5. P E N E L O P E

1.       PENELOPE

"I have plans for tomorrow night," I announce to Ashby as he settles into my living room. He had come over for the night, his usual calm demeanour slightly troubled by whatever had transpired with his brother earlier.

"With me?" he inquires, his expression curious.

I clear my throat, hesitant to divulge the truth. "No, it's with a friend from work," I reply, my voice tinged with unease.

Ashby raises an eyebrow, his gaze probing. "What's your friend's name?"

"Jeanette," I respond, feeling a pang of guilt for the lie slipping easily from my lips.

I silently scold myself for falling into this pattern of deception. It's becoming too easy, too comfortable.

"Sounds like a girls' night out," Ashby remarks cheerfully, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Where are you planning to go?"

"Acre's," I admit, noting the surprise in his expression at the mention of the upscale restaurant.

"Yeah, she's been wanting to go, and she asked me to join her," I explain, feeling the weight of guilt settle in the pit of my stomach. "It's not really within my budget, but she's been so kind to me, I couldn't refuse."

Ashby sighs and reaches for his wallet, a gesture that catches me off guard. He withdraws his credit card and extends it to me, a silent offering of support.

"Here," he says softly, meeting my gaze with unwavering sincerity. "I promised to take care of you, didn't I?"

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his generosity. I feel undeserving of such kindness, unworthy of his trust.

"Thank you," I murmur, my voice choked with emotion, as I accept the card.

"Anything for my baby," he replies, his smile warm and reassuring as he presses a kiss to my cheek.

In the aftermath of our recent kiss, we had both acknowledged our growing feelings for each other, but had agreed to take things slow, cautious of the complexities that lay ahead.

I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close as he settles onto my bed. His presence is comforting, his strength a reassuring anchor in the tumultuous sea of my emotions.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, his blue eyes sparkling with affection. "Those green eyes of yours are captivating."

I chuckle softly, the tension easing from my shoulders. "You've always sucked at biology," I tease, a fond smile playing on my lips. "But thank you.

His request to braid his hair before bed is a familiar one, a ritual we've shared since we were teenagers. I nod, retrieving a comb and deftly weaving his hair into a simple braid down the middle of his head.

I hand him a mirror, meeting his gaze in the reflection. "Perfect like always," I assure him, a sense of comfort settling between us.

As I examine the braid, I can't help but notice the split ends that have begun to emerge—a testament to the passage of time and the bond we've shared over the years.

"You need to get it washed soon," I advise gently, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I'm seeing split ends."

In this moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of our shared space, I find solace in the familiarity of our bond—a bond that transcends words and gestures, a bond forged in the depths of our shared history.

Ashby rolls his eyes, the weariness evident in his expression. "I haven't had time, Penny," he explains, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. "Work has been absolutely insane lately. I promise I'll take care of it this weekend."

I plant a kiss on his cheek before settling onto the bed, the soft comforter enveloping me like a warm embrace. "So, what was the fight with your brother about?"

He reclines beside me, his movements slow and deliberate. "It was between Henry and me."

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "You had a fight with the King?"

My mind races with questions and concerns. Isn't he supposed to be behind bars or worse?

"Yeah, I did," Ashby confirms, his tone tinged with resignation. "He's my best friend and my boss. Firing me would only complicate things for him."

The revelation catches me off guard. I had no idea their relationship ran so deep. "You never mentioned how close you were to him."

"We go way back," he explains, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "I've known him since I was ten. Our dads used to take us to the castle nearly every weekend, and we'd spend hours playing together."

I'm stunned by the revelation. After all these years, I had assumed Ashby merely worked for the King. "What was the fight about?"

He offers a dismissive chuckle. "Oh, you know how it is with guys. Nothing serious."

But his evasive answer leaves me sceptical. I sense there's more to the story than he's letting on.

"As long as you two can work it out," I reply, trying to mask my concern. "It's okay."

He sits up, concern etched on his features. "You need to rest, Penny."

I protest with a pout, "But I'm not tired."

"Don't start with me, young lady," he chides, his tone both stern and playful.

I giggle at his mock reprimand. "Fine, then. Let's watch a movie."

But Ashby shakes his head with a gentle smile. "We're going to sleep."

Disappointed, I relent. "Fine, but we're definitely binge-watching this weekend."

A mischievous grin lights up his face. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

We slip beneath the covers, his arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace. As he presses a tender kiss to the top of my head, I feel a sense of peace wash over me.

"Goodnight, Penny," he murmurs softly.

"Night, night," I reply, snuggling closer to him as sleep begins to claim me.

Next Day

With just thirty minutes left until my date, I was frantically trying to tame my unruly hair, each strand seeming to have a mind of its own. Frustration mounted as I struggled with the rebellious locks, the minutes ticking away relentlessly.

"Honey, if you don't relax, you'll end up cutting your hair off," Aunt Linda's voice floats in from behind me, her gentle admonishment laced with concern.

I release a huff of exasperation, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease as Aunt Linda effortlessly gathers my hair into a sleek high puff ponytail. Her skilled fingers work with practiced ease, weaving the strands into a neat arrangement.

"There," she declares with a satisfied smile, giving my shoulders a comforting rub.

"Thank you, Nana," I offer, gratitude warming my voice as I glance at her reflection in the mirror.

