FAZER LOGINAva hugged her tighter. “Hey.”
Queen quickly wiped her face. “I hate this.” “I know.”
“I hate it when you feel this way.” Ava wiped her tears. “For what it’s worth, Melissa is an idiot.”
And James is a blind cat who doesn’t see what is in front of him. That earned the tiniest smile from Queen.
The first one all day. “She’s not entirely wrong though.” Ava’s expression immediately hardened.
“Don’t.” “What?” “Don’t repeat their lies.” Queen looked down. “It’s not a lie if everyone keeps saying it.”
Ava let out a frustrated sigh. “Queen, listen to me carefully.” The seriousness in her voice made Queen look up. “You are smart.” Silence. “You are beautiful.” Queen opened her mouth to argue.
Ava pointed a finger at her. “Don’t.” Queen closed it again. “You are kind.” Another squeeze of her hand.
“You are hardworking.” A pause. “And one day, some man is going to walk into your life and look at you the way you deserve to be looked at.”
Queen laughed bitterly. “Right.” “I’m serious.” “Ava—” “No, listen.” Her eyes softened.
“One day you’re going to meet someone who loves your laugh.” Queen blinked.
“Someone who loves your heart.” A tear slid down her cheek. “Someone who doesn’t spend every waking moment trying to change you or starve you both foods.”
The words hit harder than Ava intended. Because both of them knew exactly who she was talking about.
Queen looked away. “Maybe James is right.” Ava stared at her.
“What?” “Maybe if I lose enough weight, everything will be okay again.”
Ava’s face broke. Not in anger.
In sadness. The kind of sadness that came from watching someone you love slowly disappear.
“Oh, sweetheart, you did not create yourself.” “you’ve been trying to lose weight but its not working can’t you see, maybe you are not meant to”. Queen swallowed.
“You know james wasn’t always like this.” “I know.” “He used to call me beautiful.” Ava remained quiet.
“He used to look at me like I was the only woman in the world.” Her voice cracked.
“And now he looks at me like I’m a problem he has to fix.” “which you are not” Ava stared at her”
Then Queen’s phone buzzed on the desk. Both women looked down.
James. Of course, speak of the devil. Queen hesitated before opening the message.
The first text appeared. Baby, are you still upset about this morning?
A second message arrived almost immediately.
I didn’t mean to embarrass you. A third. Everything I do is because I love you.
Ava rolled her eyes so hard Queen thought they might get stuck.
Queen continued reading.
I know you think I’m being harsh, but nobody is going to be honest with you except me.
Another message.
The world is cruel to women your size. I’m trying to prepare you for it.
Another. If I didn’t care, I would keep quiet and let you stay the way you are.
Ava snatched the phone. “Ava!” “No.”
She quickly read through the messages. Then looked completely horrified.
“He actually typed this?” “this guy is a sick psychopath”
Queen sighed.
“He means well.” Ava nearly choked. “Means well?” “No. No Queen this guy is manipulative and evil trust me’ “He loves me. Ava stared at her, tired and short of words. Then slowly handed the phone back. “Read the last message.”
Queen looked down. A new text had arrived.
I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Queen. I want to marry you. I want you to be the mother of my children. That’s why I’m pushing you. I’m doing this for us.
Queen’s chest tightened. There it was. The version of James she kept holding onto.
The loving version. The version that always appeared after the insults.
After the criticism. After the humiliation. Ava noticed the change in her expression immediately.
The hope. The relief. The need to believe him. And it broke her heart.
“Do you see what he’s doing?” Queen frowned. “What?” Ava leaned forward. “He hurts you.”
Silence. “Then he convinces you he’s the only person who can heal the wound.”
Queen looked away. “He loves me.” Ava shook her head.
“No.” The word came out softer than expected. “He loves to control you.”
Queen’s eyes immediately filled with tears.
“That’s not fair.” “Isn’t it?” Ava asked quietly.
The question lingered between them.
Deep down, Queen didn’t know anymore. She looked at the messages again.
The apology. The promises. The marriage. The future.
Everything she had spent years dreaming about. Everything she was starving herself to keep. And said to Ava. “i am doing the right thing, he is my future husband, and i am 28 years, when and where do i meet another man at this age and with this kind of body.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then slowly typed: I’m sorry for being upset. The reply came instantly.
Good girl. Queen stared at the words. For some reason, they no longer felt comforting.
And judging by the look on Ava’s face, she was weak and speechless.
Ava stared at the phone. Then at Queen.
Then back at the phone again. Not I’m sorry.Not Are you okay? Did you sleep well? Just: Good girl. Ava looked horrified.
