MasukSerena In the car, I spoke before he could settle into silence."I'd like you to stay at the Ashford mansion," I said. "For now, rather than the Lawrence property." I kept my tone easy, warm — the tone of someone extending family. "We've barely had time to talk. I'd like us to know each other better."He looked at me and I could see him processing it — working out whether this was genuine or a move. He landed on genuine because that was what he wanted to believe, and people generally believe what they want to."Of course," he said. "Thank you, Serena."A few minutes passed. Then, with the careful casualness of someone who had rehearsed it: "The company structure is quite complex. I was going through some of the documents you gave me. The financial division — how does it sit relative to the main board? Is it autonomous or does it report up?" He asked curiously.I looked out the window at the passing city."Fairly standard structure," I said pleasantly. And then I gave him twenty minut
Serena My father's mansion sat at the end of a long private road behind iron gates that still carried his initials in the metalwork. The drive leading up to it was lined with the same trees he had planted thirty years ago, now tall and certain of themselves.Inside, everything was exactly as he had left it.Ten maids rotated through the rooms in quiet shifts, maintaining every surface, every arrangement, every small detail as though the owner was simply away on a long trip and expected to return before anything had time to gather dust. Four guards held the perimeter. Fresh flowers in the entrance hall — white, unscented, because my father said colour in flowers was vanity. I had always thought that was an odd thing for a man to believe. Now standing in his entrance hall, I thought it was just one of many odd things I would never get answers to.Daniel walked through each room slowly.I stayed back. Watched from doorways. Said nothing.In the study he touched the desk with his fingert
SerenaI was deep in a contract review when I heard a knock on the door."Come in."The door opened and a young woman stepped in. She wore a neat uniform, composed expression, and carrying a bag that announced itself before she even crossed the room. The smell hit me first — warm, rich, the kind that didn't come from any ordinary kitchen.She set it carefully on the edge of my desk and straightened."Good afternoon, ma'am. My name is Clara. I'm from Maison Forty." She folded her hands in front of her. "Mr. Ashford sent this for you."What!I looked at the bag. Then I sat back in my chair and smiled in spite of everything the day had already asked of me."Thank you, Clara. You can go."She left without another word and I sat there for a moment, looking at the bag. Maison Forty was not the kind of place you called on short notice. It was the kind of place that had a three month waiting list for a dinner reservation. It was the kind of place heads of state ate at when they wanted to be
Serena Lawrence Global rose up ahead of us as the car turned into the business district.We went in through the main entrance.The lobby staff straightened when they saw me. The receptionist at the front desk stood, and there was a small ripple of acknowledgement that moved through the room the way it always did — a subtle shift, people becoming more conscious of their posture, their expression, their proximity to whatever I was doing.I had learned to move through it without slowing down.I walked with Daniel through the lobby, into the lift, and up to the boardroom floor. My assistant met me in the corridor — tablet in hand, already talking. I listened and gave instructions without breaking stride.The board meeting was already assembled when we walked in.Twelve people around a long table. Suits, careful expressions, the particular quality of attention that people give when they're trying to read a room before committing to any position within it.I took my place at the head of
SerenaI woke up slowly.Not the sharp, sudden kind of waking that came with bad dreams or an early alarm. This was the soft kind — the kind where consciousness arrives gently, like light coming in under a door. Gradual and warm.Ethan's arm was around me.His chest rose and fell against my back in the steady rhythm of someone still half-asleep, his breath warm against the back of my neck. His hand was open against my stomach — not holding, just resting. Like even in sleep he wanted to know I was there.I lay still for a moment and just let myself feel it.This. Him. The quiet of the early morning before the world remembered to be complicated.I turned carefully, slowly, not wanting to pull him out of sleep too quickly. He stirred anyway — he always did when I moved, like some part of him was always partly alert, always keeping track of me even in rest.His eyes opened. Heavy-lidded, dark, finding mine immediately."Morning," he said. His voice was rough with sleep, lower than usual.
Ethan It took time.More than I would have liked.Rex worked through the night — I brought him coffee twice and he barely acknowledged it. The process was delicate. You couldn't move on something like this with force or speed, not without alerting whoever was on the other side. Every approach had to look routine. Every purchase had to look like market activity.He built the counter-structure first — two layers deep, clean and fresh, nothing that could be tied back to Ashford Holdings or to me. Then he began making contact through intermediaries. Quiet offers. Generous ones.The first response came back with a counter.Rex looked at me. I told him to accept it.The second came back with silence for forty minutes, and then an acceptance.The third took the longest, nearly two hours of back and forth through layers of representatives who didn't know who they were representing. Rex was patient. I paced.At half past one in the morning, he leaned back in his chair and let out a long breat
Ethan AshfordI walked into my office building, my mind racing faster than my feet.The security guards bowed as I passed, but I barely noticed. My secretary, James, rushed toward me with a tablet in his hand."Sir, you have three meetings this afternoon and...""Cancel them," I said, cutting him o
Marcus I grabbed my briefcase and stormed out of the building.My driver opened the car door, and I got in, slamming it shut behind me."Home, sir?" he asked."Just drive," I snapped.He nodded quickly and started the car.I leaned back in my seat, my hands clenched into fists.Twenty percent.How
SerenaMy heart pounded so hard I thought Ethan could hear it.He stared at me like I had just grown two heads. His blue eyes were wide with shock, his mouth slightly opened.Yeah, maybe I have lost my mind. But I don't care. As long as I get Ethan Ashford to marry me and humiliate the Wellington f
Ethan Ashford I woke up with a headache.It was sharp and heavy, and it stayed even after I sat up.I didn’t sleep well. I rarely did, but this time it was worse.I rubbed my temples. My phone buzzed on the nightstand. Messages. Calls. Updates.I ignored them.I got out of bed and went straight to







