Chapter 9
Over the next few weeks, Vaughn and I settled into a precarious rhythm, the tension between us a constant undercurrent.
As Co-CEOs of Ashworth Financial, we had no choice but to work together, but Vaughn’s resentment festered with every passing day.
He blamed me for everything, Colson’s will, the company, the mansion.
It was as if I had stolen the future he believed was rightfully his.
Despite the animosity, I focused on the work, trying to keep our interactions civil.
Vaughn, however, made no such effort. His passive-aggressive comments and pointed glares were a daily reminder of the bitterness that simmered just beneath the surface.
But I refused to let him rattle me. Colson had trusted me with this responsibility, and I wouldn’t let Vaughn’s spitefulness derail me.
One evening, after a particularly long day, I returned to the mansion, hoping for a moment of peace. I found Vaughn in the grand living room, a glass of whiskey in hand, staring into the flames of the fireplace. The flickering light cast shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable.
“Long day?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral as I removed my coat.
He took a slow sip of his drink before responding, his voice flat. “You could say that.”
Something in his tone made me pause, but I pushed forward. “We need to keep things professional, Vaughn. The board expects us to work together.”
A bitter laugh escaped him as he set his glass down on the mantel with a sharp clink. “Professional. That’s rich, coming from you.”
I crossed my arms, meeting his gaze head-on. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He turned to face me fully, his eyes narrowing. “You think you can just waltz in and take everything that’s mine? The company, the mansion…”
“The company was Colson’s, and the mansion belongs to the family,” I cut in, my patience fraying. “You’re not the only one with a stake in this, Vaughn.”
His eyes flashed with anger. “You don’t get it, do you? This was supposed to be my life. My future. And now, thanks to you, it’s all slipping away.”
I swallowed hard, refusing to show how much his words stung. “You can’t blame me for everything. This isn’t just about you.”
He was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched tight. Then, as if deciding something, he spoke again, his tone clipped. “I broke off my engagement with Serena.”
The admission caught me off guard, and I searched his face for any hint of emotion. But all I saw was cold determination. “Why?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“Because I don’t need to marry her anymore,” he said with a shrug, as if it were a simple business decision. “With Colson gone, there’s no reason to go through with it.”
His words hung in the air, heavy and final. Serena had always been more of a strategic choice than a love match for Vaughn, but to end things so abruptly, so callously, spoke volumes about his state of mind.
“I see,” I said quietly, unsure of what else to say.
He dismissed my concern with a wave of his hand. “I’ve put my house up for sale too. I’ll be staying here from now on.”
The news was almost too much. “What? You’re selling your home?”
He smirked, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Why not? This place is big enough for both of us, don’t you think? And it is an Ashworth home.”
My heart sank as the implications of his words settled in.
Vaughn wasn’t just content with taking over the company—he was determined to invade every aspect of my life.
Living under the same roof with him would be unbearable, but I had no choice.
The mansion was too large to simply shut him out, and he knew it.
“I guess we’ll have to make it work,” I said, forcing my voice to remain steady.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he replied, his smile turning predatory. “I plan to make myself right at home.”
Our conversation unsettled me. I had no problem with Easton or even Simone, she had redeemed herself, but Vaughn. He was dangerous and now that he wanted to reside permanently at the house, I would need to be careful.
Over the next few days, Vaughn made good on his promise.
He moved his things into his old bedroom, filling the space with his presence, making sure I knew he was there.
But it wasn’t just the move that grated on my nerves—it was the women.
Young, beautiful, and entirely inappropriate, he paraded them through the mansion like trophies, making sure I saw every one of them.
Late one night, I was jolted awake by laughter echoing down the hall, followed by the unmistakable sound of heels clicking against the marble floor.
My stomach churned with disgust as I imagined what was happening in the next room, but I forced myself to stay in bed, biting my lip to keep from screaming.
