Chapter 11 Teach You Manners
Ashley felt like storming off, once again on the receiving end of sharp remarks.
Anthony Hearst replied, "You and Trinity haven't seen each other for a good while. Set up a meeting for tomorrow, get along with each other first."
"The least reliable thing is affection," Damian countered. "It's all so ephemeral. Can you guarantee her undying loyalty to me? Even if she can, I can't commit to just one woman. Life is short, and one woman just isn't enough."
Anthony Hearst's face darkened.
He himself had kept mistresses during his marriage and even had a child from the affair, a mess that had yet to be settled even now. And Damian dared to speak so openly about it?
"What do you mean?"
"It's quite simple. Love fades, but shares and assets are tangible. To join forces with the Hearst family, the Bezos need to ante up a significant investment. Consider the resources the Hearsts can offer them; it's no mystery. So, what can the Bezos family give us? To put it bluntly, what they have, I have; what they don’t, I still do. They should be the ones courting my favor."
Anthony Hearst highly valued Damian’s astuteness and strategic savvy, which is why out of all his descendants, he placed his bets on him. But employing such tactics against Anthony himself was certainly not going to win any favors.
Damian continued, "Trinity isn’t that attractive. I see no reason to match her fading beauty with my ever-growing wealth. KM's stature won't be rocked in a century, but she? Give it twenty years, and her prime would have faded. Either way, I'm the one at a loss."
Ashley, listening from the sidelines, felt just unbelievable.
Had Damian made the same calculated considerations before marrying her?
Anthony Hearst, no stranger to such eccentricities, shifted to a calming tone, "Regardless, you’ll meet with Trinity tomorrow. The Hearst-Bezos union is set."
Damian knew how to manage his grandfather’s temperament, avoiding the spark that could set off an explosion, "A meeting is fine, but I'm not responsible for the consequences."
"If you misbehave, I'll teach you a lesson!" he snapped, then turned to Ashley, "And what about you?"
Standing firm in her resolve and choosing a respectable front, she replied, "I am Damian’s attorney."
"Still trying to take money from him after the divorce? Does he really need a disbarred lawyer like you?"
"I'm not short on lawyers, Damian said, but what I need is a living, breathing reminder by my side not to do anything foolish."
The last time Ashley had dinner with Damian was three summers ago. She had just left the courthouse when Thomas called to say he had made reservations at a restaurant.
When she arrived, Damian was already seated, the table graced by a private chef's cuisine with dishes tailored to her palate.
That day, she was overjoyed, "Damian, it smells amazing, thank you for inviting me to this special meal."
Damian disliked when she called him ‘Honey', so it had been a long time since she addressed him that way.
"Come, have a seat," Damian motioned, patting the seat beside him; the chair specially reserved for the lady.
Ashley, beaming, hurried over to take his hand, "Is today some sort of special occasion?"
Damian didn't respond; instead, she was greeted by the unfamiliar faces of two men and two women.
It was a typical business dinner, and Damian played the role of a loving husband, serving her dishes with tender care, asking warmly about her comfort, his eyes filled with adoration.
As Ashley was about to succumb to the effects of the wine, a woman across the table remarked, "Damian, you're so attentive. It's my first time seeing you bring a date."
Damian casually replied, "She's well-behaved."
The underlying message was clear; he had had countless women, but this one stood out for her docility.
Suddenly, the taste in Ashley's mouth became bitter, almost inedible. Their marital status was kept secret from the public eye, yet here Damian was, flaunting her like his mistress in broad daylight, a flavor too complex to describe.
The woman prodded, "If you like her that much, Damian, why not make it official? Don't you want to get married?"
Damian stroked her hand as one would pet an animal. "Why keep one at home when the wild ones are more fun? After a while, she'll get on my nerves, expecting too much. That's the trouble with settling down."
Back then, Ashley smiled foolishly like a little maid subject to orders, embodying docility.
Not anymore!
Splash!
Ashley grabbed a glass of water from the table and poured it over Damian's head, dousing him thoroughly.
Shock silenced the room.
Had Ashley just drenched the young master?
Was Miss Astor out of her mind?
Damian, soaked, looked up belatedly, his face dripping wet, a picture of misery.
Holding the glass, Ashley hesitated. She hadn't anticipated actually acting on her internal rage. In a spur of guilt, she retorted, "Didn't you say you kept me around as a reminder? I'm just making an impression, to prevent any trouble in case you become spellbound by my beauty. Remember this moment, Damian, savor the memory."
Anthony Hearst, livid, grabbed a remote control, ready to throw it. "Ashley, what the hell are you doing?"
Ashley caught the remote. Memories flooded her mind, the threats from Damian’s parents, the cruel jibes of the patriarch, the disparaging servants...
“Having been the mistress of the Hearst household for three years, I acknowledge your family's generosity," Ashley said clearly. "I've served your family with devotion and integrity, never dishonoring the Hearst’s name. The Astor family may have fallen from grace and may not match up to Damian. And if I must go, then so be it. But ask your grandson why he chose me as his lawyer. I suspect he still has feelings for me, though he won't admit it. Perhaps you should inquire on my behalf?"
"Shut up!" Anthony Hearst wouldn't question his grandson in public; Ashley had to be in the wrong. "Do you have any idea how much the Astor family has benefited from the Hearsts? Your lifelong earnings couldn't settle the debt. And you have the nerve to talk about devotion and effort?"
Ashley gave a bitter smile. "Oh, wonderful. The patriarch has finally got that off his chest after all these years. Feel better now?"
What she wanted to say, at that moment, was that everything the Astor family had taken, she would pay back, to the last penny.
But she lacked the strength and the confidence. Anthony's words were rough, but they weren’t without merit.
"Let's not forget our divorce terms. It was clear. No entanglements from then on. It’s your precious grandson who's been hounding me for favors. You think I enjoy setting foot in this place?"
Ashley turned the tables. "The Hearsts, a noble family in Rochester, a family that I thought of that with such status, they would be above pettiness. To see two grown men bully a single woman is not embarrassing for me, but for you, it’s downright awkward."
Damian leisurely wiped his face with a tissue and stood up. "Apologize."
Ashley's head stiffly turned halfway. "What?"
Damian’s tone remained steady, as if giving instructions to a maid. "Apologize to Grandpa."
Ashley let out an incredulous laugh. "Wow. You’re so considerate."
Damian's grip was strong; with one hand, he forced Ashley's wrist to release the remote. For the third time, he said, "I'm giving you one last chance to apologize."
Ashley knocked a glass on the coffee table. "Damian, we're no longer married. Don't talk to me like that. We may be collaborators, but that doesn't include personal attacks."
"The Hearst family doesn't tolerate such disrespect to their elders. You need to apologize for your behavior," Damian insisted. "And don't make me teach you manners."
