Chapter 13 A Gift
The car pulled up in front of Kingsley Manor. Hesitating, she opened the car door and tried to get Dante out, but he was barely awake, swaying with every step.
There was no one around to help. No guards in sight. No house staff waiting at the door. She had no choice.
She stepped out and moved to his side, opening the door. With a deep breath, she wrapped his arm around her shoulder again and quietly led him inside. Step by step, they made their way up the grand staircase. She pushed open his bedroom door and helped lower him onto the bed.
She reached for the blanket to cover him.
And froze.
A shadow stretched across the floor.
Anya looked up.
Janet stood in the doorway, arms crossed, lips thin, her eyes blazing with fury.
“Come out. Now.”
Her voice was low but sharp as a knife.
Anya swallowed and nodded, following Janet out the door.
They descended the stairs in silence. Janet’s heels clicked sharply on each step, like gunshots in the quiet.
Once they reached the marble-floored hallway, Janet spun around. Her eyes flashed with fury, voice dropping to a hiss.
“I told you,” she seethed. “Never set foot in this house again. And don’t even think about seducing him. Did I not make myself clear?”
Anya met her glare, back straight, voice calm despite the tremble in her stomach. “I’m his employee, Miss Kingsley. He drank too much tonight. I only came to drop my boss home. That’s it.”
“As if!” Janet snapped, her face twisted with fury. “I warned you not to go near him! But you still did! And now you’re back in my house like nothing happened? Didn’t I teach you a good enough lesson last time?” Her voice rose, trembling with rage. “What the hell do you want from my son?”
Her eyes blazed as she stepped closer, every word like venom. “I told you—there’s never going to be anything between you and Dante. Don’t you get it? He’s already engaged to Annie Carter! How could you possibly compare to her?”
Anya’s pulse roared in her ears, but she kept her expression calm. “I don’t need to compare myself to anyone, Mrs. Kingsley,” she said evenly. “I’ve already said—I’m not here for money or to seduce anyone. If anything, maybe instead of forcing a girl onto your son, you should respect his choice about who he wants to marry.”
That struck a nerve.
Janet’s face contorted with rage. “You’re lecturing me now?” she spat. “I know girls like you. Manipulative. Calculating. Never satisfied. Should I teach you a real lesson this time so you finally understand your place?”
Without warning, Janet lunged forward, hand raised, ready to slap Anya across the face.
“Mom! What the hell are you doing?”
Dante’s voice cut through the hallway like a blade. He stormed down the stairs, clearly still drunk, but his expression was deadly serious. His eyes burned with anger as he stepped in front of Anya, shielding her with his body.
“No one touches her. Not even you. Not now. Not ever ,” he growled.
Janet froze, her hand suspended in the air, eyes wide.
“You’re defending that girl?” she cried out, her voice shrill with disbelief. “Have you lost your mind? Did you forget what your father told you before he died? He told you to listen to me! You promised to marry Annie—”
“I never promised to marry her,” Dante said coldly. “You begged me to meet her. I did. But she never showed up. That was your plan, not mine. It ends there.”
Janet’s face twisted. “She was sick! You think that means anything? You expect her to be perfect all the time? She’s Annie Carter! She can have tantrums if she wants to! You’re still going to meet her again—and you’ll marry her.”
Without a word, Anya slipped her hand from Dante’s grasp and stepped back.
Dante’s gaze snapped to her. He immediately frowned, his jaw clenched. “Where are you going?”
He turned back to Janet. His voice was a hoarse growl. “For the record—I’m going to reject Annie the moment I see her. I will never marry her.”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Janet snapped. “You just need time with Annie. If you met her properly, you'd fall in love with her. She’s everything you need!”
“I said no!” Dante roared, the sound vibrating through the hall. “I know what I want. And it’s not her.” His temples throbbed, the alcohol making his head swim, but his voice was clear. “Stop trying to control my life!”
A beat of silence.
Just then, another voice echoed from the hall.
“What’s all this noise?”
Griffin stepped into the hall, his hair gleaming under the chandelier. His cane tapped once on the marble floor before his gaze landed on Anya, and softened.
“Anya… you came back,” he said gently.
She offered him a faint smile.
Griffin hurried over, gently taking her hands in his. “Are you okay? Did you eat anything? Do you need help with anything?” His concern was written all over his face.
“I’m fine, Grandpa,” she said softly. “I have a place. I’m staying with a friend.”
