Ashford Estate

The train moved through the English countryside beneath a sky heavy with rain.

Ava sat near the window silently, her fingers curled around a paper coffee cup that had long gone cold. A book rested open on her lap, though she had not read a single line in over an hour.

Anxiety made concentration impossible.

Outside, forests blurred past in dark green streaks.

Inside, her chest felt tight.

She hated unfamiliar places.

Hated change.

Hated the strange feeling that her life was quietly shifting into something she could no longer control.

Her grandmother’s words echoed in her head.

> “Not every rich person is cruel, darling.”

Ava stared out the window.

Maybe not.

But power changed people.

And families like the Ashfords were built on power.

Her phone buzzed softly.

Gran ❤️

A small warmth touched her expression immediately.

“Did you eat?” her grandmother asked the moment Ava answered.

Ava smiled faintly. “Hello to you too.”

“That means no.”

“I had coffee.”

“Ava.”

“And half a sandwich.”

A dramatic sigh came from the other side. “You’re going to a mansion, not war.”

That almost made Ava laugh.

Almost.

“You can still come back if you hate it,” her grandmother said more softly this time.

The words settled heavily in Ava’s chest.

Come back.

Home.

Safety.

Part of her already wanted to turn around.

But another part — the exhausted, struggling part — knew she needed this opportunity.

Needed money.

Needed stability.

Needed a future bigger than survival.

“I’ll be okay,” she whispered.

Even she did not fully believe it.

—

By evening, the car sent from Ashford Estate entered enormous black iron gates.

Ava looked outside slowly.

And froze.

The estate looked less like a home and more like something pulled from gothic literature.

Massive stone architecture.

Towering windows glowing warm against the storm.

Gardens stretching endlessly into darkness.

Luxury wrapped in intimidation.

The driver noticed her silence through the mirror.

“First time seeing the estate?”

“Yes.”

“Most people react similarly.”

Terrified? she almost asked.

The car stopped near the entrance stairs.

Rain poured heavily now.

Before Ava could reach for her suitcase, a staff member already opened the door beneath a black umbrella.

Efficient.

Controlled.

Everything here moved with precision.

Ava stepped out carefully, her boots touching polished stone.

The mansion felt cold despite all its lights.

Beautiful.

But cold.

Inside, the grand entrance hall was breathtaking.

Crystal chandeliers reflected golden light across marble floors. Paintings lined the walls. A massive staircase curved upward elegantly.

It did not feel lived in.

It felt expensive.

“Miss Sinclair.”

A woman in her fifties approached with a warm smile.

“Welcome to Ashford Estate. I’m Mrs. Hastings, the house manager.”

Ava shook her hand politely.

“You must be exhausted after traveling.”

“A little.”

“You’ll settle quickly. Dinner is served at eight. Lady Ashford prefers everyone present.”

Everyone.

That word immediately made Ava uncomfortable.

Mrs. Hastings guided her upstairs through long corridors.

“You’ll mainly work in the west library archives,” she explained. “The collection is centuries old. Very few people are allowed access.”

Ava’s academic instincts immediately awakened despite her nerves.

“Original manuscripts?”

Mrs. Hastings smiled knowingly. “Thousands.”

For the first time since arriving, genuine excitement flickered through Ava.

Books.

History.

Restoration work.

Something familiar.

They stopped before large double doors.

“This is your room.”

Room was an understatement.

The space was larger than her entire cottage back in Scotland.

Soft beige interiors. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Fireplace. Private sitting area.

Luxury so excessive it almost embarrassed her.

Ava placed her bag down slowly.

“This is too much for one person.”

Mrs. Hastings laughed lightly. “The Ashfords don’t understand moderation.”

That much was obvious.

“Dinner begins shortly,” the older woman said. “And one warning, Miss Sinclair.”

Ava looked toward her.

“Try not to take Mr. Ashford personally.”

Something about her tone made Ava pause.

“He dislikes everyone equally,” Mrs. Hastings added dryly before leaving.

Wonderful.

Ava exhaled slowly after the door closed.

Rain tapped softly against the windows.

For a moment she simply stood there alone, absorbing the strange reality around her.

Then—

The lights flickered.

Ava froze instantly.

Once.

Twice.

Darkness swallowed the room for half a second.

Her breathing stopped.

Smoke.

Heat.

Screaming.

Fire crawling across walls—

The lights returned immediately.

But her hands were already shaking.

No.

No no no—

Ava stepped backward too quickly and hit the edge of the desk.

Her pulse thundered violently now.

It’s not real.

You’re safe.

A knock sounded suddenly at the door.

Ava nearly jumped.

“Miss Sinclair?”

Mrs. Hastings again.

“The storm affects electricity sometimes. Nothing to worry about.”

Ava closed her eyes briefly and forced air back into her lungs.

“I’m fine,” she managed quietly.

But she was not.

Not even close.

—

Downstairs, Evan Ashford walked into the dining hall while checking something on his phone.

His presence alone shifted the atmosphere immediately.

Staff straightened.

Conversations softened.

Power entered rooms before he spoke.

His younger sister Sophia noticed first.

“She’s here.”

Evan barely looked up. “Who?”

“The researcher from Scotland.”

“I don’t care.”

Sophia smirked. “Mother says she’s beautiful.”

That finally earned a glance.

Not interest.

Annoyance.

“She hired an academic researcher, not a model.”

“Those things aren’t mutually exclusive.”

Evan ignored her completely and sat down.

A moment later, the dining hall doors opened again.

And Ava walked in.

Silence.

Not loud silence.

The dangerous kind.

Evan looked up automatically.

Then paused.

She wore simple black clothing completely inappropriate for a billionaire mansion by elite standards. No diamonds. No designer labels screaming for attention.

Just elegance.

Natural.

Effortless.

Her long dark hair framed pale skin and striking grey-blue eyes that held exhaustion deeper than someone her age should carry.

And unlike most people entering Ashford Estate for the first time—

She did not look impressed.

Interesting.

Ava immediately felt every eye in the room.

Uncomfortable heat crawled up her spine.

Lady Ashford smiled warmly first.

“You must be Ava.”

Her voice held genuine kindness.