."You don't have to worry about them," I sighed."I will because you're my sister. Anyway, you're coming with me!" Marcel growled, grabbing my hand and leading me out."Where are we going to?" I asked, trying to keep up with his pace."Shut up, Ava!" he snarled, shooting me a glare that sent me quiet instantly.Marcel hailed a taxi, which dropped us off at his company building. The scene that awaited us nearly made us retreat: swarms of reporters, armed with cameras and microphones, alongside obsessive fang
Ava5 YEARS LATERAccording to my research and conversations with friends, the quickest way to move on from a crush is to open yourself up to someone new, replacing the old object of your affection with a fresh connection.And that's why I accepted Patrick into my life, a man who loves me dearly.A year and some months have passed, but the memory of our first meeting still feels incredibly fresh. I had stopped by my brother's workplace to drop off a document he'd left at home, and that's when I accidentally bumped into Patrick. That fateful encounter sparked our love story.As I sipped my afternoon coffee to the soothing melody of a slow song, I stared at my laptop screen, editing the first draft of my poem, which I was supposed to submit before the day ended.My phone suddenly beeped, interrupting my work. It was a message from Patrick: "Let's meet tonight at my place.""Okay, sweetie," I replied, brushing off the unusual tone of his message. Normally, he would call me those cheesy,
Ava My heart raced as I watched my brother's friend, Caspian, leaning casually against the staircase railing, looking every bit like a model. He was deep in conversation with a young woman, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous as she playfully touched him and flashed a flirtatious smile I bit my bottom lip, desperately wishing she would stop her amorous advances and let him be. Caspian Wright. A name everyone knows. The most handsome and desirable man on earth, the ideal type for anyone, and the youngest billionaire CEO of Wright Enterprises. It's no wonder he's admired and adored by so many. I gulped down my last of strawberry drink and scanned the bustling party, reaching for another beverage. Just as I grabbed a glass of beer, Marcel, my older brother and the birthday boy, appeared out of nowhere, snatching the filled glass from my hand. This annoying brother of mine also happens to be Capian's best friend and his personal assistant at work. "Oh, come on!" I groaned, p