Novels by Asisipho Mloka

Xavier & Anna’s POV---XavierThe board does not like surprises.And I have given them one.I sit at the head of the long conference table, hands resting calmly against polished wood, listening to quarterly projections without interruption.Numbers.Forecasts.Growth margins.All of it is presented with precision.But none of it holds their full attention.I can feel it.The shift.Subtle.Controlled.But present.They are not only evaluating the numbers.They are evaluating me.---The First MoveMr. Delgado clears his throat first.Predictable.“You’ve been… distracted lately.”The word is chosen carefully.Not careless.Not direct.Measured.I do not react.“In what capacity?” I ask evenly.He adjusts slightly in his seat.“You’ve reassigned internal structures. Promoted your assistant. Rescheduled investor meetings.”Not accusations.Observations.Catalogued.Prepared.---ControlI lean back slightly.Unbothered.“All operational adjustments were within policy.”My tone is calm.

Anna’s POVThe executive floor is quieter than the rest of the building.Too quiet.The kind of quiet that isn’t peaceful—But controlled.Every footstep feels louder here.Every movement more visible.Every mistake more noticeable.Nothing goes unseen on this floor.---ComposureThe elevator doors slide open.I step out with my usual posture.Neutral.Professional.Contained.Nothing about me should look different.Nothing about me should suggest—I slept in the Cortez mansion last night.That I woke up in a room larger than my entire apartment.That I made breakfast in a kitchen that doesn’t belong to me.That I am now—His wife.---NormalThe receptionist glances up.“Good morning, Anna.”“Morning.”Normal.Good.I walk past without hesitation.No rush.No pause.Control.---Inside His OfficeXavier’s office is exactly as I remember it.Cool.Structured.Untouchable.The faint scent of leather and coffee lingers in the air.He’s already seated behind his desk.Focused.Sharp.Co

Anna’s POVThe morning light in the Cortez mansion feels different.Not harsh.Not warm.Just… steady.It filters through the tall windows in quiet lines, settling across unfamiliar furniture like it belongs here.Unlike me.I wake slowly, caught between sleep and awareness.For half a second—I forget where I am.Then I see the ceiling.High. White. Unfamiliar.And everything comes back.The wedding.The reception.The ring.I’m married.Not in love.Married.---RealityI sit up carefully, the sheets shifting softly around me.My eyes fall to my hand.The ring catches the light.It doesn’t feel heavy anymore.Not like it did yesterday.It feels…Real.Permanent in a way I haven’t fully processed.I trace it lightly with my thumb.Not admiring it.Not rejecting it.Just… acknowledging it.---The New TitleA soft knock interrupts the silence.“Mrs. Cortez?”Mrs. Alvarez’s voice.Polite. Controlled.Expectant.“Yes,” I reply, my voice softer than usual.Still adjusting.Still learning

Xavier’s POVI am not a sentimental man.At least—That is what people believe.It is easier to let them.Sentiment makes you predictable.Predictability makes you vulnerable.And vulnerability—Is a liability I have spent years eliminating.But tonight, as I stand in my own home and watch my wife remove the last of her earrings in the reflection of the glass—I feel something I did not calculate.Relief.Not because the dinner went well.Not because my parents approved.But because—She did not shrink.---GrowthThree weeks ago, she entered my car shaking.Tonight, she sat at my family table and held eye contact with my father.No hesitation.No visible retreat.That is not confidence.Not yet.It is something more valuable.Control.Growth under pressure is rare.Most people fracture when observed.Anna steadied.That difference matters.---The Night in the RainI did not plan to stop that night.My driver braked because she stepped into the road.Red dress soaked.Hair tangled.E

Xavier’s POVI do not make emotional decisions.That is something my father drilled into me long before I was old enough to understand it.Emotion clouds judgment.Judgment builds empires.And I was raised to build—not to hesitate.Not to feel.Not to second-guess.And yet—I married Anna Santos.ObservationI stand across the living room, watching her without announcing it.She doesn’t notice immediately.She rarely does.Anna stands near the window, barefoot now, the polished floors cool beneath her feet.Her heels are gone.Her posture has softened.Her hair has fallen from its structured arrangement, now resting naturally over her shoulders.Without the emerald dress, without the controlled perfection of the reception—She looks smaller.Not weaker.Just… real.More human.More unguarded.She exhales slowly.A quiet breath she doesn’t realise I catch.A release.Controlled, but not entirely.She does that often.Holds herself together until she believes no one is watching.Then—

Maxwell & Madison’s POV Maxwell Maxwell hasn’t slept properly since the wedding. Not really. Not the kind of sleep that quiets your mind. He stands in his apartment, the city stretching out beyond the glass windows, but he doesn’t see any of it. His attention is locked on his phone. Again. The image is still there. Anna in white. Anna beside Xavier Cortez. Anna looking… Different. He zooms in slightly. Not on the dress. Not on the setting. On her. Her posture. Her expression. Her hand resting naturally in Xavier’s. Not forced. Not uncertain. Natural. That’s what unsettles him. Because he has never— Not once— Seen Anna stand like that with him. Not in public. Not in private. Not even when she thought no one was watching. His jaw tightens. Something sharp settles in his chest. Something he doesn’t want to name. Madison “It’s not real.” Madison’s voice cuts through the silence from the couch. Too quick. Too sharp. She sounds annoyed. Defensive. “I