Chapter 4 The House Is No Longer Yours

My phone buzzed in the dead of night. I'd gotten a message from Cyrus.

"Ms. Ashwood, a gentleman is willing to buy your house, but he'd like to inspect it before signing the contract. Would that be convenient for you?"

I wiped the tears from my face and took a deep breath. I didn't even think twice as I replied, "That's fine. Anytime tomorrow works for me."

…

My father and Kellan took Damian to the amusement park bright and early the next morning.

I messaged Cyrus as soon as they were out of sight.

A black SUV pulled up outside the building less than 30 minutes later.

A man in his 40s stepped out. He was dressed in a sharp suit and followed by two men who looked like his assistants.

Cyrus introduced him as Elliot Nova, a businessman in the construction materials industry who had been looking for a house in the neighborhood.

I gave them a quick tour.

Elliot seemed quite pleased with the place. As he stood on the balcony to take in the sights, he smiled and said, "I especially like the layout and your choice of decor. They're pretty unique. Could I move in right away if we sign the contract today?"

I smiled and nodded, signing the contract without hesitation.

He paid the entire $3 million in cash, so I handed him the keys.

I hurried back inside and packed a few things. My phone rang just as I was about to leave. I'd gotten a call from an unfamiliar number.

"Am I speaking with Ms. Freya Ashwood? Your father has a bill of exactly $13,000 at our restaurant. He says it should be charged to your account. Would you be able to settle the bill now?"

I scoffed. "I'm sorry, but I'm under no obligation to pay their bills."

I hung up right after that.

In the end, my father had no choice but to pay with his credit card.

Sure enough, he called to berate me less than ten minutes later.

"Freya! Are you asking for trouble? Get the hell out if you don't want to live in this family anymore! And don't ever come back! It's just as well. Kellan can use the house as his marital home. His date is coming over soon. So, hurry up, pack your things, and get out!"

I almost burst out laughing at his audacity.

I'd worked my butt off saving up to buy that house. So, why the hell should I give it to Kellan as his marital home?

The whole thing was absurd.

Still, I kept my expression neutral and agreed without a fuss. "Fine. I'm leaving right now."

I hung up just as Elliot's belongings arrived, packed in bags and boxes and delivered by a moving crew.

I exchanged a few words with him, grabbed my luggage, and walked out.

…

Meanwhile, Kellan sounded puzzled as he spoke to my father. "Dad, what's gotten into Freya today? She agreed way too easily."

My father snorted. "What's she going to do, refuse? I raised her to support you. That house belongs to you! You're the only son in the Ashwood family!"

"True…" Kellan paused. However, his tone quickly brightened. "So, Dad, should I bring Lily over now? She's waiting at the mall."

"Go on! Pick her up and bring her over to see the house. Mrs. Thorne says she's a good catch. Your marriage might as well be a done deal if she finds the house to her liking."

…

A cab pulled up at the entrance to the complex 40 minutes later.

Kellan jumped out first and hurried to open the back door, helping a young woman in a dress out of the car.

"This neighborhood looks a little run-down," Lily murmured, frowning as she looked around.

"Older buildings have their advantages! You get more usable space!"

My father got out of the front passenger seat with Damian in his arms, a broad smile plastered across his face.

"It's 1,300 square feet, way better than those tiny shoebox apartments people build these days! You should come in and take a look at it. My daughter spent a fortune renovating it. I'm sure you'll love it."

When they arrived at the fourth floor, my father grinned as he pulled out his keys and slid one into the lock.

Unfortunately, his keys refused to budge no matter how hard he tried.

He bent down to inspect the keyhole when the door suddenly swung open from the inside.

A sharply dressed man stood there, a cigarette held between his fingers. "Who are you looking for?"

My father stood frozen, his mouth hanging open.