Mag-log in
PRESENT
When I walked into the boardroom, I saw her face go pale, and his face was just as stoic as I remembered. I took a seat and set the folders onto the table. She leaned over and rested her hands on his arm, and I almost rolled my eyes.
“Mr. Green: Does your assistant need to sit in on this meeting?” She asked; she still had that same condescending tone she always had, which reminded me why I hated her.
“Ms. Davis, I believe there is a misunderstanding; Ms. Vale isn't mine or anyone’s assistant. Ms. Vale is one of the senior executives," Arnold replied, and I saw her mask slip before she recovered instantly.
I could feel his eyes on me the entire meeting but didn't pay any attention to him; he was the past, a memory locked away and forgotten, and that was the way it would stay. After the meeting ended, everyone left, or so I thought. When I looked up, he was still sitting there, and she was beside him.
“Tanya, why don’t you go ahead? I need to speak to Ms. Vale,” he said, his voice low and cold.
“Of course, Killian,” she said, gently touching his arms again. It was a possessive move she has done forever. I sat looking at the man before me.
Killian Ashford had the kind of presence that silenced a room before he ever spoke. At six foot three, he carried himself with the unshakable confidence of a man who owned not just the building he stood in, but the air around it. Broad shoulders filled the cut of his charcoal suit, every line of the fabric tailored to precision, hiding those tattoos that would make a tattoo artist amazed. It was as if luxury itself had been molded to his frame.
His features were cut sharp, elegant high cheekbones, a jawline carved with precision, and lips too full to be anything but distracting. But it was his eyes that unsettled people most; they used to unsettle me too. A pale, ice-gray so piercing they seemed to see straight through skin and bone.
Dark hair, thick and slightly unruly at the edges, brushed against his temple, giving him an untamed quality that no amount of money could polish away.
A faint scar traced the edge of his brow, the only imperfection on a face that otherwise seemed untouchable, and I knew the story behind it. He was magnetic and dangerous in equal measure; he was the kind of man you couldn’t look away from, even when you knew you should.
“So you’re back?” He asked, his voice low but still somehow echoing throughout the room.
“What do you want, Killian? I don’t have time for you and your fucked-up games.”
“Games? You are right. It was all a fucking game to you,” he said, his voice raising, but I wasn't afraid of him; I never was. I saw the true Killian six years ago in a moment of weakness. He never allowed anyone to get close except Tanya, and it seems like that was still the case.
“If you still believe every word of hers after all these years, then you’re still as blind and fucking stupid as you were. "We have nothing to talk about," I said as I stood up from the conference table.
One minute he was sitting across from me, and the next he was standing in front of me. His six-foot-three body dwarfed my five-foot one, but it didn't bother me. It never did. He rested his hands around me onto the conference table, trapping me. He leaned forward with practiced ease and looked down at me.
“Why wouldn’t I believe her? She is my best friend and has always been honest. You were my fucking wife, and you were deceitful,” he said with a growl. I looked him dead in the eyes, and he looked away. He hated that I was never affected, that I could look him square in the eyes. I was the only person that ever dared to.
“Tell me, Killian? How did I deceive you? In what way?. I married you, but it was a contract, and I kept my end up. If you couldn't see it then and you still don't see it now, then I suggest you think long and hard. How many of your relationships ended? How many women lasted?” I asked confidently.
He pulled away and stood straight. “Leave her alone, or I swear I will fucking ruin you, Nova,” he said as he opened the door and walked out. Jesus, I knew I would see him and her but didn't expect it on my first day back in the States.
That afternoon when I left Meridian Capital, I stopped at the flower shop and then drove over to the cemetery. I parked the car and walked in; I stopped at the grave and placed the flowers.
“Hi, Mom, Sorry I haven’t visited, but I was busy with work, but I’m back now, and I promise I’ll visit often. I know Vera has been visiting you.” I sat beside her grave and updated her on what I had been up to. If it had all gone well, she would still be alive and with me. I stayed there a while longer. Before leaving the cemetery, I walked two more rows over and looked at the headstone. The tears threatened to spill.
I stooped down and cleared the wilted flower petals away and placed the fresh flowers. Zachary. I stood up and left the cemetery. Once in my car, I cried. I let the tears consume me. I cried for the love I lost, for the life I could have had, for the happiness I could have had, for my mother, and for the years I spent alone.
After my crying fit, I started the car and left. It was Friday night, and the streets were busy. I worked my ass off to afford this; it was a state-of-the-art residential tower, and my unit was all the way at the top. It was an exclusive high-rise. There was only one other unit on my floor, and it was private.
After a much-needed shower and dinner, I poured myself a glass of wine and stood on the balcony looking out over midtown Manhattan. Billionaire’s Row, to be exact. Tanya always droned on about this area, but she could never afford it. I didn't understand why Killian never bought her a place since he was so caring of her.
I stood there, the wind against my face as I drank my wine. Nova Vale, thirty years old and divorced. From the outside it looked like I had my life together and I was happy, but that was far from it.
The only reason I was standing here was because of Killian, because of his hurtful words, and because of his family and Tanya. Because of him, I lost two people that I truly cared for.
