Gwendolyn was already waiting by the door.
Her voice shot out before I even hit the last step. ‘Mirabelle! Co in, co in. It’s freezing out here.’
Technically, she was my mother-in-law. Kind of.
I didn’t like her much, but she hadn’t done anything outrageous yet, and I wasn’t about to start a war over guesswork.
Plus, she was probably still traumatised from how much she spent the last ti we t.
‘I’d cleaned Ashton’s old room for you to stay the night.’ She bead at .
I gave her a vague smile and mumbled sothing noncommittal while pretending I hadn’t heard.
The staff had strung up a few lights in the sitting room.
There were balloons, cake boxes stacked on the sideboard, and a faint sll of polish and vanilla.
Once everything was set, I texted Ashton: [I’m at the Laurent estate. Co for dinner tonight.]
He called before I even put the phone down.
‘Where are you?’ His voice was low, tight.
I could hear the drag of his breathing like he was trying not to snap.
‘Gwendolyn invited ,’ I said. ‘She said it’s your birthday. We wanted to—’
‘Birthday,’ he cut in. Said it slow. Like it tasted off.
I could picture his face just from the silence—set jaw, narrowed eyes, that blank look he used when he was holding sothing in with both hands.
He really hated birthdays?
I thought he was like —just didn’t care for them.
I figured if soone rembered, he’d be quietly pleased.
Apparently not.
My chest tightened. I cleared my throat. ‘What’s wrong?’
He didn’t answer.
The line was dead quiet.
I glanced down to check if the call had ended.
It hadn’t.
Finally, a sharp breath hit the speaker, followed by his voice, low and flat. ‘I’ll be there soon.’
He hung up.
I stood still for a second, phone still in my hand.
Sothing was off.
That tone wasn’t annoyed.
It was worse.
I headed for the kitchen, but before I reached it, Edouard ca down the staircase.
He glanced at the cake box on the side table. ‘Whose birthday is it?’
He looked around, then stared straight at . His voice sharpened. ‘You’re throwing a party for Ashton?’
Gwendolyn ca out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a linen towel. ‘Of course. It’s his birthday. We’ll sit down as a family. You haven’t seen him in ages.’
Edouard stopped midway down the steps. His shoulders stiffened. ‘Did he agree to this?’
Gwendolyn gave a cheery glance. ‘Mirabelle’s here. He’ll co. He’s not a child anymore. It’s just dinner. What’s he going to object to?’
Edouard followed her gaze and locked onto . His expression dropped. He didn’t bother hiding it.
‘Fine. Do what you want,’ he muttered. ‘The two of you sneak off to get married and can’t be bothered to visit. No manners whatsoever. Now you sneak back here and plan an ambush...’
He shook his head.
I kept my mouth shut. I’d planned to greet him politely. That plan died quickly.
I reminded myself he was Ashton’s grandfather.
But Edouard’s reaction had given sothing away.
Ashton must’ve seriously hated birthdays, to the point his own family tiptoed around it.
Edouard hadn’t asked if he was coming. He’d asked if Ashton had ‘agreed’. Like it was a loaded question.
Sothing bad had happened once.
I didn’t know what, but it had left a mark on all of them.
They were twitchy.
I looked at Gwendolyn.
She was still smiling.
I stared at her a second longer.
That fake sweetness was starting to curdle.
Reginald was here too.
Earlier, he’d been polite enough, offered tea, asked about my work.
But the longer I stood there, the more it felt like they’d used to drag Ashton into sothing he’d never have agreed to on his own.
Before I could decide whether to confront her or just walk out, the front door burst open.
‘I’m ho!’
Declan stepped in, yanking off a heavy coat and tossing it at the housekeeper without looking.
Last ti I’d seen him, he’d had short black hair.
Now it was bright copper, long on top and shoved back like he’d styled it with his hands and no mirror.
His eyes landed on imdiately.
‘Well, shit, look who it is—Mira the sister-in-law. Didn’t know you were coming. Wait—Ashton’s back today?’
He glanced around. No Ashton.
Then he spotted the cake on the table. His whole face changed.
‘No. No. You’re not serious.’
He pointed at the cake. ‘Tell you didn’t. You didn’t try to throw him a birthday thing. Are you out of your minds? You want him to go nuclear?’
He looked around like he expected Ashton to appear swinging.
He glared at . ‘What is wrong with you? I thought you were the sensible one. Why push it? You think he won’t lose it over this? You think he won’t walk straight into court and file for divorce?’
Damn it, I’d definitely walked into a trap.
‘What’s the deal? Why can’t he have a birthday? What happened?’
He narrowed his eyes and stepped in closer. ‘You seriously don’t know?’
‘No.’
He let out a breath, half a sigh, half disbelief.
Just as he opened his mouth to answer, the housekeeper’s voice cut in from the hallway.
‘Mr Ashton is back.’
Everyone turned.
Ashton walked in fast, coat still on. Black wool, double-breasted, shoulders stiff.
His expression was flat and hard, jaw set, lips tight.
I’d never seen him look like that before.
It felt colder with him in the room.
No one spoke.
The only sound was his footsteps crossing the polished floor.
Gwendolyn moved first, a little too quickly. ‘You’re ho. Dinner’s ready, co sit. Let’s eat first.’
She tried to guide him towards the table.
Edouard and Reginald were already seated, hands folded, pretending nothing was wrong.
Declan and I stayed where we were.
Ashton stopped in front of the cake.
He stared at it, motionless.
Then his gaze swept across the room, before landing on .
His eyes didn’t warm. They stayed fixed, unreadable, cold.
My chest tightened.
He got to before I could speak.
Ashton grabbed my arm, yanked behind him, then flipped the entire table with one hand.
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