At four o'clock sharp, the growl of a beat-up motorcycle cut through the quiet of the Ashford estate gates. The rider's posture was all wrong for the bike — too composed, too powerful, like a racehorse strapped to a plow. This was Adrian Sterling, fully transformed into Ryan.
The disguise was meticulous: a dark fitted t-shirt that showed off arms sculpted by years of personal training, sturdy cargo pants, and a simple leather-strap watch. He killed the engine and pulled off his helmet. His hair fell slightly mussed.
He studied the tall wrought-iron gates — a sharp contrast to his rattling motorcycle. Adrian allowed himself a crooked smile. He'd expected his father's business partner to keep a well-guarded home.
In the security booth sat a middle-aged man whose uniform bore the embroidered name Carl. His face was friendly, but his eyes stayed alert. He was married to Maggie, the household cook.
"Good afternoon, sir. I'm Ryan. Mr. Harrison Ashford called me in for a driver interview." Adrian kept his voice to a practiced husky register — slightly deferential, but still confident.
Carl rose quickly. He'd already been told to expect someone. He studied Ryan for a beat — the guy's build and bearing seemed a cut above most chauffeur applicants. But he pushed the thought aside.
"Oh, right. Come on in, Ryan. Let me show you the way to the main entrance. Mr. Ashford's expecting you." Carl swung open the pedestrian gate with a warm nod. "I'm Carl, head of security here. Glad to have you."
"Thanks, Carl. Good to meet you," Ryan replied, gripping the man's hand firmly.
He stepped through and crossed the immaculately kept front lawn toward the imposing wooden doors of the main house. He deliberately slowed his pace. Before knocking, he reached into his shirt pocket and slipped on a pair of rimless clear-lens glasses — a vital prop, designed to soften his hawkish stare and project the careful, bookish air that old-money families expected from their staff.
He knocked twice.
The door opened to reveal Maggie. The older woman wore a tired smile after a long day's work.
"Ryan?"
"That's me." He gave her a friendly nod.
"Come in, please. Mr. Ashford's waiting for you," Maggie said, ushering him into a foyer of polished marble and antique sculptures.
"Thank you, ma'am," Ryan said politely.
Maggie paused. It had been a long time since a new hire had called her ma'am. Most just called her by name, if they bothered with any courtesy at all.
"I'll go get Mr. Ashford. Make yourself comfortable," she said, a touch flustered by his manners.
Harrison Ashford appeared from the hallway in a polo shirt and pressed slacks. He greeted Ryan with a wave and led him straight to his study.
"Ryan, have a seat. I'm Harrison Ashford." His voice was direct, no-nonsense.
"Thank you, Mr. Ashford. I'm Ryan. Ready to work," Adrian replied, now fully in character — calm, professional, and just stiff enough to sell the part.
Harrison appraised him. The young man carried himself a cut above any driver he'd ever hired, and his build was striking. But the resume had already checked every box.
"Your work history looks solid, Ryan. Security driving certification, martial arts training — those are real plusses," Harrison said, flipping through the file. "This is a full-time, live-in position. You'll stay in the staff quarters out back. Your main responsibility is driving my younger daughter, Bianca. She's busy with college and her social schedule. My older daughter, Kira, may also need the occasional ride to the cafe where she works."
"Understood, Mr. Ashford. I have no dependents, and I'm available around the clock. I'll guarantee the safety of both your daughters." Ryan's voice was crisp and deliberate.
Harrison nodded, satisfied. The man hadn't asked a single question about salary or benefits — the highest recommendation, in Harrison's mind. All professionalism, no entitlement. What Harrison didn't know was that Ryan could have bought ten of his companies without breaking a sweat.
"All right. Interview's over. You're hired. Be here by six tomorrow morning. Maggie will show you your room and the setup. Tonight, head home and pack your things."
"Thank you, Mr. Ashford. I'll give you my best." Adrian shook the man's hand — a deal sealed.
On his way out, Ryan paused in the main hallway. His attention snagged on a large framed photograph mounted on the wall: the Ashford family portrait.
It had been taken a few years back. Harrison and Diana, both smiling broadly, flanked by two beautiful young women.
Ryan stepped closer, his gaze sharpening behind the clear lenses. One of the daughters drew his focus. Her smile was understated, her expression gentler than the others, her clothing simpler. She was undeniably beautiful, but the aura she gave off was quieter — almost shy in the photograph.
He found himself hoping she was the one his family had chosen for him. Though he still couldn't tell whether she was Bianca or Harrison's other daughter.
The luxury mall downtown glittered that afternoon with crystal chandeliers and the heady perfume of wealth. Through the crowd of designer-clad shoppers, Bianca Ashford strode with the confidence of someone who owned every marble tile beneath her heels.
Beside her, Sarah — her best friend from the Interior Design program — hurried to keep pace.
"Sarah, look at that bag. Do you think the champagne limited edition would pop more than the navy?" Bianca pointed at a high-end boutique display, her manicured fingertip catching the light.
"The champagne is more elegant, Bian. It'll go perfectly with your Dior." Sarah's voice held a note of genuine awe.
Bianca flashed a satisfied smile. "Obviously. Tonight, I need to be flawless."
"What's tonight, anyway? You seem really intense about it." Sarah's curiosity got the better of her.
Bianca turned on her heel, her expression shifting to something between smug and conspiratorial. She pulled Sarah toward a quieter corner.
"Tonight, my family's been invited to a private dinner by... the Sterlings."
Sarah's eyes went round. "The Sterlings? Wait — you mean Sterling Group? The ones with mega real estate projects on every block in the city?"
Bianca lifted her chin, savoring the reaction.
"Who else? My dad and Richard Sterling go way back. Business partners."
Sarah looked genuinely stunned. "Oh my God, Bianca. That's insane. Your family is seriously in the big leagues."
"Obviously." Bianca tossed her hair. "And I need to look the part, because tonight isn't just any dinner. It's a matchmaking dinner."
Sarah nearly tripped. "Matchmaking?! With who? The heir?"
"Who else would it be? Adrian Sterling. Thirty-three, sole heir, gorgeous, athletic, and — most importantly — richer than God." Bianca delivered the last part like a prayer, as if the name itself were sacred.
"I can't believe this, Bian. You're going to be Mrs. Sterling?" Sarah stared at her with a cocktail of envy and admiration.
"I'm going to make sure of it, Sarah. I'm not letting a chance like this slip. Everything my family has right now? Pocket change compared to the Sterlings. I'll live like a queen. No more stressing about boring lectures and stupid assignments."
She checked her gold watch. "Enough talking. Grab the champagne bag and those new heels that just came in. After this, we're going straight to the salon. I need the full treatment — head to toe. My skin has to glow, my hair has to have volume, my nails have to be perfect. Every single detail needs to scream Sterling-worthy, especially for Adrian himself."
After dropping several thousand dollars without blinking, Bianca and Sarah rushed to her regular salon. In Bianca's mind, investing in her appearance was the first strategic move toward securing her future as Mrs. Sterling.
***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***
Updated 133 Episodes
Download
Like this story? Download the app to keep your reading history.
Comments