My mind took me back to then, six years ago. I should have never signed that contract, never agreed. I was desperate, and in desperate times people do desperate things, and my desperation led me to marry Killian Ashford.
KILLIAN One Year LaterA year ago, I was rushing to the hospital, terrified I’d lose the woman I loved. Today, I rush home every single day, terrified I’ll miss the sacred 6:00 PM Bathtime Window.It’s been one year since Leo and Clara arrived and turned our beautifully organized mansion into a toy-strewn, happy mess. And I wouldn't change a second of it.The biggest difference? My mother isn't running the company anymore; she's running the house. She’s officially the full-time grandmother, obsessed with organic baby food and tracking every new word Leo or Clara says. Auntie Vera is practically living here; my mother finally just told her to move into the west wing because she was spending every evening on the floor with the kids anyway. And Auntie Elara is the best, constantly bringing in new, soft things and smelling faintly of baby powder and love.Life is pure chaos, but it’s the best chaos. It's the sound of genuine happiness echoing through these high ceilings.I woke up at 6:3
The Executive Prenatal Committee was my fortress. Amelia, the matriarch, was teaching me the quiet strength of family legacy, ensuring no one would ever question this baby’s place. Elara, the sweetheart, was proof that innocence and loyalty could overcome the darkest manipulation. And Vera, my best friend, was running logistics like a black ops mission, ensuring every decision was medically sound and legally bulletproof.I wasn’t just married to Killian; I was anchored to a family that finally understood and loved me without conditions. The pain of the past was being steadily replaced by this overwhelming, sometimes smothering, love."And you," I murmured, my voice dropping. "You're the center of all of it. You walked through the fire with me. You didn't run when you found out the truth. You just held me and told me we were doing this together."He shifted, lifting himself up to meet my gaze, his own eyes serious and deeply loving."There was nowhere else to go, Nova," he admitted, hi
Six Months LaterIf you had asked me six months ago when I was bleeding out on a marble floor what I wanted most, I would have said a quiet life with Nova. Now, six months later, I’ve fully recovered from the stabbing, and I’m back at Ashford Global, happily fighting off vulture investors and managing multibillion-dollar deals. Why? Because the corporate war zone is infinitely calmer than my own house.Nova is six months pregnant, glowing, and running the most successful arm of Meridian Capital right from our library. She’s brilliant, radiant, and utterly ruthless when it comes to delegating her prenatal needs.The problem isn't Nova; the problem is the self-made prenatal committee she leads: my mother, my sister, and Vera.My quiet life has been completely replaced by an intense, multi-front theatrical performance aimed at ensuring Nova's absolute safety and comfort. They call it "protecting the asset." I call it "Killian’s Descent into Madness."The first thing that drives me crazy
I smiled. Arnold Green, the head of Meridian Capital, wasn't just my mentor; he was a giant in our industry. Having him here wasn't just a kind gesture; it was a strategic flex. It showed that the head of the firm so diligently stood with me, personally vouching for my integrity and my return to the Ashford fold—a huge message against any whispers Tanya might have left behind."That's perfect," I said, my heart swelling with gratitude. "He saw my value when."The procession down the sweeping staircase was the quietest, most emotionally resonant walk of my life. Killian stood waiting by the altar, still pale, but devastatingly handsome in his suit. His eyes, fixed entirely on me, were full of genuine love and profound relief, wiping away the memory of every cold look from our contract years.Amelia stood nearby, her tears quiet but present, a mother finally witnessing the correct future.Arnold stood near the back, his presence a quiet anchor of corporate stability. When our eyes met,
I sat back, watching my best friend and my mother-in-law, two women who should have hated each other, immediately team up to plan my legally required shotgun wedding. It was insane, intense, and utterly perfect. I was safe, loved, and about to be married by executive fiat.KillianI spent three days in the ICU, and frankly, I was ready to stab myself again just to get out of that quiet, sterile hell. The second I could prove I could walk without fainting, and after Nova and my mother jointly threatened the surgical team with legal ruin if they kept me, I was discharged.Ty and Rojas had a secure exit planned, smuggling me out the back. But the real chaos wasn't the escape; it was walking back into my own house.The house usually felt like a perfectly calibrated, silent museum of wealth. Now, it was a beautiful, protective asylum run by a newly formed, highly stressed female committee.The first thing I noticed was the smell. Not the subtle, expensive scent of my usual candles, but an
After the checkup, Amelia dismissed the doctor with a sincere thank you and a firm instruction to Elara to handle the paperwork discreetly. Then, she sat beside me on the bed, holding my hand gently."Nova, listen to me," she said, her tone soft but completely committed. "I was a fool. I let my pride and my blindness about Tanya cost Killian his first child and cause you unimaginable pain. I can't undo that, but I can promise you this: I will not let fear touch you this time."She reached out and carefully brushed my hair back from my forehead, a deeply motherly gesture."I need you to let me be your mother now. Not the head of the family, but your support. I'm going to set up a few things, and I need you to just accept them, okay? No arguments."She started listing the necessary changes, but her delivery was now calm and supportive:Security: "Those two big men outside? They're going to be your shadows. You don't have to talk to them, but you are not to leave this house alone. We kno







