She was only supposed to be the help… but she might just be his salvation. Billionaire Asher Brown is a man haunted by loss. Ever since his wife’s tragic death, his world has revolved around two things—his daughter, Chloe, and his business empire. Love is the last thing on his mind… until Dahlia Reigns walks through his door. Hired as Chloe’s live-in maid, Dahlia never expected to become more than just an employee. But as she brings warmth and laughter back into the Brown household, she finds herself drawn to the brooding man behind the suit. And Asher? He can’t seem to stay away from her. But not everyone wants to see them happy. Catherine, his late wife’s sister, has her own plans—and she’s willing to destroy Dahlia to keep Asher under her control. As secrets unravel and lines blur, Asher and Dahlia must decide: Will they risk it all for love, or will the past win once again? SPECIAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR Dearest incoming readers, this may sound unkind but it needs to be said. Please, if you're expecting a fast-paced, smutty romance book, then this one might not be the one for you. This book is a slow-paced, fluffy romance that focuses on building trust and a lovable communication with mature and understanding characters. Which means no toxicity from the ML and FL of any such. While there will be smut, more of it to come, please do not expect it within the first few chapters. If you're looking for something different and unique, I suggest you give this one a try, and if it's not your style, please skip. Bad and unnecessary comments will not be condoled. Thank you.
View MoreCHAPTER ONE: ON A SACRED NIGHT.AURORA'S POINT OF VIEWIt happened again. He did it again. He hit her. He was on to me next. I had to make a run for it. I was tired of it all. I needed to find solace or else I knew the bruises would be deeper this time. He came back drunk again for the hundredth time. Banging the door, shouting “Let me in!”How could I when I know that he is going to beat the hell out of us if I did. The whole neighborhood was as silent as a graveyard. As it should be at 1:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a time of sleep for every being that crawled the earth. Mere mortals had taken to heed and unearthly beings roamed the night. How could I know if he hasn't been possessed by one of them?He has always been so vulgar. No! He wasn't like this. The incident made him so. There was a time when we were so happy. I still remember those summer days when dad would take us to the beach or those Christmas mornings when we'd build a snowman. Dad used to braid our hair and pancak
CHAPTER ONE: ON A SACRED NIGHT.AURORA'S POINT OF VIEWIt happened again. He did it again. He hit her. He was on to me next. I had to make a run for it. I was tired of it all. I needed to find solace or else I knew the bruises would be deeper this time. He came back drunk again for the hundredth time. Banging the door, shouting “Let me in!”How could I when I know that he is going to beat the hell out of us if I did. The whole neighborhood was as silent as a graveyard. As it should be at 1:30 a.m. in the morning. It was a time of sleep for every being that crawled the earth. Mere mortals had taken to heed and unearthly beings roamed the night. How could I know if he hasn't been possessed by one of them?He has always been so vulgar. No! He wasn't like this. The incident made him so. There was a time when we were so happy. I still remember those summer days when dad would take us to the beach or those Christmas mornings when we'd build a snowman. Dad used to braid our hair and pancak
CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Wait Asher walked down the stairs and slumped into a chair at the dining table, exhaustion and frustration etched into his features. He rubbed his temples, letting out a weary sigh as one of the three maids stepped forward to serve him breakfast. Leaning back into his seat, he exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on him. Across the table, Catherine sat two seats away, buttering her toast with a smug expression. The morning’s menu was a traditional English breakfast. “And a good morning to you,” she said, taking a slow, deliberate bite, clearly amused by his state. Asher barely spared her a glance, as if just now registering her presence. “Morning,” he muttered, his voice gruff as he set his phone down on the table. Catherine’s lips curved into a smirk. “So… how’s the little devil? Still no sign of making an appearance?” she asked, mockery lacing her tone. Asher’s expression darkened. His grip tightened slightly around his cof
CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Wait Asher walked down the stairs and slumped into a chair at the dining table, exhaustion and frustration etched into his features. He rubbed his temples, letting out a weary sigh as one of the three maids stepped forward to serve him breakfast. Leaning back into his seat, he exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on him. Across the table, Catherine sat two seats away, buttering her toast with a smug expression. The morning’s menu was a traditional English breakfast. “And a good morning to you,” she said, taking a slow, deliberate bite, clearly amused by his state. Asher barely spared her a glance, as if just now registering her presence. “Morning,” he muttered, his voice gruff as he set his phone down on the table. Catherine’s lips curved into a smirk. “So… how’s the little devil? Still no sign of making an appearance?” she asked, mockery lacing her tone. Asher’s expression darkened. His grip tightened slightly around his coffee cup.
