Novels by Valia Vaceia

The next morning dawned grey and heavy with mist. The mansion’s endless corridors were quieter than usual, the kind of silence that made Vanessa feel like even the walls were holding their breath. She stood before the mirror in the guest suite, adjusting the simple white blouse she’d chosen. She didn’t want to look like a CEO’s wife. Not today.Her mother didn’t even know she was married. How could she explain a marriage that wasn’t real?When she stepped downstairs, Alexander was already waiting near the door, immaculate in a navy suit, the faintest trace of cologne curling through the air. He glanced at her once, his gaze flicking from her wrinkled skirt to her bare face then simply said, “You’re ready.”No greeting. No smile. Just the same cold precision that defined him.Vanessa nodded, gripping her handbag. “Yes. Thank you for allowing this.”“Don’t thank me,” he said, walking past her toward the car. “I’m only keeping my word.”The ride was long and silent. The city blurred past

The hospital reeked of disinfectant, but all Vanessa Carmichael could smell was desperation. Machines beeped steadily around her, their rhythmic tones mocking her racing pulse. Her mother lay pale against the starched sheets, a cluster of tubes snaking from her fragile body. The doctor’s words rang relentlessly in Vanessa’s ears:“Without the surgery, she won’t make it through the month.”Three million dollars. That was the cost of keeping her mother alive. Three million that Vanessa didn’t have, could never hope to earn.Her life had already been stripped bare. She had sold her jewelry, her phone, even begged distant relatives until shame burned hotter than hunger. Yet the amount was still impossibly out of reach.By the time her shift ended that night, the hospital’s fluorescent lights had burned a permanent ache into her skull. She trudged to the bus stop under a gray drizzle, her threadbare shoes squelching against the wet pavement. Rain plastered her hair to her cheeks, but she b

The mansion loomed like a fortress as the black Mercedes rolled to a stop. Vanessa pressed her hands together, her palms clammy despite the cool air. Marble columns towered above the wrought-iron gates, and lights spilled across the perfectly trimmed lawns.She had never seen such wealth up close. It was dazzling, and suffocating.“Get out,” Alexander’s deep voice cut through her thoughts.Vanessa swallowed, gathering her handbag as the driver opened her door. The moment her feet touched the stone driveway, she felt like an intruder trespassing where she didn’t belong.Inside, the house was a palace. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead, and the scent of roses filled the vast hall. Servants bowed as Alexander strode past them without a word. His presence filled every inch of the mansion, cold and commanding.“Your room is upstairs,” he said without slowing down. “The second door on the left. You’ll stay there.”Vanessa frowned. “Not…with you?”He halted, turning just enough to pin h

The glittering ballroom pulsed with soft music, chandeliers scattering golden light across polished marble floors. Laughter rippled through the crowd, blending with the clink of champagne flutes and the occasional pop of a camera flash. To Vanessa Carmichael, the room felt like a battlefield disguised as a gala, where every glance carried judgment, and every smile hid a dagger.She adjusted the delicate strap of her gown, a midnight-blue dress Alexander had ordered delivered earlier that day. It clung to her figure with unnerving precision, as though he’d known her measurements before she ever entered his life. Her palms were clammy against the clutch she held, but she squared her shoulders, determined not to look like the outsider she felt.Alexander Cole walked beside her with his usual commanding presence, sharp in a tailored black suit that screamed power. His hand rested lightly at the small of her back, a gesture that was both possessive and oddly protective. If Vanessa hadn’t k

The mansion was too quiet.For the first two days after the gala, Vanessa felt as though she was walking through a museum, lavish halls filled with priceless art, marble floors polished to a mirror’s sheen, chandeliers glittering above her like frozen constellations. Yet beneath all the beauty was a suffocating silence.No laughter. No warmth. No sign of life, except for the discreet footsteps of maids who never met her eyes, and the occasional deep, commanding voice of Alexander issuing instructions to his staff.He left early. He returned late. And when he was home, the house seemed to shrink under his presence, every corner filled with his cold authority.Vanessa tried to keep herself busy, exploring rooms, reading in the small study, even helping one of the maids fold linen just to feel useful but the weight of it all pressed harder each hour. The contract had promised her a place to live, protection, money for her mother’s care. But no one had said anything about loneliness being

The ride home from the gala was wrapped in silence, but it wasn’t a comfortable silence, it was heavy, suffocating, thick with unspoken words. Vanessa sat on the far side of the backseat, her hands twisting in her lap, her heart still racing from the humiliation Clara had put her through and the shocking way Alexander had silenced the room with just one line.My wife.The words echoed in her mind. He had spoken them like a shield, his voice sharp enough to cut through Clara’s mockery. For a moment, Vanessa had almost believed him. Almost believed she mattered to him.But then she remembered his rules, his cold gaze when he made her sign the contract, the way he had reminded her over and over again that their marriage was nothing more than business.She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t feel anything at all. Yet her pulse refused to calm.Finally, unable to bear the silence any longer, she spoke. Her voice was softer than she intended, almost tentative. “You didn’t have to do that.”Alexa