Ava laughed. A short, disbelieving laugh. Before either of them could speak again, the phone buzzed. A new message.
From James. Queen’s heart immediately skipped.
I’ll pick you up after work. A second message followed.
Smell good. Hope you are wearing something nice. A small smile appeared on Queen’s face before she could stop it. Ava noticed immediately.
“Oh no.” “What?” “Oh no.” “Ava.”
“You are smiling.” Queen looked down at the screen. Trying and failing to hide it.
It had been weeks. Weeks since James had taken her anywhere. Weeks since they had spent time together as a couple, aside from the gym.
Another message arrived. I made reservations. Then another. Just us.
Queen’s smile widened. Ava looked physically sick. “Please tell me you’re not falling for this.”
“He wants to spend time with me.” “He also made you cry this morning remember.”
Queen sighed. “Ava.” “No.” Ava folded her arms. “He humiliates you.” Silence. “He controls what you eat.”
More silence. “He makes you feel horrible about yourself.” Queen looked away. Well I still love him. Another text appeared.
Queen frowned. Ava immediately noticed. “What now?” Queen hesitated. Then turned the phone around.
Ava read the message. Her jaw dropped. Don’t eat anything for lunch so your stomach doesn't pop up.
For several seconds she simply stared. Then slowly looked up. “Oh, this man is going to send me to prison.” “Ava.”
“I’m serious.” Queen couldn’t help laughing. The first genuine laugh she’d had all day.
Ava pointed at the screen. “Who invites somebody out and tells them not to eat?”
“He probably has dinner planned.” Ava snorted. “And I probably own a private jet.”
The rest of the afternoon crawled by.
For the first time all day, Queen found herself looking at the clock. Waiting. Hoping. Maybe tonight would be different.
By five o’clock, she was touching up her makeup in the office restroom.
Not because she felt beautiful. Because she wanted James to think she was.
The thought made her sad. But she ignored it. She always did. When she stepped outside the building, James was already waiting.
Leaning casually against his car. The moment he saw her, he smiled.
“There she is.” Queen’s heart softened instantly. No matter how angry she got. No matter how much he hurt her.
A part of her still melted whenever he looked at her like that.
“You look okay.” The compliment felt like water in a desert. Tiny. But enough to keep her alive. “Thank you.”
James got into the driver’s seat without opening the passenger door for her.
As they drove through the city, Queen found herself relaxing for the first time all week.
They talked. Laughed. Even joked a little. It felt familiar.
The excitement lasted until they arrived. Queen stared at the glowing sign outside the building.
Then frowned. “James.” “What?” “This isn’t a restaurant.” He smiled. “It’s a lounge.” Her stomach immediately sank.
A lounge. Not dinner. Not food. Drinks. Only drinks. Queen looked at James. “I thought we were eating.” “We are.”
“No.” She looked around. “We’re drinking.”
James shrugged. “Same thing.” “No, it’s not.” A hint of irritation crossed his face. “Queen.” “I haven’t been eating properly.”
“You’ll be fine.” “James.” He sighed dramatically. “As long as you’re trying to lose weight, alcohol makes more sense than dinner, and moreover we have a wedding to plan for.”
Queen stared at him. Surely he wasn’t serious. “You brought me out for drinks because I’m too fat to eat?”
A few nearby people glanced over. James lowered his voice.
“Don’t make it sound like that.”
“Then explain it.” “You wanted to go out.” “No, you asked me out.” “And I’m giving you something better.”
Queen laughed bitterly. “Alcohol on an empty stomach is better?” “It’s either this or nothing.”
The words hit hard. Because she knew he meant them.