“That’s good.” Griffin smiled warmly. “But if you ever need anything, you come to me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Yes, Grandpa,” she whispered. Then, glancing at Dante, she added, “I should go now. Please take care of yourself, and Dante. He’s still drunk.”
With that, she turned and walked out quietly, the door closing behind her.
Griffin watched her leave with a worried expression. Dante’s shoulders sagged, the fire in his eyes dimming as he stared at the door she disappeared through.
Then Griffin muttered, almost to himself, “I told you to get together with Anya when your mother wasn’t here. You didn’t listen. If you had married her back then, Janet wouldn’t be trying to shove someone else down your throat.”
Janet’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Dad?! How can you say that? How can you let him marry her ? She has nothing! She’s practically homeless! And now you’re comparing her to Charles’ daughter?”
Griffin turned slowly to her, eyes like steel. “If you’re so obsessed with marrying into a rich family, why don’t you get married and move out? Stop sacrificing your son’s happiness just to satisfy your own damn pride, Janet.”
Janet’s face flushed red with fury. “How can you say something like that to me?!”
“Grandpa, let’s go. I’ll take you to your room,” Dante said quietly, stepping in before it escalated further.
He moved to Griffin’s side, supporting him gently as they turned toward the stairs.
Behind them, Janet raged on. “You’re letting him throw his life away! He doesn’t understand what he’s doing! You’re supposed to guide him, not spoil him! How can you say something so cruel—!”
But neither man looked back.
They disappeared upstairs, leaving Janet alone—shaking with rage.
***
Danny leaned back in his chair, a nostalgic smile on his face. “I can’t even remember the last time Charles and I sat like this. It’s been years.”
He had come home the night before, stayed for dinner, and was still here the next day—spending time not just with Charles, but especially with Anya.
“Anya’s birthday is coming up,” Danny said, glancing warmly around the table. “Brother, what have you planned? I could find a hotel, we’ll host a party!”
“Yeah, this one needs to be big,” Luca added. “Since Anya came back, we haven’t even celebrated her return.”
Charles nodded instantly. “Of course. Anya, whatever you want, you’ll have it. How about we book the Emperor Hotel for the whole day and night? Invite your friends if you have any, and we’ll invite some other guests too.”
“No, dad,” Anya said quickly, cutting into their excited planning. “Please, not this time. I don’t want a big party. I don’t want anyone to know who I really am yet.”
Charles’s face fell. His tone turned solemn. “That’s a hard thing to hear, Anya. You’re my daughter. After all these years, I finally have you back—and I still can’t introduce you to the world?”
“Yeah,” Danny said, his brows drawn together. “Who cares what anyone else thinks? You’re ours—you mean everything to us. And if anyone even tries to hurt you, they’ll regret it. No one lays a finger on you. Ever.”
“I’m sorry, Dad… Uncle,” Anya said softly. “Just give me a little more time. I need to see if the Kingsleys accept me for who I am, without knowing where I come from. If they’re just chasing your money, I don’t want any part of it. I want to be sure they see me as family, not as some business link.”
“But, Anya—” Charles began, concern flashing in his eyes.
“No, Dad,” she interrupted gently. “What if one day the business is gone? What if I’m no longer useful to them? I don’t want to be kicked out of that house because there was never any real love to begin with. I need to be sure Dante wants to marry me because he loves me —not because of what he might gain.”
“She’s right,” Luca said quietly, his eyes meeting hers with understanding. “Do what feels right. You’re the one who’ll live with him. Your decision matters most.”
Charles exhaled heavily and gave a slow nod. “Alright. I’ve waited so long to have you back. I can wait a little longer.”
“I’m dying to tell everyone, though,” Danny groaned, a helpless smile tugging at his lips. “But how can I say no to my niece?”
Everyone chuckled.
“Alright then,” Danny said, his voice warm with affection. “Tell me what you want for your birthday. I want you to have the best of everything. Anything you ask for—just name it.”
“I don’t want anything, Uncle,” Anya replied with a gentle smile. “I already have you, Dad, and Luca. I’m happier than I’ve been in years. What more could I possibly want?”
“Nope, that’s not going to work,” Danny said with mock sternness. “Let it be. There’s a live auction coming up at the Emperor Hotel. I’ll go and find something special. From next year, you’ll look forward to your uncle’s gifts every year.”
