CHAPTER NINE

Third person POV.

Asher stirred from sleep earlier than usual. The dawn light hadn’t yet broken through the thick curtains of his bedroom, but he was already sitting upright, his mind curiously at ease for once. 

Last night’s dream was one he wished he wouldn't wake up from, it lingered in his memory and he didn't want it to leave. Audrey in his arms, the softness of her breath against his shirt, the taste of her lips. 

The ache in his chest had shifted into something warm, dangerous, and real, and he was willing to explore it. 

He pulled on a grey cashmere sweater and a pair of black slacks, his movements unusually light for a man who carried the weight of an empire on his shoulders.

Downstairs, he found Audrey sipping a glass of orange juice, her oversized sweater barely managing to hide the curve of her growing belly. She looked up, surprised to see him so early.

“Morning,” he said, voice lower than usual. He let his eyes sweep over her subtly as he walked into the open-plan kitchen. 

“Good morning?” she replied cautiously, eyebrows raised. “You're up early. Don’t billionaires sleep in their gold-encrusted beds until noon?”

“I had a dream,” he said, walking over to pour himself coffee.

“A good one?”

'Yes!', his mind screamed. But, he looked at her over the rim of his mug and decided to go with: “You were in it.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly. “Was I rich in it too?”

He cracked a rare smile. “No. But you were happy.”

Audrey blinked. “Okay, now I’m scared. Are you dying?”

“No,” he said, taking a sip. “But I am taking you shopping today.”

She nearly spat out her juice as her eyes bulged. “Wait—what?”

“For the baby. And for you,” he said simply. “You need clothes. Your belly’s growing.”

“I know that,” she said, placing a protective hand over it. “But...you want to go with me?”

He nodded. “I don’t want you standing too long. And besides, I could use a break from contracts and boardrooms.”

Her lips parted in disbelief. “Wow. Is this the real Asher speaking, or his better-looking twin?”

He chuckled softly. “That offends me, but I'll take it as a yes.”

~~~

The ride to the designer boutiques in the city was smooth. Audrey had changed into a comfortable maternity dress and some slipper heels that were padded for her feet. She fiddled with the straps of her bag as she muttered the entire way about how none of her clothes fit properly anymore.

“I swear, I sneezed yesterday and tore a seam,” she said dramatically as she rolled her eyes.

“Are you blaming your body or your tailor?” Asher asked, glancing at her amused.

“Both. They’ve conspired against me.” She mock-frowned. She knew pregnancy was a whole lot, but the body changes still surprised her. 

He laughed—a real laugh—and it startled both of them.

In the first boutique, Asher was impressively attentive. He didn’t allow her to stand for more than a few minutes without ushering her to a cushioned seat. 

When she reached for something, he got it. When she said she wasn’t sure what color would suit the baby, he offered opinions that were always gentle, measured, and thoughtful.

She caught him watching her a few times, his expression unreadable, like he was studying her anew. She wondered what was on his mind, and knew she would like it because of the way his stares made her feel. 

In the third store, they paused for refreshments while the staff fetched options. Asher watched her sip the complimentary iced tea, her nose crinkling slightly at the tartness.

“You have a very expressive face,” he said, almost to himself.

“Thanks,” she said. “It’s both a blessing and a curse. I once tried lying to my cousin that her hair didn’t look like a burning mop. She knew immediately because my face betrayed me.” She chuckled.

“You called her hair a burning mop?”

“It was orange and teased three feet high! Forgive me for fearing for public safety.” She defended. 

He laughed again, a small smirk tugging at his mouth. “You’re funnier than I expected.”

“I get that a lot. And sometimes, I feel like a clown while at it.”

He shook his head, slightly amazed. This side of Audrey—the unfiltered, sarcastic, lighthearted version—was new. And it was pulling him in.

She was not like Madeline, not by a long shot. Madeline had been fiery and intoxicating—a burning obsession that scorched everything it touched. But Audrey? She was the ember. Quiet. Constant. Warm.

And he wanted to sit next to that warmth a little longer everytime.

At the final boutique, the shop owner appeared with a sleek designer maternity dress in white silk. It was stunning, soft and simple. Audrey blinked at it, then turned to Asher.

“I thought we were just buying baby clothes?”

“I saw this and thought it would look good on you,” he shrugged.

Audrey looked hesitant, but a small, uncertain smile crept onto her lips. “You’re full of surprises today.”

“Get that in a size eight, please.” As the attendant walked away to go find the right size, he turned to Audrey and gestured to a chair. “Sit. Let me see your feet.”

Audrey raised an eyebrow. “Are you about to check if I have Hobbit toes?”

“No,” he said dryly. “I’m going to massage them.”

“You? Asher Lennox, CEO of Lennox merchandise, massaging my feet? The skies must have fallen without my knowledge, because whew!” She exaggerated. 

He led her to a sir and muttered “Cut it out.” Before placing pillows behind her back so she can rest on them. Audrey went silent. He gently lifted her foot and began pressing into the arch with his thumbs. She let out an involuntary sigh.

“That’s... shockingly good,” she whispered.

“My mother used to do this,” he said, quietly. “When I was a kid. Whenever I came home from school upset, she’d make muffins. And then she’d sit me down and massage my feet. I thought it was stupid back then.”

Audrey’s gaze softened. “I don’t think it’s stupid.”

“She always smelled like vanilla and cinnamon,” he continued. “Sometimes I walk past bakeries and the scent hits me and...it just stops me in my tracks.”

Audrey reached out as if to touch his cheek, but paused mid-air. Before she could decide, the shop attendant returned with the dress.

She stood and went to try it on.

When she stepped out of the changing room, Asher went still.

The dress hugged her figure perfectly, accentuating the curve of her stomach and the glow of her skin. Her hair was loosely pinned up, and she looked ethereal, otherworldly.

Asher's breath hitched. Audrey’s eyes dropped immediately. She was becoming nervous. No man had ever looked at her like that.

“You’re staring,” she mumbled.

“You’re beautiful,” he countered, voice hoarse.

She looked up then, slowly, and he walked toward her. Their hands found each other like magnets. He whispered again, “Beautiful.” as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ears. He let his fingers linger as he kept his gaze on her. 

The tension swirled between them like smoke, until Audrey looked away, heart pounding.

Asher quickly paid without blinking at the price tag, and they left for home. 

