Chapter 346: Next generation
Next generation
Twelve years later...
Amara opened her eyes slowly, the morning sun spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. She didn’t get out of bed right away. Instead, her gaze drifted to the gallery wall across from her.
It had started with one frame. Now it covered almost the entire wall.
There was a picture of her and Julian on their wedding day. Another of him carrying her across the room of their honeymoon. The twins’ first ultrasound. Josh covered in birthday cake on his first birthday while Justina screamed because someone had stolen her balloon.
Then came another. The twins turning four.
The backyard had been overflowing with balloons, laughter, friends and family and enough food to feed a small village. Looking back now, Amara realized that was the last time every person who mattered to them had been together in one place. Life had pulled everyone in different directions after that.
Not long after that party, she had gone into labor with Jolene Jade. JJ. The baby who had arrived screaming loud enough to announce herself to the entire hospital.
Amara smiled. Some dreams took strange roads before they finally found you. When she had been younger, she wanted only one thing. To be a mother. She remembered crying herself to sleep, convinced that dream had been stolen from her forever. Back then, she would have traded every penny she owned for one child.
Life, however, had its own plans. Now she was the mother of three. A billionaire. And somehow... the wife of a man whose wealth made billionaires look ordinary. Money had solved many problems.
It had never made life simple. Her eyes wandered across another row of photographs. Julian was missing from more of them than she liked. School concerts. Birthday breakfasts. Family movie nights.
Beach trips.
He always came home eventually, but his work kept him traveling more than ever these days. Countries blurred together on his calendar. Sometimes she woke in the middle of the night reaching for him, only to find his side of the bed cold.
She missed her husband.
Terribly. A soft laugh escaped her. Funny. She used to think raising babies would be the hard part. Changing diapers. Sleepless nights. Fevers. The endless crying. She had survived all of it.
Nobody warned her about teenagers. "I was never this difficult," she murmured to herself. Well... Maybe that wasn’t completely true. She had made mistakes. Plenty of them.
But she had never been anything like sixteen-year-old Justina. Her daughter was brilliant. Beautiful. Kind... When she wanted to be.
She was also stubborn enough to argue with a brick wall and somehow convince the wall it was wrong. Every conversation had become a negotiation. Every rule sparked a debate. Every answer came with another question.
Sometimes Amara honestly felt she had no idea what she was doing anymore. The twins had grown into young adults almost overnight. Josh towered over her now.
Justina borrowed her clothes without asking.
And somehow, somewhere between school projects and family dinners, the tiny children she used to tuck into bed had become people with secrets she wasn’t always invited to share.
"Mummy!" A voice echoed from downstairs. "I’m going to be late for school!" Amara smiled despite herself. JJ. Her twelve-year-old. The quiet one.
If someone couldn’t find her, the first place to look wasn’t the garden or the television room. It was the library. Or curled up on a window seat with a novel bigger than her face.
The child loved books so much that Amara sometimes wondered if fictional characters were more real to her than actual people.
"I’m coming, baby!" Amara called back. She slipped out of bed, took one last look at the photographs covering the wall, and smiled. Life wasn’t perfect. It never had been. But somehow... It had become everything she’d once prayed for.
Twelve-year-old JJ was already halfway through breakfast by the time Amara came downstairs.
Unlike her older siblings, JJ never had to be dragged out of bed. She was always the first one awake, dressed neatly in her school uniform, a book resting beside her cereal bowl.
"Nanny, please take the milk away. I don’t want it," JJ said, pushing the untouched glass toward the edge of the table.
The nanny hesitated. Before she could move, Amara walked in. "Oh, no, young lady." She picked up the glass and placed it back in front of her daughter. "You’re drinking your milk."
JJ sighed dramatically. "Mummy..."
"No arguments."
"But,"
"JJ." The girl knew that tone. With the saddest expression she could manage, she picked up the glass and gulped the milk down in one go.
"There." She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "Happy?" Amara laughed.
"Very." She kissed the top of JJ’s head before reaching for the lunchbox on the counter.
"Your lunch is packed. I’ll go wake your brother and sister, then I’ll drive all three of you to school."
"No, Mummy." Amara looked up. "I’ll take the school bus."
"The school bus?" Amara frowned. "Why? I’ll drop you." JJ shifted awkwardly in her chair.
"Mummy... all my friends won’t stop talking when they see you."
"What does that have to do with anything?"
"They’ll make a big deal out of it. Again." Amara blinked. "I’d rather take the bus like everyone else." The words settled heavily between them.
"JJ..." Amara crouched beside her chair. "Are you being bullied at school?"
"What? No!"
"If someone is bothering you, you have to tell me." JJ let out a little laugh. "Who would dare bully the daughter of billionaire Amara Vale and trillionaire Julian Vale?" She said it so matter-of-factly that it almost sounded like a complaint.
"Mummy, your faces are everywhere."
"What do you mean?"
"The school magazine. Charity posters. Business magazines in the library. Every teacher knows who I am before they even learn my name."
Amara’s smile faded. "Everyone is so careful around me."
"They don’t want to upset me because they’re scared you’ll find out." She shrugged. "Nobody treats me normally." Her fingers played with the strap of her school bag.
"Sometimes I don’t even know if people actually like me... or if they’re just afraid of offending my parents."