Chapter 3: Shadows of control

The moment Ronan said I’d be moving into his estate, I felt the walls close in on me. I had agreed to trust him, to let him protect me, but this wasn’t what I had envisioned. Moving in? That sounded like surrender, like giving up the little control I had managed to scrape together.

“No,” I said firmly, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m not moving in with you.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow, his expression a mixture of amusement and frustration. “This isn’t up for debate, Ashley. Staying in that motel is a risk you can’t afford.”

“I can take care of myself,” I shot back, my voice shaking only slightly.

He stepped closer, his towering frame making me feel small. “Can you? Because the last time I checked, your husband and that snake you call a sister left you for dead. Tell me, Ashley, do you really think they won’t try again?”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. David and Kate wouldn’t stop until they destroyed me. Still, the idea of moving into Ronan’s mansion felt like jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“I need my own space,” I insisted, my voice soft but resolute.

Ronan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I’ll arrange an apartment for you. But until it’s ready, you stay here. That’s non-negotiable.”

I wanted to argue, to push back, but the look in his eyes told me it would be a losing battle. “Fine,” I muttered.

---

The rest of the day passed in a blur as Ronan’s staff prepared a guest room for me. The room was larger than my entire apartment back when I lived with David. It was lavishly furnished, with a king-sized bed, a walk-in closet, and floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the estate’s sprawling gardens.

It was beautiful, but it didn’t feel like home.

I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the suitcase the driver had retrieved from the motel. My clothes looked pitiful in this space, a stark reminder of how out of place I was in Ronan’s world.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts.

“Come in,” I called, expecting one of the staff.

Instead, Ronan stepped inside, his presence filling the room. He looked different without the suit jacket, his white dress shirt rolled up to reveal strong forearms.

“I wanted to check on you,” he said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

“I’m fine,” I replied, my tone clipped.

“You don’t sound fine.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s just… a lot to take in. This isn’t my life, Ronan. I don’t belong here.”

He stepped closer, his expression softening. “You belong wherever you decide to belong, Ashley. Stop letting others dictate your worth.”

His words caught me off guard. For so long, I had let David, Kate, and even my parents define who I was. Could I take control of my own life?

“You’re stronger than you think,” Ronan added, his voice low and steady. “But strength means nothing if you don’t use it.”

---

The next morning, I woke to the sound of voices outside my room. When I opened the door, I found Ronan in the hallway, speaking to a man I didn’t recognize. The man was tall, with dark hair and a sharp, angular face.

“Good morning,” Ronan said, noticing me.

The man turned to look at me, his eyes cold and assessing. “This is her?”

“Yes,” Ronan replied. “Ashley, this is Matteo, my second-in-command. He’ll be overseeing your security.”

“Security?” I repeated, frowning.

“It’s necessary,” Ronan said. “From now on, Matteo and his team will make sure you’re safe.”

I didn’t like the idea of being watched, but I knew better than to argue. “Fine,” I said reluctantly.

“Good,” Matteo said, his tone curt. “I’ll have a team stationed outside the estate and another shadowing you whenever you leave.”

---

Over the next few days, I settled into a routine. Ronan’s staff was efficient and respectful, and the estate was surprisingly peaceful. But even as I adjusted to my new surroundings, a sense of unease lingered.

David hadn’t contacted me, which was unusual. He was the kind of man who liked to keep his enemies close, and the silence felt like the calm before a storm.

Then, one evening, Ronan called me into his office.

“I have something for you,” he said, handing me a folder.

I opened it, my stomach tightening as I scanned the documents inside. There were reports on David and Kate—financial records, phone logs, and even photos of them meeting with someone I didn’t recognize.

“What is this?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Evidence,” Ronan replied. “Your husband and your sister are working with someone outside the family. I don’t know who yet, but it’s clear they’re planning something.”

“Why are you showing me this?”

“Because you need to understand what you’re up against,” he said. “And because I need your help.”

“My help?” I repeated, confused.

Ronan leaned forward, his eyes locking onto mine. “You know them better than anyone. If we’re going to take them down, I need you to tell me everything you know.”

---

That night, I sat alone in my room, staring at the folder. The photos of David and Kate burned into my memory, a painful reminder of the life I had escaped.

But as much as it hurt, Ronan was right. If I wanted to protect myself and my child, I couldn’t run from the truth. I had to face it head-on.

The next morning, I went to Ronan’s office, the folder clutched in my hands.

“I’ll help you,” I said, my voice steady.

He looked up from his desk, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Good. Let’s get to work.”