Chapter 9: Ashes of Regret

Adam stirred slowly as the first fingers of dawn filtered through the glass windows, golden rays piercing into his half-closed eyes.

He squinted, groaned faintly, then stretched his arms across the bed.

Turning to his side, his heart skipped.

There lay Barbra - naked, the blanket drawn lazily over her waist, leaving the rest of her body carelessly displayed. The curves of her form glowed in the morning light, seductive and bare.

For a brief moment, something strange washed over Adam.

Peace.

A sense of calm he hadn’t known for a long time. His eyes lingered, his fingers itching to trace the warm skin beside him.

He felt the pull of temptation whispering to him, urging him closer.

But the peace was poisoned almost immediately.

The memories of Celine came crashing into his mind.

His jaw tightened as he pulled his hand back like it had touched fire.

“Fuck!” The word escaped him almost as a growl, loud enough to jolt Barbra from her sleep.

She blinked, her eyes fluttering open. Her voice came out soft, laced with concern. “Hey… you okay?”

Adam shook his head, his chest heaving. “Nothing is okay,” he muttered. His voice grew sharper. “This... what happened between us last night, it isn’t okay at all. It should never have happened.”

Barbra sat up quickly, dragging the blanket to cover her bare chest.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, then softened, as if pleading with him. “Adam, come on. What we had last night was special. Can’t you see it? Don’t talk about it like it’s something to regret.”

Her hand reached for his shoulder, fingers rubbing gently, her touch deliberate and tender.

Adam turned to face her then, his eyes red, burning with regret and anger at himself. “You should get going,” he said coldly.

He rose from the bed, walked to the wardrobe, and began to dress without looking at her. “Come on, Barbra. Dress up and leave.”

Her lips parted in shock. She wanted to argue, to throw herself at him again, but the heaviness in his voice silenced her.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her, clutching her pride as best as she could.

Moments later, Adam came downstairs, fully dressed for work. The living room was quiet, filled only with the faint sounds of the housemaids cleaning.

They greeted him with polite bows. Evelyn was nowhere to be found. He assumed she was still in her room and didn’t bother to ask.

Without another word, he picked up his car keys and left the house.

The compound gates had barely closed behind Adam’s car when two figures emerged from Evelyn’s bedroom upstairs.

Barbra, wrapped in a fresh gown, walked beside Evelyn, both women wearing expressions far from guilt. Adam’s command for her to leave had meant nothing.

Instead of going home, Barbra had tiptoed straight into Evelyn’s room, the woman who was fast becoming more than a mother figure - her ally, her soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Now seated together in the living room, Barbra could hardly contain her excitement. Her laughter spilled freely, her eyes sparkling with triumph.

Evelyn, calm and poised, studied her eagerly.

“Come, my daughter,” Evelyn said with a smile that didn’t reach her calculating eyes. “Sit.”

Barbra obeyed, sliding onto the couch beside her. Her body was still buzzing from the night before.

Every time she remembered Adam’s touch, his weight against her, the sound of his voice when he whispered into her ear, she felt her skin tingle all over again.

Her giggles bubbled up before she could stop them.

Evelyn raised a brow, almost impatient. But before speaking, her sharp eyes flicked around the room. She noticed two housemaids still moving along the hallway, dusting the carved wooden panels.

From the kitchen came the faint clatter of dishes, evidence that the third maid was still working. Evelyn’s lips thinned.

“All of you,” she called, her voice stern and commanding.

The maids froze. One of them dropped the rag she had been holding, startled.

“Take a thirty-minute break. Outside. Now.” Evelyn’s tone was clipped, leaving no space for protest.

The women exchanged glances, bent their knees in respect, and filed away quickly. Shoes shuffled on the tiled floor until the house fell silent, doors closing behind them.

“So,” Evelyn began slowly, her voice low but heavy with intent, “tell me everything.”

Barbra’s cheeks turned rosy as she clasped her hands together. “Mum,” she said softly, her tone brimming with delight, “it was perfect. Everything was just as I imagined.”

Evelyn leaned closer, eyes gleaming. “Don’t waste time. Tell me clearly. How did it go?”

Barbra giggled, covering her mouth with her palm, then leaned in conspiratorially. “I stayed behind like you told me. I played my part well. I went to his room, talked to him, softened him. At first, he resisted, saying it wasn’t right, but I know Adam. He only needed a little push.”

Her voice dropped even lower, proud and triumphant. “And then… I made him fall for me. We finally stepped into the garden of Eden, crushing the fruits together.”

Her words hung in the air, her eyes shining like a girl reliving her first romance.

Then both drifted into laughter.

Evelyn clapped her hands once, satisfaction etched into every line of her face.

“Good. Very good, my daughter. You did well.” Evelyn nodded firmly, pride swelling in her chest. “Finally, we have gotten rid of that bitch, Celine. Finally.”

Barbra’s smile widened. She sat straight, her chest rising proudly. “Yes, Mum. She’s out of his life now. Last night proved it. He might act confused this morning, but he can’t undo what happened. He can’t erase it. He gave himself to me. And that is all that matters.”

Evelyn chuckled darkly, her satisfaction spilling out. “Exactly. That foolish girl thought she could compete with us. But she’s gone, disgraced, forgotten. You are the future, Barbra. The Brooks name will rest on your shoulders now.”

She rose to her feet, her steps graceful and unhurried, and moved toward the bar tucked neatly at the corner of the room.

From the cabinet, she drew out her finest wine, a bottle she rarely touched, one she reserved for victories worth celebrating. Two glasses followed, their rims catching the morning light.

Evelyn poured generously, first into one glass, then the other. The deep red liquid swirled richly, its fragrance filling the air.

She handed the first glass to Barbra, who accepted it eagerly, her hands trembling slightly with excitement.

Evelyn filled her own and raised it.

Barbra took a small sip, her lips curling upward as laughter bubbled out of her again.

She shook her head, eyes twinkling. “Mum, you should have seen Celine’s face that night at the hotel. The way she cried, claiming innocence, begging me to tell Adam the truth. Oh God, it was priceless. You should have seen her eyes when Adam refused to listen.”

Both women burst into laughter, their voices sharp, echoing against the high ceiling of the grand house.

The sound was cruel, triumphant, carrying no trace of pity.

Evelyn lifted her glass higher, her smile triumphant. “To victory,” she whispered.

Barbra mirrored her, her face glowing with joy, her laughter still lingering. She raised her glass with both hands, her voice soft but brimming with childish excitement.

“To my forever happy and romantic days with Adam,” she said, giggling like a child.