Chapter 3: Stay With Me Tonight?
1200 Words
Chapter 3: Stay With Me Tonight?
(Author's POV)
The massive crystal chandelier overhead did little to chase away the shadows clinging to the hallway corners of the Ashford estate. Faye gripped Dominic's suit sleeve tightly. Her eyes darted around the unfamiliar space.
"It's so dark here, Dominic," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't like it."
Dominic didn't look at her. He gestured to a servant standing nearby.
"Put Ms. Carter in the guest room," Dominic ordered. "She will be staying here. If she needs anything, tell the butler."
He turned on his heel to leave.
Faye lunged forward and grabbed his hand. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She placed her other hand gently over her flat stomach.
"Dom, please," she begged softly. "Stay with me tonight? I'm scared. The baby... the baby misses his father already."
She knew exactly which buttons to push.
Dominic's back stiffened. For a second, he hesitated, his silhouette rigid against the dim light.
But he didn't turn around. He pulled his hand from her grip, his movement cold and detached.
"I have work to handle," he said.
He walked away without looking back.
The heavy wooden door clicked shut.
The fear vanished from Faye's face instantly. Her expression hardened into something cold and calculating. She scanned the luxurious guest room, her eyes narrowing as she took in the silk drapes and imported furniture.
She knew Caroline had walked these halls. Caroline had lived in this luxury.
"Loser." Faye sneered at the empty room.
She walked to the mirror and smoothed her dress.
"You will never beat me," she muttered.
Let the old woman and the rest of them hate her. It didn't matter. She touched her stomach again.
This child was her golden ticket. The Ashfords cared about bloodlines more than anything. Once the baby was born, they would have to open the gates for her.
---
Dominic sat in his study, staring at a stack of documents.
A young, trembling maid set a cup of black tea on his desk. Dominic picked up the delicate bone china cup and took a sip.
He frowned immediately. It was bitter. It had steeped too long.
"This is terrible," Dominic said, setting the cup down with a clatter. "Where is Mrs. Henderson? She knows how I take my tea."
The young maid shrank back. "Mrs. Henderson... she left, sir."
Dominic's eyes narrowed. "Left?"
"She went with the former Mrs. Ashford," the maid stammered. "She went with Caroline."
Dominic felt a spike of irritation. "How did Caroline leave?"
"It was raining," the maid whispered, looking at her shoes. "She just... walked out into it."
Dominic went silent.
The maid hesitated, then added, "But... my friend works at the Lowells estate. She said..."
"Said what?" Dominic snapped.
"She said they threw a huge party last night," the maid said quickly. "Champagne and music. To celebrate Caroline being single again."
The air in the study dropped twenty degrees. Dominic waved his hand sharply to dismiss the girl. She scurried out.
Dominic leaned back in his leather chair, his jaw tight.
He remembered Caroline's face from that morning. Pale. Desperate. Broken.
And now she was partying?
He grabbed his phone and opened i********:. His thumb hovered over the search bar before typing her name.
There it was. A new post.
Caroline stood on a balcony, wearing a stunning high-couture gown. She held a glass of champagne, her smile bright and untouchable.
The caption was simple: *Upgraded.🥂*
Dominic squinted at the screen. A fire ignited in his chest.
She begged him to marry her, but now she seems relieved?
Thump. Thump.
The sound of a cane striking the floor hard echoed from the hallway.
The study door flew open. Eleanor Ashford marched in. She wore an impeccable white suit and bright red lipstick that looked like war paint.
"Do you actually have the nerve to sit there and read?" Eleanor shouted.
Dominic stood up. "Grandmother."
"Don't 'Grandmother' me," she snapped. "I go away for a week, and you divorce your wife? And then you bring that trash into my house?"
She pointed her cane at the door. "Get her out. Now."
Dominic kept his face calm. "Faye is pregnant."
Eleanor froze. "What?"
"She is carrying my child," Dominic said.
Eleanor stared at him. She looked for a lie in his face, but found none. Her shoulders slumped slightly, but the anger didn't leave her eyes.
"You fool," she hissed. "You have no idea what you've lost."
She walked to the window, looking out at the rain-slicked driveway.
"I went to the Lowells' house," Eleanor said quietly. "Richard wouldn't even let me in the gate. He said his daughter is done suffering for an Ashford."
She turned back to Dominic, her gaze steel.
"Listen to me closely, Dominic," she said. "This family might acknowledge that blood, if it's truly yours. But we will never acknowledge that woman."
She walked to the door and paused.
"In my heart, the only mistress of this house is Caroline," Eleanor said. "Fix this."
She slammed the door behind her.
(Caroline's POV)
The morning sun reflected off the glass facade of the Lowells Corporation skyscraper.
Our black sedan glided to a stop at the curb. Through the tinted windows, I saw them. A swarm of reporters waited like vultures, cameras ready.
I casually slid my sunglasses onto my face, shielding my eyes. My Hermes Birkin bag rested in the crook of my arm. My father reached over, looking concerned. "Caroline, if you're worried about the stock prices..."
"I don't care about the stocks, Dad," I interrupted, checking my lipstick in the compact mirror. I snapped it shut with a satisfying click. "I just hope Dominic is watching TV right now."
I turned to him and smirked.
"Showtime, Dad."
The driver opened the door. The noise hit us instantly.
"Ms. Lowells!"
"Over here, Caroline!"
"Is it true you were kicked out of the Ashford family?"
"What about Dominic's first love?"
"Are the business ties severed?"
The questions came like bullets. Flashes blinded me for a second. Dad stepped forward, his face darkening with anger, ready to defend me.
But I didn't need defending.
I stepped out of the car before he could say a word. I didn't shrink back. I walked straight into the chaos, my chin held high. The cameras clicked furiously.
I reached up and lowered my sunglasses just enough to look directly into the nearest lens. I didn't look sad. I looked lethal.
"Let's get one thing clear," I said, my voice steady and amused. "I didn't get kicked out. I woke up."
A reporter thrust a microphone closer. "Do you regret the marriage?"
I let out a small chuckle. "Everyone has bad taste at least once in their life. I just used up my quota on a terrible man."
The crowd went silent for a beat.
"But surely you're angry?" another reporter yelled. "She stole your husband."
I looked him in the eye and flashed a dazzling, pitying smile.
"Honey, I didn't lose a husband," I said, loud enough for the cameras to pick up every syllable. "I lost 180 pounds of dead weight and a bad headache."
- Writer