Anya laughed. “Alright then. I’ll look forward to it.”
“Good girl,” Danny grinned, handing her a sweet across the table. Anya took it with a grateful grin.
“Uncle, can I come with you?” Luca asked eagerly.
“Of course,” he nodded. “You and I will go together.”
***
Meanwhile, at the Fox residence, the family was gathered around the dining table.
“Our Zara is going to have the most unforgettable birthday in the city!” Valentina gushed. “I want to host the biggest, most glamorous party and invite the most influential people. Everyone needs to see how beautiful my daughter is. And I’ll make sure to invite a few eligible bachelors too—maybe we’ll find you someone special.”
“Yes! And Mom, I don’t want a boring birthday,” Zara said dramatically. “I want to book an entire flight. I’ll invite a few of my overseas contacts.”
“Are they your friends?” Valentina asked, one brow arched.
“Not really. Just some people I know... but imagine how amazing it’ll look when people see we have many international guests. Everyone will think we’re even more rich and important.”
Valentina nodded. “Alright then. How about we also invite the Kingsleys? We’re not exactly close, but their name’s been in every headline lately—especially that Dante Kingsley. If he agrees to come, maybe we could even talk about marriage. You’d be at the top of society, darling.”
“Yes, yes! Please!” Zara clapped, her heart racing. She’d seen Dante in magazines—tall, powerful, devastatingly handsome— and read about his immense wealth. Just the thought of standing beside him made her chest flutter.
‘If I marry him, I’ll be the richest wife in the country,’ she thought smugly. ‘Everyone will look up to me.’
“Wait, I’ll give him a call,” Valentina said, grabbing her phone confidently. “I got it from a woman I met at a party recently—just in case. Good thing I did.”
The phone rang only a few times before a deep, calm voice answered.
“Yes?”
Zara’s breath caught in her throat. Even his voice was magnetic. Cold. Commanding.
Her breath hitched. ‘This man… I want him.’
“Dante, this is Mrs. Valentina Fox,” she said sweetly, keeping her voice smooth and poised.
"Who?" Dante’s voice came from the other side of the line, sounding confused.
Valentina's smile faltered slightly. She let out an awkward laugh before answering. "Do you know James Fox? He's your grandpa's friend. I'm his daughter-in-law."
"Oh, right." Dante’s voice hardened instantly. It was no longer soft, no longer polite—and that shift made Valentina straighten, her posture suddenly stiff, her expression faltering.
"I called you, Dante—"
"It’s Mr. Kingsley," he muttered, cutting her off coldly.
Valentina blinked, stunned. The air around her bristled with tension. Still, she forced herself to swallow the insult, even though her fists clenched tightly around the phone. "There's a party soon. We're celebrating my daughter’s birthday. My daughter, Zara? It’s her birthday, so I wanted to invite you to come this Sunday."
"Isn’t it Anya’s birthday as well?" Dante asked, his voice calm, but razor-sharp.
Valentina’s face dropped. Her voice turned sour, clipped with bitterness. "Yeah. Anya and my daughter Zara have the same birthday." She paused, her tone shifting from stiff to suspicious. "You know Anya?"
"Yes, she is my secretary. Since it’s her birthday on Sunday, I won’t be attending your party. I’ll be celebrating with her.”
“But—”
Before she could finish, the call ended. The line went dead. Valentina sat frozen, her face twisted in fury. Her nostrils flared, and fury surged through her as she flung the phone onto the table with a sharp exhale.
She stared at her phone in disbelief. Then slowly, her expression twisted. Her nostrils flared, and fury surged through her as she flung the phone onto the couch with a sharp exhale. "That little bitch!" she snapped. Her voice rose in volume, echoing through the room.
Zara, seated nearby, looked up. Her mother’s face was red with rage.
"How the hell… How can she? Zara!" Valentina barked. "That bitch. She’s already wrapped herself around Dante. He wouldn’t even come to your birthday party! Did you hear how he spoke to me? That rudeness, that disrespect—because of her ! She’s hooked up with him already, hasn’t she?"
Zara’s face darkened, and color flushed into her cheeks. "How’s that possible?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone. Her voice trembled, disbelief laced with jealousy. "How can he accept someone like her? How can she get someone like Dante?"
***
"What would be the best gift for a woman?" Dante asked calmly, phone pressed to his ear.