Queen woke up to a kiss on her lips. It was a slow kiss, barely there, warm and unhurried, the kind that she has been getting since she married. Then another, at the corner of her brow. Then one at the curve of her shoulder, where the strap of her nightgown had slipped, and she felt the smile against her skin before she felt anything else.“Good morning, the absolute love of my life,” said George, very softly.She didn't open her eyes. Instead, she turned deep into the warmth of the sheets and found him with her hand: his jaw rough with the early hour, his throat, the steady pulse beneath it.“What time is it?”“Early.”“Then why are you awake?”“Because I couldn't sleep.” His fingers moved through her hair, slow and gentle, from her temple to the tips. “I lay here for an hour and watched you. I didn't want to miss it.”“Miss what?”“The last morning you were only *about* to do it.”Her eyes opened.The room was full of pale gold light. He lay on his side facing her, propped on one e
The ladder was Mr. Pell's, which meant it had opinions.It leaned against the brick front of Hale & Son at a very slight angle, held at the foot by Ava, at the side by a bucket of sand, and at the top by sheer force of habit. Mr. Pell had delivered it at seven that morning, along with a tin of black paint, two brushes, a roll of paper, and a short lecture on the proper way to climb it.“Left hand on the rail. Right hand on the brush. Never the other way around.”“Understood,” said Marcus.“And you don't look down.”“I wasn't planning to.”“Everyone says that.” Mr. Pell folded his arms. “I went through a window in nineteen seventy-one.”Queen, standing on the pavement with the paper unrolled in both hands, pressed her lips together very hard.She had drawn the lettering herself, the night before, at the library table in the house, with a ruler, a soft pencil, and a pot of tea gone cold at her elbow. Two lines. *BELLA & CO.* in plain capitals, small and square, to sit beneath the old si
Helen Marsh did not believe in surprises, which was why the lease was already on the table when Queen walked in.It lay in the middle of a long oak desk on the twelfth floor of the Williams Group building, squared to the edge, with a fountain pen resting across it like a verdict. Helen sat behind it in a gray suit, her glasses on their chain, wearing the faintly dangerous calm of a woman who had read every clause twice and enjoyed it.Ava, beside Queen, was holding a coffee she hadn't touched. Her eyes kept going to the door.“He's coming,” Helen said, without looking up.“Who?”“The landlord.”Queen's mouth twitched. “My husband is the landlord.”“Your husband is, for the purposes of this document, a stranger with a building,” said Helen. “I'd ask you to treat him as one.”“I always do.”“You do not. That's the problem.” Helen slid the document across. “Read it.”Queen read it.Page one, the parties. Page two, the premises: three floors, a basement, a roof. Page three, the term, five
Queen was on the front steps at 6:35, in flat shoes and well-cut trousers, carrying a notebook, a tape measure, and a thermos of tea that Sarah had pressed into her hands in the hall. She wore the expression of a woman who had resolved, in advance, not to be charmed by the first building.Behind her, in the open doorway, stood her husband in his shirtsleeves, holding a cup of coffee and an air of perfect innocence.“I thought you were sulking in the house,” she said.“I am. This is the house.”“You're standing on the threshold.”“I'm a man who happens to own the threshold.” He sipped his coffee. “I'm not coming. I'm seeing my wife off. With my face.”“Your face isn't invited either.”“It's a very small face.”She laughed, and he set the cup on the rail and drew her in with one arm. He smelled of coffee and soap and the early morning. “Don't fall for the loft,” he said into her hair. “Everyone does. It photographs beautifully.”“I'm not everyone.”“No.” He kissed her, unhurried, in ful
Queen carried the box herself.Sarah had the front door open before the car stopped, and her hands were already reaching, but Queen shook her head with a small smile. “I've got it.”“Of course, ma'am.” Sarah withdrew her hands and folded them. “Miss Ava arrived forty minutes ago.”“Forty minutes? I left her on the phone not an hour ago.”“She said she'd been on her way for a while.” A pause, perfectly composed. “She has taken over the library. She asked me not to mention.”Queen laughed. It felt good, after the morning she'd had. She crossed the great hall with the box held against her chest, the jade plant leaning against her collarbone, and the marble echoed her footsteps back at her.At the library doors, she stopped.The long reading table had been dragged to the middle of the room. Notebooks, three laptops, a stack of sticky notes in four colors. A coffee pot on a silver tray. On an easel by the window stood a whiteboard that had not been there that morning, and across the top of
*****Richard's office was on the top floor.She had been inside it perhaps a hundred times. She knew the long dark desk, the heavy leather chair, the wall of framed photographs, deal after deal after deal, men in suits holding giant ceremonial scissors. She knew the smell of expensive cologne and old coffee. She knew exactly how it felt to stand in front of that desk, waiting to be told what she was worth.She walked up to it now with her head high.His secretary, a stern, gray-haired woman named Mrs. Parrish, looked up from her screen. “Mrs. Williams.”“Ms. Bella,” said Queen, pleasantly.“Ms. Bella.” Mrs. Parrish's eyebrow lifted a fraction. “Mr. Harrison has a call at nine-thirty.”“I only need five minutes.”“I'll see what I can do.”She pressed a button. A murmur through the intercom. A long pause. Then, rather faintly, “Send her in.”Queen opened the door.Richard Harrison stood at the window, hands clasped behind his back, looking out at the city. He turned as she entered. His







