Chapter 50 Games Spouses Play
<Chapter>Chapter 50 Games Spouses Play </Chapter>
Damian snuffed out his cigarette and effortlessly grasped Ashley's wrist, almost dragging her to the floor-to-ceiling window.
Outside the window lay the city's bustling downtown filled with high-end office buildings. Nearby stood the city's iconic skyline, its soaring glass structures dazzling in the light, flanked by headquarters of top-tier corporations.
On the streets below, among the gridlock, cars moved like beetles while pedestrians seemed as small as ants. In the blazing sun, sanitation workers swept the sidewalks, people crowded around bus stops, some munching on sandwiches while chatting on their phones. From this high vantage point, life unfolded in all its varied forms, a slice of society laid bare.
Ashley glared at him, "Damian, what the hell are you doing?!" she demanded.
"I'm trying to cure you," Damian retorted, with a piercing intensity. "Showing you how absurd you look, faking self-pity. Pretending to be this innocent victim in front of me when you should be asking yourself why you reaped what you sowed. The Astor Group could have climbed the ranks, but your father's greed and your brother's recklessness led to bankruptcy. Who else is there to blame?"
Tears welled up in Ashley's eyes as she tugged at her restraints, desperate to break free from Damian's firm grip.
"Damian, you sure do know how to show cruelty."
"Some are born in Rome, yet spend their lifetime fearing whether they can keep it. Why?" he quizzed her coldly.
Ashley bit her lip, refusing to cry in front of him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing even a single tear, but they came unbidden, full of indignation. "I don't know!" she snapped, defiant.
There are many paths to Rome, everyone wants a piece of it, a stake in it.
With a forceful grip, Damian pulled her closer, pressing her delicate face against the glass to make her look out at the world. "Miss Astor, stop lamenting the fall of your family's fortunes. Better to spend that energy pondering how you can rise from the rubble and build anew. If you dwell on the past, even the last of what you have will be taken from you."
In a sudden move, Ashley kicked back at Damian, startling both of them with her unexpected agility.
Somehow she had thrown off his hold, "And what right do you have to lecture me? You don't have a clue what I've been through, what my parents have endured. Have you ever shown any concern for me? Asked about my past? Have you even the slightest interest in understanding me?"
With each questioned hurled, she stepped toward him, and now, looking at the man who had winced from her kick, she closed the gap, "I saw the truth three years ago when you cast me aside. I was totally wrong. My mistake was ever falling for you!"
She didn't even give Damian the chance to retort. With a quivering lip that curled into a faint sneer, she said, "You are right about one thing; those born into the legacy of Rome spend their lives guarding their properties, out of fear they'll be plundered. And so, a man as proud as you would marry a woman he doesn't love, reducing the sacred union of marriage to a project. To secure a status bought by trading one’s self. I wonder, Damian, what are your thoughts on that?"
Ashley had no intention of sticking around for an answer; arguing was pointless. It was just a brief moment of satisfaction for her, scratching the surface of his impenetrable heart. She could not truly hurt Damian's feelings.
"Damian, this case isn't closed, the legal battle is looming. Even if we're at each other's throats now, we still have to see things through to the end. Thanks for being so generous; I'll work my fingers to the bone to earn every cent, for the sake of keeping a roof over my family's head."
Damian's face was terrifying to behold. If she uttered one more word, those powerful hands of his might just snap her neck.
A shiver of fear ran through Ashley. She just couldn't control her anger around Damian. She hated how she came off, a loose cannon, a shrew. After three years, she still hadn't seemed to grow up!
Damian fixed his gaze on her tear-filled eyes and said with deliberate calm, "Get out."
Ashley strode away, her steps heavy.
She’d angered Damian and his next move would have to be a demand for a refund and canceling the contract. But the hundred thousand dollars, an impossible sum to come up with, is something she certainly couldn't afford.
Maybe it was for the best. At least she wouldn't have to see him again.
She was exhausted. Every day since reuniting with Damian had been like going to war.
"Ashley, always stirring the pot, aren't you?" came a sarcastic voice, laced with condescension, sickening to her ears.
"Get out of my way!" Ashley snapped without patience.
Trinity had been waiting in the break room, already irked. Ashley was nothing but a dumped ex-wife in her eyes, still barking orders as if she had any right to do so. Where did she get the nerve?
"Still lingering around him, using work as an excuse; why are you even here? The case ended ages ago. You might fool men with your tricks, but you can't fool me. Oh, let me guess, struggling to make ends meet out there, so they sent you back to continue your... 'business'?"
Raising an eyebrow, Ashley said coolly, "Trinity, do you always enjoy picking up someone else's “leftovers”?"
Trinity, unaccustomed to such crass talk, turned red with rage. "You!"
Ashley cut in, "Why do you think just a word from me makes him kick you out? What's so urgent it couldn't wait? But he still gives me that courtesy. That means he isn’t done with me. You see, men go out, have their fun, taste something different. But at the end of the day, they come home."
Watching Trinity's face turn pale with rage, Ashley fought back the disgust as she continued to fabricate a story, "He told me he missed me after three years apart, saying that after being with so many women, none could compare to me. He longed for me by day and even more at night. Sure, he might not be the most... capable, but there are always other... games that spouses play. A pity I'm not interested in him at all."
Trembling with anger and learning from the last time not to resort to violence, Trinity stormed into the break room and grabbed a cup of hot coffee, hurling it all over Ashley.
The coffee soaked through her clothes, scalding her skin as it trickled down.
"Ashley, you think you’re tough? Just you wait! The day will come when you'll be begging me!"
Ashley stood there in a mess, quickly drawing the attention of the secretarial office. But this was the CEO's office area, and no one dared to come out for a spectacle.
The searing coffee burned through Ashley's clothes and into her skin, "Just a heads up," she retorted, wincing from the pain, "you might want to advise your dad to clean up the company's financial statements. No tax evasion or shady deals. If not, I won't hesitate to report you and your little schemes."
Through clenched teeth and twitching jaw muscles, Trinity spat out, "What a joke. Do you even see who calls the shots in this city? Your words won't change anything. The Astor family had collapsed. Keep that in mind, Miss ASTOR."
Ashley hadn't said a word when she noticed the CEO's office door open.
Did he hear anything? From what part?
Damian stood there with a grim expression, "What's all this noise?"
Tears welled up in Trinity's eyes as she looked at Damian with a falsely gentle and pitiful tone, "Damian... finally, you're here."
Glancing at Ashley, who just moments ago had stormed out of her office and now looked like a drowned rat, Damian asked sarcastically, "What happened to you? Couldn't find your mouth with your coffee?"
