Chapter 41 How to Deal with It
Reverse psychology didn't work on Ashley.
She didn’t even acknowledge it, simply striding into the ladies' restroom with purposeful steps.
Returning to the city she knew so well, Ashley was bound to bump into familiar faces. Whether it was people she adored or detested, or the inevitable awkward exchanges that followed, it was all par for the course. After all, as a lawyer looking to make a name for herself, dealing with the city's power players was inevitable; guys like Christian Brin, Hayden, and Damian...
Only by mingling with the likes of them could she hope to rake in the real bucks.
After washing her hands, Ashley splashed some water on her face. The shock of the cold water cleared the haze in her head from the lingering cold. Staring at her reflection, she noticed the red veins in her eyes and mentally chided herself, "Ashley, who do you think you are with this high and mighty act? Can you eat your pride? Will it stop the debt collectors from hounding your parents or keep them safe from legal troubles back home? Do you even have the right to be so self-righteous?"
Once upon a time, she was the apple of her parents' eye. When had she ever bowed her head or acted subservient?
But now...
She was starting to regret her previous arrogance. Did she really think she had the clout to stand up to a heavyweight like Christian?
Then again, if she played her cards right, she might just land some lucrative legal work from his company.
"Are you out of your mind, Ashley? You're really considering living off the scraps from his table?" Ashley’s thoughts were a whirlwind, and she was so preoccupied that she didn't notice someone else at the sink next to her.
Damian washed his hands meticulously, then took a paper towel to dry off any remaining moisture. "What are you looking at?"
Ashley couldn't shake the feeling that she'd somehow offended the gods of fates themselves today, crossing paths with all sorts of fiends and apparitions.
"I thought you usually holed up in the Emperor's Room. What, the toilet's broken in there?"
Getting rid of the used towel, Damian's freshly cleaned hands were long and elegant. He adjusted his wristwatch and casually commented, "It's being occupied for... matters."
"Matters," that one word was loaded with implication in her mind.
Her ears burned, perhaps overheating from the scenarios she'd inadvertently concocted, which, unfortunately, included the daydream from their last encounter.
Damian didn't miss the subtle change in her. Fixing her face with his gaze, he said, "Don't act like some naive teenager, as if there's anything you haven't seen."
His tone was that of a man certain of his facts.
Looking up, Ashley pulled a paper towel to dry her hands as she retorted, "I just feel sorry for those girls, thinking they've met Mr. Right or some diamond-in-the-rough bachelor. They are sure to find out the hard way he's just a playboy, romancing countless others. While they wait at home, full of longing, he's out there, new arm candies every night."
Hayden was tied up with something else for a little while longer, and Damian, unlike Christian, didn't find gossip to be such a tacky delight, so he wasn't in a rush to depart. Leaning against the sink, he softened his focus on Ashley. "So misanthropic. Have you ever wondered why certain ladies will stop at nothing to be close to the wealthy? If one really wanted a nice, average Joe, she could easily find a match in her own neighborhood; mortgage, car payments, the whole nine yards."
"People aiming high can't be faulted, can they?" Ashley countered. "They work hard, study, land jobs, and hustle non-stop. But when push comes to shove, they can't overthrow the powerful elite with just their bare hands. The capitalists can derail their efforts with just a word. Meanwhile, the well-connected climb on the backs of their failures, making even dream of owning a place in the city a pipe dream."
Damian, twirling an unlit cigarette between his fingers, realized he'd left his lighter behind. "Chasing dreams out of one's reach has its price within one's means. Spend a night and snag a ticket to the top, people would kill for that shot."
Ashley clenched her teeth. Their values were worlds apart; she shouldn't have bothered reasoning with him.
"Don’t paint all women with the same superficial brush. And just so you know, I'm aware of the type the so-called elite are after. Young, naïve, easily swept off their feet by trifling favors, like puppets on a string. It’s not about helping their victims win in a significant way; it's deception, plain and simple. Even if the law doesn't clearly punish them, I believe in karma."
Damian scoffed, his sardonic laughter betraying his scorn. "A few years of law studies and you see yourself as Lady Justice, huh? You think you know what 'karma' even is? There's no savior taking care of you every day. To stay on top and play above the rules, or even have a say, you gotta have power."
The hallway was silent, each private room a separate world of revelry, sealed away with the close of a door, its madness contained within.
Just like that, Ashley suddenly realized she and Damian had never truly been in sync, not even in close proximity. A chasm lay between them, unreachable and vast.
Their marriage was doomed to fail.
Why bother speaking wisdom to the willfully ignorant? Wasted words.
"Those who trade their bodies for a future are in the minority. Most rise from the bottom up on their own talent and tenacity. Maybe they move slowly, but they're steady, they sleep at peace. Whatever your worldview of success is, to me, it's about living better than before, surpassing oneself; that’s success, not everyone's born with a silver spoon."
That was a stab at Damian and his kind, so haughty, looking down on others, as if their only skill was being born lucky.
Damian's gaze drifted, lingering on her lips as they moved.
Feeling his piercing eyes, Ashley snapped, "What are you staring at?"
Damian said, "I thought you'd come a long way since the Astor Group went belly up."
Ashley ground her teeth and scoffed.
"Earn your stripes, climb the ladder? That sort of thinking is exactly why the 80/20 rule exists, wealth and power forever clutched in the hands of the few," Damian tapped his temple and continued, "Use your head. Ever wonder why some toil their whole lives and can barely fill their stomachs, while others sit back in their office sipping coffee?"
Fuming, Ashley shot back, "Damian, does your firm run a business school now? Are you a professor? How much for a lecture? Maybe I should rally everyone to attend your seminars."
Damian looked down, leaning on the sink with one hand, the other holding a cigarette behind her, encircling her in a half embrace, "You think money is what I lack?"
His sudden proximity left Ashley with no escape, forced to breathe in his crisp scent, which was a powerful blend of tobacco and Tahitian fragrance. "Oh? Does Damian enjoy aesthetics? Every day, a fresh face? Even so, are you able to keep up? You can't possibly go without your daily dose of 'enhancement supplements,' can you?"
Her illness hadn't yet subsided; her face was pale, her gaze weary. Her lashes were soft and tender, shadowing the fire that blazed from within. Beneath her petite nose, her lips were a pale pink. She was smiling, revealing an even set of teeth.
With one arm, Damian pulled her against his chest, "Ashley, how are we dealing with that sharp tongue of yours?"
