Chapter Two

Aiden 

"Thank you, Mr. Aiden, for gracing this occasion. The students loved it—it’s a dream come true for most of them," the Dean of Student Affairs said, stretching out his hand with a wide grin.

I shook his hand, my gaze straying momentarily to the small crowd of students gathered nearby. Even while trying to stay discreet, they couldn’t hide their excitement—some were blowing kisses, others snapping pictures from every angle they could find.

It was almost funny to be here now, considering how tedious the last two hours had felt while I gave a speech I hadn't exactly been thrilled to deliver.

I managed a polite smile as I shook the dean’s hand, noticing out of the corner of my eye a young photographer—maybe a student intern—trying to capture the moment. He was practically contorting himself, adjusting his camera over and over, looking for the perfect shot of me and the dean. The poor guy had been at it for hours, and judging by his furrowed brow, he still wasn’t satisfied.

The dean droned on, talking about his days as an alumnus and how he and my mother had been best friends back in the day. I nodded absently, my focus drifting back to the photographer who was now squatting at an odd angle.

I gestured subtly, pointing to the side. "Try from over there—you might get a better angle."

The dean glanced at him, a hint of pride in his eyes. "Oh, he’s good," he remarked, "One of our photography students. Very talented."

The photographer’s attention finally shifted to me, and for a split second, he seemed taken aback, as if my words had lingered a bit too long. Then he broke into a shy grin, adjusting his stance once more to take the shot I suggested.

"Thank you," he murmured, his boyish grin widening as he clicked a few final shots. I gave him a quick thumbs-up, and he nodded back, pleased.

Turning back to the dean, I was ready to wrap up. "Alright, Dean," I said, signaling the close of our little exchange.

"We’d love to have you again next time. It’s such an honor to have you here today. Your mother would be so proud—please send her my regards," the dean said, walking alongside me toward my car. "She and I used to come here all the time, always up to something with Student Affairs. We were quite the pair back then," he added with a nostalgic grin, gesturing toward the paths leading to his office. "Didn’t realize how much trouble we caused until I took on this role myself."

"I’m glad I could help today," I replied with a polite nod.

I glanced to the side, catching my assistant’s eye, and signaled for him to move ahead. Giving the dean one last nod, I picked up my pace toward the car.

But as I started down the path, a few faculty members I hadn’t had the chance to engage with earlier moved toward me, effectively halting my steps.

"Mr Aiden, I hope we’ll get a chance to speak more in the future," one of them said, offering a warm handshake. "Your presentation on AI in architecture was fascinating—truly unique."

"Thank you," I replied, shaking his hand and nodding at the other professors gathered nearby. They were all accomplished in their fields, and on any other day, I’d have been genuinely interested in continuing the conversation.

"We’ll have to revisit those topics sometime," added another professor whose name I couldn’t quite recall, though we’d spoken earlier.

"I’d love that. Look forward to an invitation from me soon—I’d be delighted if you could join," I replied.

They all nodded with friendly smiles, and after a few more quick goodbyes, I finally reached my car. As soon as the door opened, I slid in and shut it, feeling an immediate sense of calm as the outside noise faded, leaving just the quiet hum of the car interior. I leaned back into the seat,  closed my eyes, letting the relief settle in and momentarily pushing the day’s obligations from my mind.

I’d finally escaped Ms. Victoria’s relentless insistence about this event, which had practically been forced down my throat. 

"I’m so proud of everything you’ve achieved—I just have to show you off!" 

As the car jerked forward, signaling we were on the move, I sighed, sinking deeper into the seat. Just as a sense of peace began to settle over me, and edges of exhaustion pulling me toward much-needed rest.

A faint buzzing against my jacket snapped me out of my rest, jolting me slightly. My eyes flew open in surprise until I realized it was just my phone. I fished it out, glanced at the screen, and sighed when I saw "Ms. Victoria" flashing across the caller ID. Without a second thought, I swiped to ignore the call and toggled the phone to flight mode. Then, I tapped the shoulder of my assistant, seated beside me, and handed it to him.

Leaning back, I closed my eyes again, letting myself sink into the welcome silence.  Just as I was slipping back into a calm, muted voice came close to my ear.

“Sir?” It was my assistant, hesitant yet persistent. A second “Sir?” followed, cutting through the fog of near-sleep.

I blinked, gathering my bearings. One glance around and I realized we’d arrived—I was home.