Returning to the room with a small box in hand, Aunt Linda opens it to reveal a delicate silver necklace adorned with vibrant purple gemstones. My breath catches at the sight of it; the piece is breathtakingly beautiful.

"This was your mother's," Aunt Linda explains, lifting the necklace from its velvet cushion. "She told me to give it to you when you came of age, but you know how forgetful I am."

I chuckle softly, touched by her thoughtfulness. "It's okay, Nana."

With gentle hands, she fastens the necklace around my neck, the cool metal glinting against my skin. I meet my own gaze in the mirror, marvelling at how the necklace complements the elegant simplicity of my black dress.

"You look just like your mama," Aunt Linda remarks tearfully, her voice thick with emotion.

Moved by her words, I rise from my seat and envelop her in a warm hug. "It's okay, Nana."

"Oh, my baby," she murmurs, tears glistening in her eyes. "She would be so proud of you."

A sharp beep interrupts the tender moment, signalling the arrival of my ride. With a quick farewell, I grab my purse and phone, hurrying out of the house to meet Mr. Goodwill, who leans casually against his sleek Ferrari with a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

"Penelope," he murmurs, his voice sliding over my name like a predatory whisper, his eyes devouring me with hunger.

Suppressing a shiver, I reply, "Thank you, you look quite dashing yourself, sir."

His response is a sinister smirk as he opens the car door, gesturing for me to slide in. I comply, the tension in the air palpable as he takes his place behind the wheel. The engine purrs to life, and we glide into the night, the silence between us heavy with unspoken words.

Acre's looms into view, its exterior bathed in soft light, a beacon of elegance and sophistication. Despite the bustling activity outside, an eerie stillness settles over me as I contemplate the evening ahead. I'm not in the mood for conversation, and the prospect of spending an evening with this man fills me with unease.

As we approach the entrance, Mr. Goodwill's grip on my arm tightens, sending a jolt of discomfort through me. I try to pull away, but his hold remains firm as he leans in, his breath hot against my ear.

"Don't you dare embarrass me," he hisses, his tone laced with menace.

I nod hastily, relief flooding me as he releases his grip, his parting kiss and cocky smile doing little to ease my apprehension.

Taking a deep breath, I plaster on a smile and follow him into the restaurant. My relief is short-lived as I catch sight of Henry, Ashby, Archie, and another unfamiliar face seated at a distant table. Panic flares within me – what are they doing here? Could Ashby have betrayed my confidence? The thought sends a shiver down my spine.

Seated at our table, we're greeted by Rose, a young brunette server whose disdainful glance at me does not go unnoticed. Suppressing a sigh, I return her smile, though her demeanour leaves much to be desired.

"Hello, my name is Rose, and I’ll be your waiter for the night," she announces, her tone cool and detached as she hands us our menus.

Mr. Goodwill orders a bottle of wine, and as we peruse the menu, I can't help but feel a sense of resignation settle over me. His choice of meal for me – a bland salad and roasted vegetables – speaks volumes, but I bite back any objections, unwilling to rock the boat.

As the night wears on, conversation flows awkwardly between us, his inquiries ranging from mundane to intrusive. Despite his flaws, I can't help but acknowledge that he's not entirely unpleasant – if only he could temper his aggression.

With Mr. Goodwill excusing himself to the restroom, I'm left alone with my thoughts, my phone buzzing with a message from Ashby.

"I see you."

I glance up, meeting the piercing gazes of both Henry and Ashby, their expressions dark and foreboding. Henry rises from his seat and strides purposefully toward me, taking Mr. Goodwill's place at the table.

"Penny, I never expected to see you again," he says, his smile sending a rush of warmth through me.

My cheeks flush as I stammer, "Likewise."

He takes my hand in his, and a jolt of electricity courses through me at his touch. "You look absolutely stunning tonight," he compliments, his words causing my heart to flutter.

Before I can respond, a shadow falls over us, and Mr. Goodwill looms menacingly above, his presence casting a pall over the moment.

"Excuse me, that’s my chair you’re sitting on," he interjects sharply.

I withdraw my hand hastily, my eyes widening in alarm as Mr. Goodwill's voice rings out with authority. Henry rises to his full height, meeting Mr. Goodwill's gaze with unwavering resolve.

"That is no way to treat a lady. Apologize," Henry demands, his tone firm and unwavering.

Mr. Goodwill scoffs, his demeanour brimming with arrogance. "She’s my date, and I can do as I please."

Henry's response is swift and cutting. "Does your date know about your history? Your violence, your drug abuse, your accusations of assault? Apologize, now."

Tension crackles in the air as Mr. Goodwill steps closer, his hostility palpable. Henry's gaze flickers to me, silently urging me to retreat. I rise from my seat, but Mr. Goodwill's grip tightens on my arm, his dark eyes flashing with menace.

"You're not going anywhere," he snarls, his grip like a vice around my wrist.

Panic surges within me as I struggle against his hold, but his strength is overwhelming. With a forceful shove, he sends me sprawling back into the chair, the impact reverberating through my body.

Before I can protest, a sharp crack echoes through the air as Mr. Goodwill's hand connects with my cheek, the pain searing through me like a white-hot flame.

And then chaos erupts.

Henry launches himself at Mr. Goodwill, fists flying in a blur of motion. Archie materializes beside me, guiding me to safety as the violence unfolds before us. Clinging to Archie, I bury my face in his chest, tears streaming down my cheeks as the full weight of the situation crashes down upon me.

What have I done?