Chapter 3 - The Ice and the Fire
The master suite on the third floor of the Ashbourne manor was an expansive, fortress-like sanctuary of dark walnut, gray wool, and towering panoramic windows overlooking the stormy Atlantic coast. A roaring fireplace cast long, flickering shadows across the room.
Kieran sat Flora in the center of the massive king-sized bed, wrapping a cashmere throw blanket securely around her shoulders. He pulled out his personal phone, dialed three digits, and spoke with razor-sharp precision: "Dr. Evans. Get to the manor immediately. Bring an advanced pediatric trauma kit and facial reconstructive ointment. You have fifteen minutes."
He hung up without waiting for an answer.
Annie stood awkwardly near the hearth, holding an ice pack that one of the maids had handed her in the hallway. Her head was pounding, the side of her skull throbbing with every heartbeat.
"Sit down, Annie," Kieran said, stepping toward her.
"Mr. Ashbourne, I’m fine," she whispered, her voice shaking slightly. "Flora needs you. She’s terrified. I just... I should go back to the carriage house and let you handle this."
"I told you to sit," he repeated, not harshly, but with a commanding gravity that made her knees bend involuntarily onto the leather ottoman before the fire.
Kieran knelt in front of her. The sight of this multi-billionaire titan of industry kneeling on the rug at her feet made Annie’s breath catch in her throat. He gently took the melting ice pack from her fingers, setting it on the side table. Then, with movements so methodical and tender they contrasted wildly with his reputation, he tilted her chin upward.
Annie winced as his thumb brushed near the swelling.
"I’m sorry," he whispered, his silver-blue eyes burning with suppressed violence. "I brought that viper into this house. I allowed her near you. Near my child."
"You couldn't have known," Annie said softly, tears threatening to spill again. "She never acted like that in front of you. Whenever you were home, she was sweet. She brought Flora gifts. But the moment you left for Tokyo last week... she changed. She dismissed the kitchen staff early. She told Flora that you didn't love her because she wasn't a boy, and that once they were married, Flora would be sent to a boarding school in Switzerland."
Kieran went rigidly still. The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees. "She said what?"
"Flora was crying so hard she threw up," Annie continued, her voice breaking. "I couldn't watch it. I bought her the strawberry ice cream to calm her down. When Miranda saw it, she lost her mind. She told me I was undermining her authority. She made Flora stand in the corner of the pantry and watch... while she..."
Annie couldn't finish the sentence. The humiliation, the sudden violence of Miranda’s manicured hands, the metallic taste of blood inside her mouth—it rushed back over her like a tidal wave.
A low, guttural sound rumbled in Kieran’s chest. Without a word, he pulled Annie toward him. His arms wrapped around her slender frame, pulling her head gently against his broad chest. Annie froze in pure shock. In the six months she had worked for him, Kieran Ashbourne had maintained an ironclad, strictly professional boundary. He was a widower; his wife had passed away giving birth to Flora, and he had buried his heart in the grave beside her.
Yet right now, his heartbeat was hammering against Annie’s cheek—heavy, furious, and protective.
"No one will ever touch you again," Kieran murmured into her hair, his hand pressing firmly against her back. "I swear to you on my daughter’s life, Annie. Miranda Wells and her entire bloodline will pay for every single strike."
On the bed, Flora sniffled and crawled toward them, extending her tiny arms to wrap around both Annie’s neck and her father’s shoulder. The three of them remained there by the fire, an island of warmth amidst a brewing war.
Downstairs, the front gates buzzed violently.
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Edward’s voice crackled through Kieran’s earpiece: *"Sir, we have an issue. Julian Wells just rammed his Mercedes through the outer checkpoint. He’s brought private security. He wants his daughter’s jewelry back—and he wants Annie arrested for assault."*
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