When Alexander Reed, a successful architect, marries Ava Hart, a kind schoolteacher, he believes he’s found the love of his life. But his mother, Deirdre, has always viewed Ava as an unworthy match for her son. A wealthy and powerful socialite, Deirdre is determined to break them apart. Without hiding her disdain, Deirdre manipulates situations, plants doubts in Alexander’s mind, and even creates a scandal to ruin Ava’s reputation. She pushes other women, like the charming and flirtatious June, into Alexander’s path, hoping to replace Ava. As their marriage begins to crack under the pressure, Ava starts uncovering dark secrets about Deirdre’s past. Now, Alexander must decide whether to choose his wife or the woman who has controlled his life for so long. Will their love survive Deirdre’s manipulation, or will Deirdre finally succeed in separating them? Word count: 100,000.
View MoreAva barely had time to breathe before Alexander’s lips claimed hers again.This time, it was deeper. Slower. Like he was drinking her in.His hand curled around the back of her neck, pulling her flush against him, and she could feel the warmth of his palm, the slight tremble in his fingers...reminding her he wasn’t fully healed. But he kissed her like he didn’t care. Like the bruises on his ribs, the stitched-up wound on his side, meant nothing. His lips moved with purpose, dragging heat up her spine.“Alex…” she whispered against his mouth, breathless.He didn’t stop.He kissed her again, slower this time, his lips brushing hers like a question. His other hand found her waist, fingers splayed wide, sliding under the hem of her shirt. When his skin met hers, a sharp breath hitched in her throat. It was electric. And it was real.Her shirt rode up as he moved, his touch lingering, trailing up her side until his fingers brushed the clasp of her bra. He paused...eyes moving up to meet he
Alexander and his friends were in the living room later that night, controllers in hand, trash-talking each other like they were back in their college dorms. The PS5 had this low hum, the flat screen flashing with color as their characters shot across the battlefield. Every now and then, someone cursed or cheered loudly, and laughter bounced off the walls.Ava had cleaned up the dining area by herself. She’d waved off Jake when he offered to help. She needed the distraction. She needed something normal to do with her hands. Something calm.The smell of lemon and garlic still clung faintly to the air, but the warmth of the evening had cooled down. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off, and Ava’s muscles were aching a little.She wiped her damp hands on a dish towel and paused at the hallway. Something tugged at her.She didn’t want to do it. She really didn’t. But she also couldn’t ignore it.Deirdre.The guest room door was shut. Not locked. Ava stood in front of it for a second. S
Deirdre stayed.Not that Ava expected a thank you.For three days, the woman remained under their roof, floating around like she owned every inch of space. She barely spoke to Ava, which Ava was more than fine with. If anything, she was relieved. It meant no snide comments, no backhanded remarks, no ice-pick stares.Still, the silence was loud.Ava avoided her as much as possible. She kept herself busy in the kitchen, rearranged books on shelves that didn’t need rearranging, cleaned windows that weren’t dirty. If Deirdre entered the living room, Ava found somewhere else to be. If she was walking down the hallway, Ava took the stairs.Alexander noticed. And he hated it.He'd been growing more restless by the day. Still not fully recovered, still stiff when he moved, but stronger. Healthier. Pacing sometimes. Silent sometimes. Watching Ava like she might disappear."You don’t even walk freely in your own house," he said one morning, jaw clenched.Ava just smiled and kissed his cheek. "I
Deirdre slammed her spoon on the edge of her bowl. Soup sloshed against the rim."That’s it," she muttered.She stood up, shoved her chair back with a loud scrape, and stormed out of the dining room. Her heels clacked sharply against the floor as she moved, every step louder than necessary."Alexander!"He heard her coming. He didn’t flinch.Ava still sat beside him, her head on his chest, hands clutched in his. Her eyes were closed like she was bracing herself.The door burst open."Alexander, I have had enough of this sulking!"Deirdre stood in the doorway, her hands on her hips, face twisted in that tight, scornful look she wore too often around Ava. Her lipstick looked too red, too forced. Her perfectly curled hair trembled with her fury.He didn’t move."Lunch is cold!" she snapped. "And you’re sitting here like a child sulking in his room? What is wrong with you?"He gently let go of Ava’s hand and stood up. Slowly. Carefully. But when he spoke, his voice was sharp."What’s wron
The sound of cutlery clinking against porcelain filled the dining room. It echoed in the silence, too sharp, too neat. Alexander sat at the head of the table, one hand on the armrest, the other resting limply by his side. His eyes scanned the table...there was food. A lot of it. Dishes plated like they were meant to be photographed. Grilled chicken, sautéed greens, mashed potatoes, soup in a white ceramic bowl. Nothing was wrong with the presentation. But something felt wrong. “Eat, darling,” Deirdre said, setting a napkin beside his plate with that familiar tone that always sounded like she was doing someone a favor. “I made your favorites.” Alexander didn’t respond. He glanced at the hallway. The bedroom door was closed. Ava hadn’t come out. She’d gone in earlier, long before Deirdre even stepped into the kitchen. Said she was going to clean up and maybe lie down for a bit. But she never missed lunch. Not once. Not even when she had a headache or when she was pissed o
The morning air was still cool when Ava rolled the car into the driveway. She glanced at Alexander beside her. He hadn’t said much during the drive…just held her hand across the console, fingers curled tight around hers like he was afraid she’d vanish.She parked.“I’ll help you inside,” she said, reaching for her door.“No,” Alexander said, already moving. “I’ll walk.”She blinked. “Alex…”“I’ve got it.”And he did. Slowly. Steadily. He stepped out, straightened up, and walked toward the house like a man determined to reclaim something. His pace wasn’t fast, but his back was straight, and his jaw was set. Ava walked a few steps behind him, just in case.He reached the front steps, unlocked the door, and went straight for the chair by the window…his favorite one. The moment he settled into it, his body sank, like it was finally allowed to relax.He let out a breath. “God… it feels good to be home.”Ava smiled, soft and real. “You sure you don’t want me to carry you next time?”He smir
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