Library Ashford Novels & Stories

And this time, Kaelen sat in the driver's seat and watched it all without stopping her. The car started, disappearing into the night with my painful memories. I closed the door and leaned against the wall. Thirteen years. Our bond was over, just like that. And he had been a liar from the start. Two days later, a gold-embossed invitation arrived at my office. "You are cordially invited to the Luna Ceremony and Wedding of Mr. Kaelen Blackwood and Miss Seraphina Collins." I stared at the photo of them in a loving embrace on the invitation, and the last shred of warmth in my heart died.

Commander Vance shouted, gesturing for us to alight into the icy courtyard. As my boots hit the stone pavement, my heart hammered violently against my ribs. Returning to this estate felt like stepping back into a nightmare I had bled so hard to escape. Every archway, every stone pillar whispered memories of the years I had spent scrubbing floors, enduring cruel insults, and being treated as a worthless outcast simply because I couldn't shift into a wolf. "Vanessa?" A booming, raw voice echoed across the courtyard, cutting through the chaos. Alpha Ashford stood near the grand steps of the pack house, his military tactical vest unbuttoned, his face pale and worn with sheer exhaustion. He froze

she is at a loss for words. He is not offering her a job, he is not giving her a choice. He already decided for her that she is working for him. "What? You want to try in some other company?" he asked when she didn't reply. He is still typing in his keyboard, and not looking at her. If he did, then he would have noticed her expression of nostalgia. The Ashford group is one of the leading groups in this industry. It is sitting comfortably in the number one position. Despite several companies trying to take that top position, but so far, no one could shake the Ashford group. And Leo is a very powerful person in CRAFTSVILE. No one can stand against him.

By the time the gala ended, Natalie had spoken to key investors, secured three major partnership invitations, and signed off on a new charity initiative—Ashes to Empires, a foundation supporting women rebuilding their lives after public scandal, divorce, or abuse. It wasn’t just a name. It was her truth. And now it was her mission. As her car pulled away from the Grantham Hotel, Natalie looked out at the glittering skyline. She didn’t need Adrian’s approval. She didn’t need society’s forgiveness. She had herself. And that was more than enough.

I blurted out, finally recalling where I’d heard that name before. The Ashfords were mortal rivals of Chase. I remembered how many times Chase would curse the Ashfords, claiming they had allegedly purchased shares to overthrow his company. And every time he got stressed over it, I would comfort him with hot soup and soft words. Now, I completely cringe at that memory. Wasted effort. On a toxic man. I’m just glad the alcohol is calming my nerves, keeping me from feeling hurt. “You know, the one with tattoos and long dark hair… that’s Maximilian Ashford,” Penny continued. “He’s a hardcore player in Manhattan’s elite circles. All he does is party and do drugs.”

Who? Leaning back, the older man whirled his glass to let the tension relax. Then he continued, knowingly smiling, "Ashford Holdings." The chamber seemed to get smaller. The name felt to Damon like a tangible force slamming on his chest. Ashond. His fingers stilled. Though his pulse was a riot under his skin, his breath came gently, under control. The name kept coming back to him, conjuring images of gold-brown hair, keen hazel eyes, and a voice once whispered his name with something like affection.

I walked toward the study and pushed the heavy oak doors. Inside, Mr Ashford was perched on the edge of his desk. He was wearing a white two-piece lounge set—a cashmere-blend hoodie and matching joggers. The sleeves were pushed up to his veiny forearms, revealing a Rolex that looked like it cost more than my education. He looks like he's posing for a magazine, and I'm trying not to sweat through my shirt. Sharon was there, too, pacing. She looked like a gray-and-red thundercloud in a tight pencil skirt and a blouse that matched her fiery hair.

"I would rather watch my own wolf wither than bow to a traitor’s whim. Try to break me again, Jordyn, and I promise you’ll be the one howling in the dirt." The memory of House Ashford—once the most feared lineage in the Cheshire Territory before the fall—seemed to bleed through the air. I saw the tremor in Jordyn’s hand. She knew the legends. We didn't just design the steel for the National Wolf League; we forged the silver that could drop a rogue Alpha at a hundred paces.

"Ahh, I won't let you get away with this!" Larissa spoke up, "If you want to suffer less, start talking. I've suspected something was off with you for a while. "The Ashfords used to be a renowned family in the Secret Realm, but it has been incurring losses for the past 20 years. If Perry hadn't audited the accounts, we wouldn't have realized that the Ashfords were essentially a shell." This was the real reason behind Larissa's aggressive approach toward Alma. Larissa's instincts were rarely wrong, and something about Alma seemed off.

Rain poured down in sheets. The night was thick and dark. Ashford Corporation officially entered bankruptcy liquidation. Richard Ashford was taken away by the police on charges of corporate fraud. Every mansion, every luxury car bearing the Ashford name was seized by court order. Julian Ashford, drenched to the bone, stumbled his way to the black wrought-iron gates of the Holloway estate. Wind and rain lashed his face -- the face that had once radiated invincibility. He carried no umbrella. His clothes clung to his frame. His knees buckled, and with a heavy thud, he dropped straight down into the mud outside the gates.