Triston, on the other end, blinked. "For a woman…?" He paused, thinking. "For moms, usually jewelry or luxury bags. You don’t have to pick them yourself—just pick something expensive, and she’ll love it."
“What if I want to pick it personally?”
Triston was quiet for a beat. “Then make sure it’s something thoughtful and expensive. The more it costs, the more it shows you care. But wait—why don’t you ask Anya? She’s a girl. She’ll know better what kind of gifts women like."
Dante gave a low hum of thought. "Alright." He hung up without another word.
Across town, Triston stared at his phone. A strange flicker crossed his face. ‘He wants a gift for a woman? Something he’s going to buy personally?’ The realization hit him hard, jerking him upright in his chair. "No way... Is it for Anya?"
Within the hour, Triston was striding into Kingsley Corporation’s glassy skyscraper. He bypassed the front desk and went straight to the upper floor. Before he could knock on Dante’s office door, he spotted Anya walking to her desk.
Without thinking, he grabbed her arm. "Anya, wait up."
Anya turned, startled, then smiled lightly. "Triston?" she said, brows raised in surprise.
"So you do remember me. Sharp memory."
"Thanks," she replied casually, pulling her arm back. But Triston didn’t let her go just yet.
Triston gave her a long look. “Tell me something…”
"What?"
“Is your birthday coming up?”
She blinked. "...Yeah. How did you know?"
Triston tilted his head, lips curving into a slow smirk. "No reason. Just… expect something nice from Dante soon. Something really, really nice."
Anya’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise glinting in them. "Really?"
Before Triston could say more, Dante appeared around the corner. His sharp eyes swept over them and he walked up at once.
"What are you two talking about?"
Triston grinned. "A gift."
Dante’s jaw flexed.
He pointed at Anya. "Go back to your desk." Then to Triston, "You. In my office."
Anya nodded quickly and walked off. Triston followed Dante into his office, the door shutting behind them.
Once inside the office, Dante slammed the door shut behind them and walked straight to his desk.
Triston sank into the chair opposite him, lounging casually. "So," he began, watching Dante closely, "you’re really going to give that precious, hand-picked, most expensive gift to Anya?"
Dante didn’t flinch. "Yeah."
Triston straightened. "You know people will notice, right? They’ll know it’s from you. And don’t forget—your engagement to that Carter girl is still there. Your mom’s expecting it. Do you really think she’ll keep quiet if she finds out?"
Dante leaned back slowly. "Do I look like someone who takes orders from my mother? If I can’t even choose the woman I want, what kind of man would I be?"
Triston stared at him, stunned. “You’re going against Janet’s plans?”
There was a long pause. Then Dante leaned forward slightly, his expression hardening.
“Don’t get involved.” His eyes locked on Triston’s with unnerving clarity. “I’ll handle everything."
***
Anya stepped into the auction house. The palace was bright with lights and full of people talking and laughing. Waiters walked around with drinks, and the theme was Egyptian—there were men dressed in gold cuffs and cloth wraps, offering drinks to guests. In the middle of the large room was a stage, ready for the auction to begin.
Anya, wearing a black, backless gown, stood beside Dante, who wore a sharp suit that matched. They had come straight from the office.
Earlier, Dante had taken her shopping and made her try on outfit after outfit until he was happy with this one. She shivered as she remembered the way his eyes had followed her every move while she changed—more interested in watching her undress than in how the dresses looked on her.
But then Anya’s feet came to an abrupt halt as her gaze fell on the name of the auction in bold gold letters.
Emperors' Auction.
Her breath caught in shock. ‘Isn't this the auction Uncle and Luca were supposed to attend?’ She shuddered, and panic immediately set in. ‘But I’m already here... there's no way to escape now.’
Before she could even think of a way out, Dante was at her side, gripping her hand firmly and pulling her inside.
"Dante, I don’t need any gifts," she protested, trying to pull away, her voice soft but filled with a desperate plea. "Why don’t we just go back?"
He frowned at her. "That's not going to happen. We're already here. Just look at everything and tell me what you like. If you want it all, I can get it for you. Just make a choice."
"No, I really don't need it. Trust me, please. Let's just go back—"
"Not happening," Dante repeated, his grip tightening on her hand as he led her deeper into the crowded hall.
Anya’s mind raced. ‘Shit. Shit. Shit.’ She gritted her teeth, trying to suppress her panic as they moved forward.