I nodded to my assistant, who was already reaching to open his door. "It's fine," I muttered, making a move to open mine. But he ignored the cue, stepping out quickly to open it for me anyway. As I climbed out, he held up my phone, waving it gently.

“I spoke to Ms. Victoria earlier. She... well, she’ll probably keep calling until you pick up,” he said, handing me the phone with a sympathetic smile. In his careful way, he was letting me know that my mother was throwing yet another fit over my lack of response to her latest errand.

I took the phone from him with a quiet “Thanks.” 

Ms. Victoria is predictable that way; her impatience comes hand in hand with selfishness, maybe even a bit of manipulation. But, honestly, it was part of what made her so resilient—almost admirable in a twisted way. For better or worse, my mother knew exactly how to take care of herself.

And she needed to. Every Kensington carried that same armor: stubborn, unapologetic, and ready to defend themselves by any means necessary, even if it came down to something as cutthroat as blackmail.

In the past year alone, my mother had somehow managed to cycle through her usual routine: harassing her household staff, getting sued by one of her so-called friends, and, most recently, reigniting an old legal battle with my father’s family. Life with Ms. Victoria was never dull.

I allowed myself a slight smile, already bracing for whatever storm would hit next—which I planned to avoid as much as possible.

My mother’s "love language" for me—if you could call it that—was public display. The child she’d left with the Kensingtons since he was four, who she only visited occasionally to announce a new sibling somewhere across the country, was somehow someone she’d flaunt. Maybe because I was her only child whose family was the wealthiest.

Growing up, I was lucky to see her once, maybe twice, a year. When she came, she was good at performing all her motherly duties in two weeks before vanishing again. We had lots of pictures, toys, and stories—you’d think we’d spent my entire childhood glued together.

People who glimpsed our dynamic often offered unsolicited advice: “Cut her off.” I’d hear it almost daily. And while the idea made sense, I wouldn’t. At least she was there, even if only in name and for show. She wasn’t much different from anyone else in my life, if I’m honest—maybe even the easiest to manage. The Kensingtons are generally around, and a constant pain in my ass.

As I stepped into view of the garden, my gaze drifted to the far corner. The soil was freshly turned; the fruits I’d painstakingly cultivated had been harvested. Gone. I approached the door, barely reaching it before it swung open, and I was met with Ms. Rose’s familiar face.

“Welcome home, Mr. Aiden.”

“Thank you, Rose.” I shrugged off my suit jacket and handed it to her. “I thought you’d be gone by the time I got here.”

“I stayed to introduce you to your new employee” she said, a hint of irony in her smile.

I loosened my shirt cuffs and climbed the stairs without a word. We’d already discussed the new housekeeper, and I didn’t feel the need to meet her just yet. Behind me, Rose called out, reminding me that the woman was waiting downstairs.

Up in my room, I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it into the laundry bin along with my trousers. I headed to the closet, reaching mindlessly for a pair of joggers when the door creaked open.

“Mr. Aiden?”

“Mmm?”

“Should I tell her to leave? You might be… caught off guard if you don’t know what she looks like when you run into her.”

I smirked, slipping into the joggers. “I thought her main job was to avoid me.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Rose said as I walked out of the closet toward her.

“All right, let’s get this over with.” 

Her face lit up, deepening the fine lines around her mouth as she smiled.

“Perhaps you’d like to put on a shirt?”

“Why? This isn’t a formal meeting, is it?”

“Not at all,” she replied hastily. “You just need to see her, that’s all.” She turned, leading the way down.

“Did William handle the garden harvest?”

“Yes, he did. I told him to. There was so much, and we spent the entire afternoon packing it all away. It would’ve been far too much work for you alone.”

I gave a small nod, understanding her concern, though not entirely agreeing. I’d planted that garden myself and would have gladly done the harvesting, too. But Rose was one person that i would gladly allow take those decisions around here— Can’t do much about it anyways, its part of  hiring someone who’d been with you since your teenage years. She was the only one I’d managed to pull from the Kensington estate, and now she was here, a fixture in my life, whether I liked it or not.

“Ms. Victoria called me earlier,” she said softly, her voice carrying a hint of humor. “She mentioned you should start picking up your phone more often.” I could tell from her tone that there was no way my mother would’ve delivered that message so gently. They must’ve argued for minutes just to get the point across.