CHAPTER ELEVEN: The WaitAsher walked down the stairs and slumped into a chair at the dining table, exhaustion and frustration etched into his features.He rubbed his temples, letting out a weary sigh as one of the three maids stepped forward to serve him breakfast. Leaning back into his seat, he exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on him.Across the table, Catherine sat two seats away, buttering her toast with a smug expression. The morning’s menu was a traditional English breakfast.“And a good morning to you,” she said, taking a slow, deliberate bite, clearly amused by his state.Asher barely spared her a glance, as if just now registering her presence.“Morning,” he muttered, his voice gruff as he set his phone down on the table.Catherine’s lips curved into a smirk. “So… how’s the little devil? Still no sign of making an appearance?” she asked, mockery lacing her tone.Asher’s expression darkened. His grip tightened slightly around his coffee cup.“Chloe
A few minutes passed, but Asher didn’t respond. He only stared at Catherine, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. “Do you love her, Asher?” Catherine repeated, her voice firmer this time. The silence between them stretched, each second tightening around her chest like a vice. She hated that Asher was keeping his silence for this long. Asher knew he didn’t love Dahlia. That was certain. So why couldn’t he just say it? Why was that simple, two-letter word caught in his throat? Frustrated, he let out a low grunt and snatched his phone from the table. “I’m not doing this, Catherine.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and started walking away. Catherine exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “If you walk away, Asher, you’re only proving me right—that you do love her.” That made him stop. Slowly, he turned back around, stepping toward her until they were face to face. His expression was unreadable, but his next words were sharp enough to cut. “I don’t l
Asher walked down the stairs and slumped into a chair at the dining table, exhaustion and frustration etched into his features. He rubbed his temples, letting out a weary sigh as one of the three maids stepped forward to serve him breakfast. Leaning back into his seat, he exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on him. Across the table, Catherine sat two seats away, buttering her toast with a smug expression. The morning’s menu was a traditional English breakfast. “And a good morning to you,” she said, taking a slow, deliberate bite, clearly amused by his state. Asher barely spared her a glance, as if just now registering her presence. “Morning,” he muttered, his voice gruff as he set his phone down on the table. Catherine’s lips curved into a smirk. “So… how’s the little devil? Still no sign of making an appearance?” she asked, mockery lacing her tone. Asher’s expression darkened. His grip tightened slightly around his coffee cup. “Chloe is not a devil. Do
The next morning was an uneasy one for Asher. Dressed in a deep navy cashmere Henley with the sleeves casually pushed up, paired with dark gray slim-fit wool trousers, and handcrafted Italian loafers in a muted shade, he exuded his usual air of effortless sophistication. His Vacheron Constantin watch sat snugly on his wrist, and his sleekly permed hair was neatly parted with precision. He looked every bit the businessman he was—composed, polished, in control. But today, he wasn’t heading to work. For the first time in years, Asher was breaking his flawless record of punctuality. And the reason for his absence was the very thing that had kept him awake all night, leaving dark circles beneath his eyes despite his carefully put-together appearance. His grip on his phone was tight, almost desperate. He clutched it like a lifeline. It was the same phone he had spent the night staring at, watching the seconds, minutes, and hours crawl toward dawn. Doubt gnawed at him. Maybe he was hopin
Dahlia’s gaze remained fixed on Asher, her voice laced with quiet confusion. “Why would you do that?”“I just want to,” Asher replied simply.She hesitated, searching his face for an answer beyond the words he had given. “Is it because… you pity me?”The thought unsettled her. She had seen a different side of Asher tonight, a man with depth, with understanding. The last thing she wanted was for that image to be tainted by pity.“No, no, no,” Asher rushed to refute her assumption, shaking his head adamantly. “It’s not pity. I don’t— I wouldn’t insult you like that. I know you wouldn’t want that.”Dahlia studied him for a moment, tilting her head slightly, still puzzled. “If it’s not pity, then what is it?”Asher exhaled, his voice softer now, thoughtful. “There’s something called a turning point,” he said. “And I want to give you that—the chance to change your story. In a way that would make your father proud.”Dahlia swallowed, her fingers absently rubbing the pendant around her neck,
“Two weeks until your birthday, Chloe! What do you think you’ll wish for?” Dahlia asked, gently coloring alongside Chloe in the living room as she tucked her lush brown hair behind her ears. Chloe paused for a moment, her eyes gazing up towards the ceiling in thought. “I haven’t decided yet. But I will soon!” she replied with a warm smile. Dahlia chuckled softly, picking up a bright yellow crayon to color in the sun she had drawn. “You’re taking your time, aren’t you? How hard can it be to decide on one wish?” she teased in a playful tone, her blue eyes crinkling with warmth. Chloe grinned, mirroring her caretaker’s lightheartedness. “Well, I’m thinking about what would be the best possible wish!” she exclaimed, a twinkle in her eye. “Maybe I’ll wish for… a puppy? Just as Dahlia opened her mouth to respond, the loud rumble of a car outside caught her attention and that of Chloe's. “Daddy’s home!” Chloe exclaimed, jumping to her feet and dashing to the entrance. Dahlia, with...
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