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“Thank you, Harris,” I replied, offering him a small but genuine smile.
As I made my way through the penthouse, other familiar faces greeted me, each one bringing forth memories of kindness in this vast place that often felt too cold. The housekeeper, Mrs. Eldridge, approached with open arms.
“Mistress Asa,” she exclaimed softly as she embraced me in a gentle hug that spoke volumes about her care for those who lived under this roof. “We’ve missed you dearly.”
The affection from her and the other maids wrapped around me like a blanket, comforting yet suffocating with its implications of permanence within these walls.
Stepping into the drawing room, I hesitated at the threshold, overcome by the sheer beauty that unfolded before me. It was a vast expanse of elegance and comfort, with plush sofas that beckoned one to sink into their depths and lose track of time. Sunlight filtered through floor-to-ceiling windows, casting golden pools on the polished wood floor. The walls were adorned with exquisite artwork, each piece carefully selected to complement the room’s warm tones. This was where we had often gathered in the evenings, the brothers sharing their day while I listened, curled up by the fireplace that now stood silent and cold.
Next, I wandered into the library, a sanctuary of mahogany and leather that still carried the faint scent of old books and rich wood polish. The shelves reached up to the high ceiling, lined with countless volumes that held stories of adventure, romance, and knowledge. It was in this room where Xavier would spend hours lost in his latest project, his gray eyes reflecting the glow from his laptop screen as he worked late into the night.
Adjacent to the library was the gallery, an expansive space where time seemed to stand still. The soft lighting accentuated each painting and sculpture, showcasing a collection that spanned centuries and styles. The brothers had taken pride in their collection, often engaging in spirited discussions about acquisitions. I’d walk these halls, feeling the weight of history in every brushstroke and chisel mark.
With a deep breath to steady my emotions, I stepped outside onto the private courtyard garden. The transition from indoor opulence to outdoor extravagance was seamless. Here, amid a sea of blossoms and plants that thrived despite their high-altitude home, was tranquility personified. Marble paths wound through beds of vibrant flowers and manicured hedges, leading to secluded benches where one could sit and reflect.
The garden’s crowning glory was its view of the city skyline, an awe-inspiring panorama that stretched out before me like a canvas painted with life’s ceaseless energy. Skyscrapers pierced the sky, while below, the city pulsed with movement, a stark contrast to this elevated haven of peace.
I found myself drawn to a wrought-iron bench overlooking this vista. Settling onto it, I allowed myself a moment of respite, a chance to take in the city as it moved without me. Here, among blooms that perfumed the air and leaves that whispered secrets carried by the wind, I could almost imagine a different life—a life where such beauty wasn’t tinged with memories both sweet and sorrowful.
The tranquility of the garden clung to me like a lingering perfume as I turned back toward the penthouse. Each step felt heavier, laden with a history that refused to stay buried. My heart thrummed a chaotic rhythm, its beats echoing the turmoil within.
I moved through the corridors, the grandeur of the penthouse pressing in on me from all sides. Without realizing it, my feet carried me toward Dominic’s room. It was like a magnet, drawing me in with an invisible force that resonated deep in my bones.
The door to his room loomed before me, and I hesitated only for a moment before my hand found the knob, turning it with a resolve I didn’t feel. As I stepped inside, Dominic’s scent enveloped me, a potent mix of cedar and leather that spoke of his commanding presence.
My breath hitched in my throat as memories cascaded over me—nights spent wrapped in his arms, his steel-gray eyes locking on to mine with an intensity that both thrilled and terrified me. The room was a reflection of him, with dark woods and deep blues that exuded power and control. His bed was meticulously made, the pillows perfectly placed, an outward sign of the discipline he wielded in every aspect of life.
I felt my omega heat stir at the essence of him that lingered in the air, awakening desires I’d tried to bury. The dizzying effect made my knees buckle slightly, and I steadied myself against the back of an armchair. His scent called to something primal within me, an echo of a bond that was both sacred and overwhelming.
With shaky steps, I retreated from Dominic’s room, closing the door on a past that clung to me like a shadow. The hallway seemed to spin as I navigated my way back to my own sanctuary, trying to steady my racing heart.
Harris’ voice broke through my haze as he spoke to Mrs. Eldridge and the maids. “Master Dominic will be arriving this evening from London, earlier than planned,” he said with an urgency that set everyone into motion.
My pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Dominic again so soon, elation warring with nausea at the tangled web of emotions his presence would invoke.
As staff scurried away to prepare for his arrival, I overheard two maids whispering among themselves. “It’s because Mistress Asa is back,” one said with certainty. “That’s why Master Dominic is returning earlier than expected.”
The other nodded in agreement, their voices fading as they moved down the hall.
A sense of weightlessness washed over me. His return for me felt like an honor yet also a burden that sat uneasily in my stomach.
The very thought of seeing Dominic, of those piercing eyes that seemed to see right through me, sent waves of nausea churning through my stomach again. I couldn’t do it; seeing him would unravel me completely. My resolve for my independence would come crashing down at just the mere sight of him.
I turned on my heel and rushed into my room, the door closing behind me with a soft click. My heart was pounding, a frenzied drumbeat urging me to move, to act. If I wanted to flee, I had to do it now before they arranged bodyguards on me, men who’d follow me like shadows.
I flung open the doors to the walk-in closet, a cavernous space lined with silks and satins that shimmered under the soft lighting. Gowns with beaded embellishments hung next to tailored suits, each piece more exquisite than the last—a wardrobe fit for royalty. Shelves housed delicate perfumes in crystal flacons, their scents a bouquet of gardens from around the world. Drawers overflowed with jewelry that glittered like stars plucked from the night sky—diamonds, sapphires, and rubies set in intricate designs.
My old street clothes, a pair of worn jeans and a faded hoodie, lay folded in stark contrast amid this opulence. They were remnants of a life where I was invisible in crowds, where my voice was just another in the din of the city. Here in this temple of luxury, they seemed like relics from another world, out of place yet achingly familiar.
With trembling hands, I shed the silk pants and cotton shirt and slipped into my jeans. The denim hugged my legs in a familiar embrace as I pulled the hoodie over my head, its soft fabric a whisper of normalcy. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked at myself in the mirror, one step closer to being just Asa again, not Mistress Asa or Mrs. Davenport.
I found my phone resting atop the bedside table, and with one last glance around the room, I pocketed the phone and slipped out.
The penthouse buzzed with activity; staff flitted about like bees in a hive, polishing silverware and adjusting cushions, all to ensure perfection for Dominic’s return. I kept close to the walls, my presence unnoticed as everyone busied themselves with their tasks.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I reached the service elevator at the end of a secluded corridor. With the press of a button, a ding signaled its arrival, and I stepped inside, the doors closing on the life I was leaving behind, if only for a moment.
* * *