I let out a small sigh. “Guess I’ll have to make her stop calling you, then.” I took the laundry bin from her as we started down the stairs.

She wrinkled her nose and gave a quick wave. “It’s fine. I can handle it.” She reached for the laundry bin as we reached the bottom step.

“Everyone’s gone now?”

“Yes, except the new lady.”

“Good.” I made my way to the kitchen,  and poured myself a glass of water from the pitcher sitting on the counter. As I drank, I could sense others in the room, but I didn’t bother looking up. Rose’s new hire was here, I assumed, but I wasn’t exactly in a rush for introductions.

I grabbed a few almonds from a jar, popping one into my mouth just as Rose cleared her throat announcing their presence, standing beside the new arrival. I looked up, my brow raised as I sized up the young woman beside her.

She looked younger than I’d expected, almost too young for the role. My gaze couldn’t quite leave her as she commanded attention with a quiet confidence and i doubted for a moment that she was here for the job but Her outfit was typical for an interview—plain trousers and a blazer— still, her face was another story entirely. 

She had a kind of effortless beauty that was almost striking, like she wasn’t even trying. High cheekbones framed her face with a sculpted elegance, and her skin had a natural, luminous warmth. Her full, well-defined lips softened her otherwise sharp features, adding a touch of softness, almost like a contrast designed to make her more captivating.

Her eyes held mine, unwavering,  framed by her thick lashes. They were a striking shade, somewhere between stormy blue and rich gray, shifting with the light.

 As her mouth hinted at a smile, a flicker of something—a flash of nervousness, somehow—softened her confident stare. Yet she held her ground, her gaze so intense it felt like she was peering straight into my thoughts.

I suddenly wished I’d bothered to put on a shirt; her gaze alone had goosebumps prickling across my skin. Clearing my throat, I turned to Rose.

“Our new full-time housekeeper,” Rose announced with a quick glance at the young woman.

Her validation of my suspicion made it even more real now, You’ve got to be kidding. I was expecting someone Rose’s age—not… her. Young, beautiful, and — My eyes traced over her again, trying to get a read on her.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Aiden,” she said, her voice steady but  with an hint of uncertainty behind her voice, as if she were still recovering from her own surprise. “I’m Nelly.”

I glanced back at Rose for confirmation, then back to Nelly, nodding as I leaned against the kitchen island. Her eyes widened briefly, almost startled, but then her expression settled, amusement flickering over her features. 

Why would a young woman like her want a job as a full-time housekeeper in the middle of nowhere?does she even have an experience? I popped another almond nut in my mouth.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Aiden,” she repeated, her tone growing warmer, maybe more deliberate, as if rehearsed. “Ms. Rose filled me in on what I need to know.”

“Like?” I prompted.

She hesitated, then blinked, her face flushing slightly. “Huh? I mean… sir,” she added hastily. “That I’m supposed to… avoid you at all costs and just stick to my job.”

I let out a low laugh. “I doubt Ms. Rose even knows what my true wishes are,” I murmured, straightening from the counter.

“I’ll… I’ll do my best to meet them,” she replied, her voice suddenly louder. “I did tell Ms. Rose how much I wanted this—”

“It’s fine, Nelly? ”

“Yes, Nelly,” she affirmed quickly, almost nervously.

“I’m done here,” I said, turning to Rose, already heading toward the garden.

“What do you mean, you’re done here? Am I not hired?” Her voice cut through the room, laced with urgency.

“Nelly!” Rose scolded, her voice taking on a strict tone. “He’s not the hiring manager.”

“I mean…” Nelly’s voice softened, barely audible but clear enough. “It seemed like he… wasn’t too interested in having me around.”

“Why should he be?” Rose shot back, exasperated. “You’re an employee”

“That’s the point,” she mumbled, sounding flustered. “I mean… I am hired, right?”

“Yes, you are,” Rose replied, sounding like a disgruntled grandmother. I had never seen her look so annoyed.

I turned back toward them, watching as Rose and Nelly talked about me as if I were across the country instead of across the kitchen. Nelly’s shoulders dropped in relief, her back still to me. Just as she turned around, she spotted me, eyes widening for a split second before she rearranged her face into a bright, too-wide smile.

“I’m sorry, but… I am hired, right?” she mouthed silently, her eyes asking a dozen questions.

My face must have given her all the answer she needed because that overly cheerful expression dimmed slightly, and she seemed to realize I might be more than she’d bargained for.