Novels by Xena Vale

Ava’s POVThe receptionist’s whispering and the sharp glow of the breaking-news banner follow me all the way out of the building like a shadow hungry to cling. Outside, the cold air hits my face and it’s exactly what I need. Something real. Something not shaped by Damon Ashford’s gravity.My phone buzzes again in my coat pocket.I don’t look at it. Not yet.I keep walking, boots pounding against the pavement, replaying the headline burned into my vision:> Mystery Woman Spotted at Ashford Enterprises — Damon Ashford’s Secret Fiancée?Mystery woman?It's funny how quickly the world assigns names to things it doesn’t understand.I go to hail down a cab but decide to walk home even if I give up halfway… cause that is inevitable.I need something to keep my mind busy. Something to conquer. Something that doesn’t have dark eyes and an irritatingly beautiful baritone voice haunting me at every turn.Inside the apartment, Maya is on the couch with a bowl of popcorn she definitely didn’t pay

Ava's POV His last message sits in my chest like a stone as the city wakes around me. I move through the morning with the calm of someone who’s already made a plan—only the plan keeps changing because Damon Ashford doesn’t play small and I refuse to let him think he’s rewritten the rules. “You look like you might combust,” Maya says, handing me coffee like a peace treaty. “I don’t combust,” I tell her, the words flat. “I detonate when necessary.” She snorts. “Murderous and fashionable. My girl.” She eyes the bag on the counter—the velvet box peeks out like it owns the kitchen. “How do you feel about that?” she nods towards it. “Cold,” I say. “Like everything he does; it’s calculated, expensive, and designed to unsettle.” Maya’s brow tightens. “And the gala?” I shrug, keeping my face neutral. “He’ll send a driver at ten. On Friday. He thinks he can schedule me like an extra. I think he has another thing coming.” She studies me. “Go to his office. Tell him that.” That

Ava’s POVMaya’s jaw is still dangling like she’s seen the face of God.Her hand trembles around the velvet box. “Ava Hayes, this—this looks like a ring.”I arch a brow. “Then put it down before you propose to yourself.”She gawks at me. “Are you seriously calm right now? Damon Ashford just sent you Tiffany-level trouble and you’re what? Doing sarcasm drills?”“I’m doing denial,” I say, snatching the box from her. “It’s a coping mechanism.”She trails me to the kitchen, voice rising with delight. “Open it! I want to scream properly!”“No.” I drop the entire designer bag on the counter and cross my arms. “The last thing I need is to open some billionaire mystery box and discover it’s bugged.”Maya smirks. “Or discover he’s officially lost his mind and bought you a diamond.”I point a warning finger. “One more word and you’re on dish duty for a week.”She grins wider. “Its worth it.”I roll my eyes, grab a glass of water, and ignore the bag sitting there like it knows it’s winning.---

Ava’s POVLeo’s reaction is pure sunshine.No hesitation, no confusion, just an explosion of joy that fills the entire apartment.“Wait—Mr. Damon?” His little voice is high and breathless, like he’s just uncovered buried treasure. “The guy with the car that goes whoosh and smells like peppermint?”I blink, half-laughing. “Yeah, that one.”He gasps, clutching his small hands to his chest. “He’s my dad? For real?”“For real,” I say softly.A smile spreads across his face so wide it nearly swallows him whole. “That’s so cool! He’s so tall! And he said my drawing was awesome, remember? I knew he liked me.”He’s practically glowing, and I just nod, because honestly, what else can I do?Maya leans against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Are you sure that man isn’t made of money and manipulation? Because the kid’s already obsessed.”“Maya,” I mutter.She raises her hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m happy for Leo. I’m just saying, billionaires are like glitter—once they show up,

Ava’s POVThe morning light spills across the kitchen table, catching on the rim of my coffee cup. Maya’s already there, hair tied up, phone in one hand, spoon in the other, looking like she’s been waiting all night for me to wake up so she can pry.She doesn’t bother with hello.“So,” she says, voice syrupy and smug, “have we decided whether you’re marrying the billionaire or launching him into orbit?”I sink into the chair opposite her, wrapping my hands around the mug as if caffeine can make decisions for me. “Neither. I’m done giving him space in my head. I’ll do what needs to be done for Leo, sign what needs signing, and that’s it. No more getting angry, no more losing sleep, no more hoping he’ll suddenly become an actual person and grow a brain.”Maya leans forward, eyes narrowing with the kind of affection that always precedes an argument. “So, the plan is to marry the man without letting him touch your emotions? Babe, that’s not cold… that’s Olympic-level composure.”“I’

Ava’s POVThe morning after Damon’s mansion feels like a bad hangover. I keep replaying the sound of that high-pitched “Dami!” in my head until I want to throw something at the wall. Every time I picture the red hair, the bright smile, the kiss on his cheek, my brain whispers: You don’t care.And it’s right. I don’t.I shouldn't.Maya, however, refuses to let it die. She leans against the counter, phone in hand, eyes full of wicked amusement.“So,” she says, drawing out the word like taffy, “was she prettier than me?”I glare at her. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”“I live for drama. Especially yours.” She grins. “You, Damon, and his Aussie mistress. Honestly, I should start charging admission.”I groan, rubbing my temples. “She’s not his mistress. She’s… whatever.”“Oh, that sounds convincing,” she says, pouring herself coffee. “Anyway, are you sure you don’t want to talk to him? He might be crying into his imported pillow by now.”“Yeah, I’m sure.”I turn back to the stove