The next morning, I found Vaughn in the kitchen, casually sipping coffee as one of his overnight guests strutted past me in nothing but one of his shirts. She shot me a smug smile before disappearing down the hall.
“Good morning, Joey,” Vaughn said, his tone dripping with false cheer. “Did you sleep well?”
I clenched my jaw, refusing to rise to the bait. “I didn’t realize we were running a hotel now.”
He chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, come on, Joey. We’re all adults here. Just having a little fun.”
“Fun?” I repeated, my voice cold. “Is that what you call it?”
He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glinting with malice. “You took everything from me, Joey. My future, my father’s legacy. So forgive me if I want to take back a little of my own fun.”
I stared at him, a mix of anger and pity swirling in my chest. “You’re only hurting yourself, Vaughn. Is this really how you want to live? Lashing out at me, at everyone?”
His smile faltered, but he quickly covered it up with a sneer. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me. You’re not Colson, and you never will be.”
The words hit hard, a reminder of the man who was no longer here to mediate our battles. But I refused to let Vaughn’s venomous barbs drag me down. “You’re right, I’m not Colson. But I am his wife, and I’m not going anywhere.”
For a moment, something flickered in Vaughn’s eyes—regret, pain, I couldn’t tell. But then it was gone, replaced by the cold, calculating expression I had come to know all too well.
“Enjoy your breakfast, Joey,” he said, pushing back his chair and standing up. “I have plans for the day.”
As he walked past me, I didn’t miss the deliberate brush of his shoulder against mine, a final act of defiance before he left the room. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty doorway, the weight of Vaughn’s words pressing down on me.
This wasn’t just about the company anymore. It was a war for control, for power, and Vaughn was determined to win at any cost. But I wouldn’t let him. I couldn’t.
This was my life now, and I had no intention of letting Vaughn Ashworth ruin it.
As spring advanced, I found myself drawn more and more to the blooming gardens that surrounded the mansion. The vibrant colors of the flowers and the sweet scent of lavender and roses on the gentle breeze were a welcome respite from the tension that had become a constant in my life.
The evenings were my favorite, when the sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the petals, and the warmth of the day lingered just enough to make the air feel soft and comforting. It was during these moments that I could almost forget the storm brewing inside the walls of Ashworth Manor.
Occasionally, when the weight of it all became too much, I would slip away to my former childhood home.
It wasn’t far, just a short walk from the mansion, but it felt like a world apart.
I had kept the house in pristine condition, hiring a cleaning service to come weekly and keep the cobwebs and dust at bay.
There was something soothing about the familiarity of the place—the comfortable couch where I could curl up with a book, the pretty wallpaper that brightened up my somber mood. Here, in the quiet of the house, I could breathe.
Vaughn wouldn’t find me here. He rarely ventured outside the mansion, preferring to keep his domain close, where he could control every detail.
At twenty-four, my behavior might have seemed more fitting for a woman much older, but grief had aged me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.
I was now a widow, a title that felt heavy and unnatural, like a coat two sizes too large.
All the money Colson had left me couldn’t make up for his absence. It was a hollow fortune, and thinking of him always set me off, the grief coming in waves until I was sobbing, curled up on that same couch, clutching the book I couldn’t bring myself to read.
I tried to keep busy, tried to distract myself from the emptiness that seemed to follow me everywhere.
I even attended some of the teas the society women threw, though I found little comfort in their company.
They welcomed me with polite smiles and sympathetic glances, but I could sense the underlying curiosity, the thinly veiled gossip that always followed me wherever I went.
The world of the wealthy is a strange place, full of opulence and privilege, but also jealousy and deceit.
The society women were no different, often speaking in hushed tones about others they considered friends.
I would sit there, sipping tea from delicate china, listening to their chatter about scandals and affairs, feeling more and more like an outsider.
I didn’t want any part of it. I had no interest in their gossip or their petty rivalries. I didn’t want to become one of them, a woman who measured her worth by the number of jewels around her neck or the size of her estate.