On A Good Morning

Asher had a usual routine of spending nights at the office. After giving Chloe her gift, he didn’t return until early hours of the morning, just in time for breakfast. He freshened up and joined Catherine at the table, just as Dahlia began serving their meals.

"Good morning, sir and ma’am," Dahlia greeted warmly, setting their plates down.

Asher acknowledged her with a curt nod, as was his habit.

But Catherine, on the other hand, surprised Dahlia.

“Good morning, Dahlia. How was your night?” she asked sweetly.

Dahlia froze, her hand hovering midair as she was about to place a glass of orange juice on Catherine's table. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

This was strange. In the entire year she had worked here, Catherine had never once replied to her greetings. Not once.

But she quickly brushed the thought aside. Maybe Catherine woke up on the right side of the bed today.

“My night was great. Thank you for asking,” Dahlia replied kindly, setting the glass of orange juice on the table.

"No, thank you," Catherine said warmly, placing a gentle hand on Dahlia’s arm. "Thank you for your services and for all you've done for us."

She smiled, but the warmth didn’t reach her eyes, a subtle hint of deception in her words. Even Asher seemed taken aback by her sudden performance.

He cleared his throat, drawing the attention back to himself. "Is Chloe up yet? I want to see her before I leave for the office."

"I’m not sure. I’ll go check on her," Dahlia replied, giving a slight bow before she turned and went upstairs to get Chloe.

Halfway up the staircase, Dahlia met Chloe, still in her pajamas. After a brief exchange of greetings, Dahlia gave her a pointed look.

“Yes, I brushed my teeth,” Chloe replied with a grin.

Dahlia let out a soft chuckle, and together they headed to the dining table.

“Good morning, Dad. Good morning, Aunt Catherine,” Chloe greeted cheerfully.

Catherine, engrossed in her phone, offered Chloe a distracted smile, while Asher set down his cutlery and replied, “Good morning, princ—” He stopped abruptly, his brow furrowing as he noticed something amiss.

“Chloe, where’s your necklace?” he asked politely, though his voice carried a hint of concern.

“Oh, it’s right he—” Chloe touched her neck, her expression shifting to confusion when she didn’t feel the necklace. “I had it on when I went to bed,” she said, frowning.

Dahlia interjected hesitantly, “I… I actually took it off for her. I put it back in the case. I’ll go get it.”

She hurried upstairs and quickly returned with the necklace case in hand.

She opened the case, but the necklace was nowhere to be found. A gasp escaped Catherine’s lips as she set down her phone, her attention now fully on the scene. Panic began to set in on Dahlia’s face.

“I-I-I put it in here before I left Chloe’s room,” Dahlia stammered, fear filling her eyes.

“Then where is it?” Catherine demanded, her voice sharp.

“Maybe… it’s in the bedside drawer. I must have forgotten that I put it there,” Dahlia hesitated, her voice trembling.

Asher’s gaze sharpened, his eyes now fixed on her with quiet intensity. Dahlia scanned the room, her hands trembling slightly under the weight of their scrutiny.

“Well then, go get it,” Catherine instructed, her tone clipped and commanding.

Dahlia gave a quick nod and rushed up the stairs. She opened Chloe’s bedside drawer, but the necklace still wasn’t there. Panic flowed through her much harder, making her hands tremble even more. Her breathing grew ragged and rapid as she began to ransack the room.

“Where is it, for God’s sake?” she muttered aloud, her voice filled with desperation as she searched the room.

Five minutes later, she descended the stairs, her steps hesitant as she approached the dining room.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I couldn’t find it,” she said, her voice quivering.

“What do you mean by that?” Asher asked, his tone calm but laced with a subtle edge.

Dahlia hesitated, tears welling up in her eyes. “I… I put the necklace back in the box. I swear. I don’t know how it got out.”

“So, you’re saying the necklace grew wings and flew?” Catherine inquired, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“No, I…”

“You what? You stole it?” Catherine pressed, her green eyes filled with scorn as she glared at Dahlia.

“Miss Dahlia would never steal!” Chloe interjected boldly, standing up for her caretaker.

Catherine turned to her with a sharp look. “Chloe, this is an adult matter. Please don’t interfere. Besides, you’re too young to understand people’s true personalities.”

Chloe clenched her fists but remained silent, her face flushed with frustration.

Catherine turned back to Dahlia, her gaze cold. “Fine. If you didn’t steal the necklace, then where is it?”

“I… I don’t know, ma’am,” Dahlia whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek.

Catherine let out a dramatic sigh before turning to Asher. “Asher, do something.”

Asher cleared his throat, his voice calm yet firm. “Miss Dahlia Reigns, you know the number one rule when working for me: under no circumstances are you allowed to take what doesn’t belong to you—whether from me or your fellow coworkers. If you’re facing any financial problems, you know you can always come to me. I provide for all of you. So, I’m going to ask you nicely—did you take the necklace?”

“I didn’t steal the necklace, sir. I swear,” Dahlia replied, shaking her head emphatically, her voice trembling.

“Fine, then. You wouldn’t mind if we searched your belongings?” Catherine interjected smoothly, her eyes dancing with delight.

Dahlia nodded vehemently, desperation in her every movement. “Yes. Yes! If that will prove my innocence, you’re free to search my belongings. In fact, I’ll go bring my bag from the quarters.”

“No, no. Let someone else do it,” Catherine said, signaling to one of the three maids standing off to the side, watching the entire exchange unfold.

The maid nodded and quickly went to the quarters, retrieving Dahlia’s work bag. She handed it to Catherine, who stepped closer to Dahlia, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Now, for the moment of truth,” Catherine announced, unzipping the bag with deliberate slowness. Then, with a dramatic flair, she overturned it, spilling its contents onto the floor.

Chloe’s necklace was the last item to fall out.

A collective gasp filled the room as Dahlia stared in disbelief. “No… no…” she muttered, shaking her head frantically in denial.

Catherine bent down, picked up the necklace, and held it up triumphantly for Asher to see.

His eyes widened in disbelief. "You lied to me?" Asher asked, his voice heavy with disappointment.

"No, sir! I swear I don't know how it got into my bag. Please, believe me!" Dahlia rushed to explain, her voice cracking.

"How dare you!" Catherine hissed before slapping Dahlia hard across the face.

"Dahlia!" Chloe cried out, banging her small hands on the table. "Don't hit her!”

"She deserves it, Chloe. She's a thief and a liar!" Catherine snapped, her green eyes blazing with anger.

"No! Please, I would never steal. Someone must have done this to me," Dahlia pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks as she held onto her aching face.

"Are you trying to blame someone else for your crime?" Catherine scoffed, her tone dripping with scorn.

"I-I didn't put the necklace in my bag. I left it-" Dahlia tried to explain, but Asher raised a hand to silence her.

“Enough!” His voice boomed, silencing the room. He took a deep breath, his chest rising before he continued.

“I tried to be nice. I tried to be patient. I gave you more than enough time to tell the truth yourself. I even let you know that if you were going through financial difficulties, I would offer my help. But instead, you chose to lie to me. If you had admitted upfront that you took the necklace, I wouldn’t be as angry as I am now. But you wasted my time and my trust. And to think I once saw you as a good person.”

“I told you, Asher. It was only a matter of time,” Catherine interjected smugly.

Asher hesitated, his gaze heavy with disappointment as he turned back to Dahlia. “It seems… you were right. And going by the house rules, which you have clearly violated, I’m afraid I have no choice.” He paused before delivering the final blow. “Miss Dahlia Reigns, you’re fired.”