Chapter 10 - The House on the Hill
A year later.
The high iron gates of the Ashworth estate stood wide open under a bright, clear blue summer sky.
The long driveway was lined with blooming white hydrangeas and tall green maples, their leaves rustling softly in the warm coastal breeze.
In the courtyard, a simple wooden table had been set up under the shade of the grand oak tree.
Sitting around the table were Nora, Milo, Ivy—who was now nineteen and enrolled in a local graphic design college paid for by the Ashworth foundation—Marcus, and four members of the grounds staff. They were drinking fresh lemonade, eating sandwiches, and laughing loudly at a story Milo was telling about a runaway lawnmower.
Standing on the porch of the main house, holding a small copper watering can, was Elena.
She wore a simple, cream-colored summer dress, her hair loosely tied back with a blue ribbon. She looked out over the courtyard, her face glowing with a deep, quiet contentment.
A pair of strong arms wrapped gently around her waist from behind.
Damon leaned his chin against her shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to her neck. "What are you staring at?"
"The house," Elena said softly, laying her hands over his. "It doesn't look like a cage anymore."
Damon looked out at the sunny courtyard, at the laughing staff, at the wide-open iron gates that let the ocean breeze flow freely through the entire property.
"That’s because the warden left," Damon murmured into her hair. "And the lady of the house tore down the bars."
"I’m still keeping the estate manager title," Elena reminded him with a dry, playful tilt of her head. "Your autumn maintenance budget is three percent over projection."
Damon let out a rich, warm laugh, turning her in his arms until she was facing him.
"You can review my budget all you want, Mrs. Ashworth," Damon smiled, looking down into her clear, fearless eyes. "As long as you promise to stay for the evening shift."
May you like
Elena looked up at the grand stone house—the house where she had once knelt on a cold marble floor beside a crying child, armed with nothing but her own dignity and a refusal to look away.
She smiled, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down into a kiss that echoed through the quiet, sunlit gardens of the home they had built together.
