Unmarried
I was already halfway to the Sun estate when my phone rang.
Grandfather.
I considered letting it go.
I didn’t.
“Reporters are outside your parents’ house,” he said immediately, his voice sharp and controlled, “They’re circling it like vultures.”
My grip on the steering wheel tightened.
The house.
Not my penthouse.
Not my office.
The house my parents left me.
“They’ve connected you to the White family statement,” he continued. “They’re digging. Fast.”
“Let them dig,” I replied calmly.
“You are being careless.”
“No,” I said. “I’m being deliberate.”
A pause.
Heavy. Measuring.
“You were seen leaving your penthouse,” he added. “Where are you going?”
“I handled the White family,” I said evenly. “I won’t be associated with Oscar again.”
“That was never the concern,” he snapped. “The concern is your position. You are still unmarried. Vulnerable. And I will not have the Ash name dragged through public mud.” 1
“I’m not unmarried.”
Silence.
“What did you say?”
“I got married today.”
The temperature of the call dropped instantly.
“To whom?”
“A Sun.”
The reaction was immediate.
“Which Sun?” he demanded. “There are multiple branches. Which one, Amber?”
“You’ll know soon enough.”
“You will not play games with me. I had negotiations in place. A strategic alliance prepared. Do you understand what you’ve
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risked?”
“I understand exactly what secured.”
“Name him.”
I looked ahead as the distant outline of the Sun estate came into view.
“No.”
And I ended the call.
The Sun estate stood ahead of me like a fortress carved from wealth and history.
My phone rang, this time it was Jason.
I answered through the car speakers.
“Amber,” he said without greeting. “Oscar White released the statement. He’s accusing you of wrongful use of funds and investment mismanagement. I’m already doing damage control.”
Of course he was.
Efficient. Protective. Strategic.
“Don’t,” I said calmly.
There was a beat of silence. “Don’t?”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Amber, this isn’t social gossip. It’s a formal corporate accusation. Investors are calling. The media picked it up within minutes.”
“Good,” I replied.
“Good?” His tone sharpened.
“Yes. Let it circulate. I’ll respond publicly.”
A pause.
“You’re planning something.”
“I’ll give an interview in two days. Prime platform. Maximum reach.”
“You’re going to turn this around.”
“I’m going to end it.”
He exhaled slowly. “We’ll handle it together.”
“I know. But let me open this one.”
Another brief silence.
The title settled over me like armor.
The gates opened.
I parked near the main entrance.
And that’s when I saw her.
A little girl being dragged toward the side of the estate by a sharply dressed woman in a tailored beige suit.
The woman’s posture was composed. Elegant.
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Her grip was not
The little girl struggled to keep up, her small shoes scraping against the stone.
I froze.
I recognized her instantly.
From the framed photograph in Jason’s office.
Alison.
Jason’s daughter.
I stepped out of the car without thinking, leaving my belongings behind, and followed them along the curved side of the house.
They stopped near a quiet garden wall, partially shielded from view.
The woman spun Alison around sharply.
“How many times do I have to tell you?” she hissed. “When we are with the other Sun mothers, you call me Mama.”
Alison’s small voice trembled. “But… you’re not my-”
The slap came fast.
Clean. Controlled.
Alison stumbled, tears spilling instantly.
“You will not embarrass me again,” the woman snapped. “Do you understand? If you want to stay here, you will behave.”
She shoved the child.
Alison hit the ground.
And something inside me shifted from calm… to cold.
Very cold.

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