“I still have work to finish,” he said. “Go ahead and celebrate with your friends.”
Her excitement returned instantly. “Yes! I can’t wait to tell Donna and Angela. They’ve been anxiously waiting for good news.”
“Then you should go.”
“Of course.” She hesitated, then smiled coyly. “Do you want me to come by your place later? So we can have a proper celebration?”
She winked, playful and suggestive.
His mood darkened.
“The rules still stand, Lynda,” he said bluntly.
She froze, startled. “The lines shouldn’t be crossed—at least not until after the wedding.”
“Oh… of course,” she said quickly, masking her disappointment. “I’ll give you time. Until you’re comfortable. Until you’re ready.”
She smiled once more. “See you.”
She left.
The door closed softly behind her, and the room returned to silence.
Ashton did not move.
The warmth on his cheek faded, replaced by something heavier—something calculated. He turned his chair slowly toward the window, his reflection staring back at him through the glass. Calm. Composed. Untouched by what had just happened.
Lynda believed she had won.
That was necessary.
Every word he had given her, every promise, every carefully measured smile—none of it was meant to last. She was a piece on the board, positioned exactly where he needed her to be. Publicly adored. Socially untouchable. Convenient.
Temporary.
He reached for his phone, scrolling once more to the unread message from Eva. Marie’s passing had already set the wheels in motion. The will. The lawyer. The search for Bailey. All of it unfolding precisely as planned.
Soon, Bailey would be found.
Soon, she would learn what Marie had left behind.
And when she did, she would have no choice but to come back.
Back to the city. Back to the life she ran from. Back to him.
Ashton leaned back, his fingers steepled together, his expression unreadable.
This engagement. This wedding. Even Lynda’s devotion—they were sacrifices he was willing to make.
If this was the price to bring Bailey home, then he would pay it without hesitation.
And this time, he would not let her go.
Chapter 19 – Present Day
ASHTON
I had successfully destroyed two wine glasses and perhaps three or four pieces from a porcelain China set, all of them gifts from my mother. They lay shattered across the floor, casualties of my failed attempt to release the frustration and shock Bailey had dropped on me the day before. I did not trust myself to stay near her any longer, not when my temper was fraying and my thoughts were spiraling toward something reckless and unforgivable.