~~~

The ride home was quiet, but not awkward. Comfortable. They shared jokes, pointed out absurd billboards, even debated over the best chips flavors. It felt natural.

By the time they arrived at the house, the transactional nature of their relationship had blurred. There was a gentleness to their banter now, a growing thread of companionship winding through it.

She handed him the shopping bags at the door and smiled, sleepy and grateful. “Thanks for today, Asher.”

He didn’t reply. He just touched her back lightly, and for once, she didn’t flinch from it.

~~~

That night, Audrey curled under the duvet, her hand over her belly. The baby kicked once, a tiny flutter beneath her skin. She smiled softly, her eyes drifting close.

And suddenly, she was running.

The woods were dense, the sky black, and owls hooted in the distance, as if aware of the horrors that were in motion. Branches tore at her arms and legs, and she could hear the woman behind her—laughing. Manic. Twisted.

She didn’t know who she was, only that her eyes were piercing and her hair as dark as blood. Only that she was somehow after her life. 

The woman held a knife.

“Keep running, darling,” the woman sang. “But you can’t outrun me.”

Audrey’s lungs burned. Her legs ached. Her screams echoed into the void with no answer. She turned once—bad idea—and slipped over a patch of green moss. Her knees hit the ground. She tried to rise, but the woman was already upon her.

The knife glinted under moonlight.

“I warned him,” the woman whispered and raised the knife about to strike. 

Audrey let out an ear-piercing scream as she jolted awake, drenched in sweat, breath ragged. The room was still dark. Her heart slammed against her ribs.

She frantically checked her surroundings and relaxed when she realized it was just a nightmare. Her heart thudded as she wondered who the unknown woman was, and why she wanted to kill her. 

Thoughts circled around her mind as she clutched her duvet in fear. She rubbed her belly and felt the slight fluttering in her stomach, which immediately brought her peace. But it was soon shattered. 

Ping!

Her phone screen lit up, and her heart left her body again. 

She grabbed it with trembling hands. A message from an unknown number.

It read: "I warned him."

Her breath caught. The phone slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor.