Novels by Chesywins

Armando's POV"She is a friend of mine," Zahara said, too quickly—the way people speak when they have already known how far their truth is about to travel."...She has been going through a difficult time. I did not want to bring my phone in case it made her feel like a burden."It was a reasonable explanation but it was also not the truth. Because I had built a career on knowing the difference between the two, long before I ever needed to use that skill on my own wife."Eleven calls, I said, that's not the behavior of someone worried about being a burden. It is the behavior of someone who needed you and could not reach you.""She tends to worry." Zahara held my gaze without flinching—which told me more than the words did. A woman with nothing to hide does not need to work that hard at looking calm. "I am sorry if my absence caused concern. It will not happen again."I let the silence stretch between us—watching for the crack that usually came when I pushed a little further, the small

Zahara's POV"Zahara, I think he got everything." The words settled into my body like...stones, dropped into still water spreading outward— until every part of me felt the weight of them. I pressed my back harder, against the hallway wall...forcing air into lungs that suddenly refused to cooperate."Where are they now?" I asked— proud of how level my voice came out even as my pulse hammered against my throat."Inside. Safe. I locked every window and I am not letting them near the door until you get here." Priya's breathing was uneven on the other end with the sound of her pacing audible even through the phone. "But Zahara, this man knew what he was looking for. He was not some random photographer chasing a story. He had their names ready before I even opened my mouth."My blood went cold at that. A stranger with a camera was a coincidence but a stranger who already knew Cherry and Edward's names was something else entirely…something deliberate, something that reached directly into th

Zahara's POVI did not move, and neither did he. The hallway light stood between us like...something neither of us wanted to cross.And for a long moment, the only sound heard was the low hum of the house settling around us...it was the kind of silence that made every second feel measured."You should be asleep," Armando said to me finally, his voice even. Though his eyes had not left my face."I heard something. A voice— and I thought someone might be hurt.” My lie came easier than I expected, smooth enough that I almost believed myself. "No one is hurt." He said quickly, exactly the way a man says something he has rehearsed for this kind of question."Go back to bed, Zahara."I should have listened. Every instinct I had built over five years of hiding told me to nod, retreat behind my door and...let the matter die where it stood. But instead, I found myself studying the door behind him; the same heavy wood I had noticed on my first walk down this corridor...its handle worn smooth

Armando's POVShe left my study with her spine straight and her chin level, and I stood by the window long after the door clicked shut…watching her reflection dissolve into the glass instead of the woman herself.Certainly, I will. Just three words, she said without a flicker of hesitation.I had expected resistance. Like most women, who married into this kind of arrangement and wanted to negotiate, to soften the edges of a contract until it looked more like a courtship. But she simply agreed. Just the way a person agrees to terms they have no intention of honoring in full.I told myself it did not matter. A wife who followed rules without asking why was easier to manage than one who fought me on every point. But something about her stillness sat wrong in my chest. The same way a locked door sits wrong when you already suspect what waits behind it.I poured a drink I did not want and left it untouched on the desk...the same habit I had carried since the accident that took my parents

Zahara's POVThe wedding took place six days later in a private hall with more security guards than guests.My wedding dress and flowers were never picked by me…just a fitted ivory gown Susan chose specifically because she knew I would hate it, but I did not care.Outside the gate were a string of cameras kept carefully to protect Armando's business interests rather than my dignity.The hall itself was beautiful in the cold, curated way…white orchids that cost more than my old monthly rent, a string quartet playing music nobody in the room actually wanted to hear.I stood at the back of the aisle with my father's arm under mine...feeling less like a bride and more like cargo being delivered to its rightful owner."You do not have to smile, nobody here expects it." My father murmured as the doors opened."Good, because I could not manage one if I tried."I said my vows to a man I had shared one reckless night with and had had a handful of cold conversations since…and he said his back w

Zahara's POVFor a moment neither of us spoke. My father looked between us, confused by the sudden silence…unaware that the air in the room had turned into something sharp enough to cut."Have you two met?" he asked.Armando's jaw tightened. "Briefly," he said and something about the flat, careful way he said it; told me he intended to keep the rest buried…at least for now. I hold onto that mercy like a drowning woman grabbing driftwood."Small city," I muttered.My father, satisfied with an answer that explained nothing...excused himself to get the contracts, leaving us alone in a room that suddenly felt too small for the two of us...and everything unsaid between us.As the door shut behind him...the silence that followed, felt louder than anything either of us could have said out loud.Armando studied me quietly... the way a man studies an opponent. Searching for a weakness he could use."You disappeared," he said once the latch settled into place. "I went back to that bar for a wee