"Marcus's future in-laws are coming tonight to formally propose. Stay in your room and behave yourself. Don't you dare cause me trouble." Vivian Caldwell stared at her daughter, her eyes packed with disgust and cold disdain.
Elara Sinclair lowered her head, her gaze dim and lifeless. She only answered softly, "Got it."
Vivian was holding a storm inside her chest. Every time she thought of having a daughter who had done time, she wanted nothing more than to bury that shame forever. But then she remembered her stepdaughter was about to marry into the powerful Ashford family, and just like that, her mood eased up a lot.
"I'll have someone bring you food later. And remember, don't go wandering around." Only after seeing Elara nod obediently did Vivian finally turn and leave.
When the footsteps faded into the distance, Elara shut the door and stood there in silence for a moment. Then she slowly looked around the servants' quarters.
The room was small, but it had everything needed for daily life.
Elara had lost her father when she was little. At five, her mother Vivian remarried Leonard Caldwell, a wealthy businessman in Haicheng, and stepped straight into a life of comfort and luxury. As for Elara, she had been left behind to struggle through life with her grandmother.
Through the window, the lavish main house gleamed under the lights, almost dazzling. The whole Caldwell household was in chaos tonight, running around like tops. Just from the way Vivian had been so cautious and tense, it was obvious the people coming for the proposal were no ordinary guests.
By the time night fully settled in, Elara was sitting at the table flipping through an old high school English notebook, the pages yellowed with age. Even with the window shut tight, the piano music drifting over from the main house was still crystal clear. The contrast was kind of brutal, because her stomach was growling nonstop. Vivian had clearly forgotten all about sending her food.
Then suddenly, children's laughter and barking came from outside.
"Little Star, catch!"
In the dim light, Elara saw several children in the garden using a drumstick to tease a tall, handsome German shepherd. The dog looked like it had already eaten its fill. It lowered its head, sniffed the drumstick on the ground, then turned away without a second thought. The kids instantly lost interest too. They tossed the chicken leg aside and ran off with the dog.
Elara stared downstairs for a while, lost in thought. Then she quietly pushed open the door and slipped out.
She picked up the drumstick and looked at it. It barely had any salt on it at all. Probably made specially for that German shepherd. Pets weren't supposed to eat food that was too salty, after all. At that thought, a bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips. Some people really did live worse than a dog.
All of a sudden, the bushes beside her rustled.
That German shepherd shot toward her like an arrow loosed from a bow. Elara's whole body froze, her heart jumping straight into her throat.
At the critical moment, a deep male voice cut through the air.
"Back."
The tone wasn't loud, but it carried natural authority. The overexcited dog stopped at once, instantly obedient.
Elara was still trying to catch her breath when a tall figure stepped out from behind the flowerbeds.
Standing on the line between shadow and light, the man's features slowly came into focus.
He was dressed in a black shirt and tailored black trousers, formal and immaculate. A refined silver tie pin rested at his collar, and his whole presence gave off the calm, steady pressure of a fully grown man who knew exactly who he was.
"Did I scare you?" He bent slightly, his voice low and smooth. Then he reached out a long, elegant hand toward her. "Here, I'll help you up."
Only then did Elara realize she was sitting on the ground. Her eyes flicked over that distinct, well-shaped hand, but she didn't take it. Instead, she pressed one hand to the ground and got up by herself.
The man didn’t seem bothered. He withdrew his hand and gave the girl in front of him a slow once-over.
"So you’re the new maid the Caldwell family just hired?"
His voice was low and smooth, especially in the night, carrying that lazy, casual tone that somehow made every word sound extra dangerous.
"Go this way. Turn left at the end and you’ll see the staff cafeteria." He paused for half a beat, then added, "And don’t eat the stuff on the ground. Bad for your health."
From the way he spoke, Elara Sinclair guessed he wasn’t one of the Caldwells. More likely, he was one of those big shots her mother had warned her again and again not to offend.
She didn’t dare stir up trouble and make Vivian Caldwell even angrier, so she quietly turned to leave. But before she could get far, she felt his gaze settle on her like a physical weight, heavy enough to make her back go cold and her whole body tense up.
Elara quickened her pace and left in a hurry.
Theodore Ashford stood there in silence, watching the flustered little girl bolt like she was escaping danger. The corner of his mouth lifted ever so slightly. Rare for him to offer someone help, and this was the treatment he got.
......
Theodore Ashford walked back to the reception hall at an unhurried pace, the German Shepherd padding loyally beside him.
With a smile plastered across her face, Vivian Caldwell said, "Mr. Ashford, perfect timing. We were just talking about the wedding venue. Hanh wants New Zealand, and Marcus wants France. Who do you think they should listen to?"
Originally, it should have been Marcus Ashford’s parents coming to the Caldwell family to formally discuss the marriage. But something urgent had come up at the last minute, and they couldn’t get away, so they had no choice but to ask Theodore Ashford to come in their place.
As Marcus Ashford’s actual uncle—and the man who truly held power in the Ashford family—his presence gave the Caldwells even more face than if Marcus’s parents had shown up themselves.
The five-meter round table in the Caldwell house was packed full. Every single person there wanted to use this chance to get a word in with Theodore Ashford.
After hearing Vivian Caldwell out, he gave a faint smile and replied in an even, unreadable tone, "Things between the younger generation should be decided by them. I won’t get involved."
Vivian Caldwell caught the distance in his words at once. Her smile stiffened for a second. Noticing the mocking looks flicking over from the others at the table, she secretly ground her teeth.
At nine-thirty, Theodore Ashford and Marcus Ashford got up and left.
Inside the Maybach, Marcus Ashford sat with a dark, troubled face, weighed down by thoughts. There wasn’t even a trace of the joy a groom-to-be was supposed to have.
Theodore Ashford glanced at him. Seeing his nephew mope the whole night, he asked flatly, "Why the long face this late at night? What, something bothering you?"
Marcus lowered his eyes and looked at his always imposing uncle. After hesitating for a while, he finally spoke in a low voice, "Uncle... I kind of want to back out. Can I..."
"Don’t even think about it." Theodore Ashford cut him off before he could finish, his tone turning sharp. Frowning, he said, "The engagement was just settled and now you want out? What do you think marriage is, some kid’s game?"
After getting hit with that lecture, Marcus Ashford lowered his head and didn’t dare argue back. Only after a long pause did he mutter gloomily, "But I still can’t let her go..."
Theodore Ashford knew exactly who that "her" was.
The ex-girlfriend Marcus had broken up with four years ago.
"A woman who’s done time is worth you obsessing over like this?" Theodore Ashford pulled out a cigarette and lit it, narrowing his eyes as he breathed out a stream of smoke. He stretched his hand out the car window and flicked the ash with practiced ease. His voice was cold enough to freeze the air. "Give it up. She will never enter the Ashford family in this lifetime."
It wasn’t just Marcus Ashford’s parents.
He wouldn’t allow a woman with a criminal record to ruin his nephew’s future either.