Chapter 6 The Former Mrs. Hearst
"Sir, the police have indicated that the fire wasn't an accident, but the house has been reduced to ashes, making it incredibly difficult to find any evidence," Thomas reported seriously in Damian's study, handing over the cases Ashley had recently worked on.
"Assault with intent?" Damian's gaze lingered on the names involved in the case, then stopped without flipping any further.
Mason?
Chairman of Springview Real Estate, renowned for having a brother-in-law notorious for dealing with stubborn tenants in ways best left unknown.
Mason's nephew had taken a liking to a girl at school and, in his pursuit, had someone beat up her boyfriend, resulting in the boy’s heart rupture and brain damage.
The final judgment was a decade behind bars.
And the lawyer who represented the victim was none other than Ashley.
Damian's fingers tapped the file rhythmically, the soft rustling betraying an undercurrent of frustration, "No need to look for more proof. It's definitely Mason pulling strings in the background. The one throwing punches must be his brother-in-law, and he's also behind the fire."
"What’s the plan?"
Thomas could almost predict Mason's fate. The icy aura emanating from the man was like a silent vow to make someone pay. "Contact Mason. Tell him I want to see him."
As Damian closed the folder, the image of the woman trapped in flames resurfaced in his mind.
She was huddled helplessly in a corner, her white bath towel a charcoal black, loosely draped and failing to cover her figure. Her exposed skin was an angry red from the fire's caress, her fingers blistered from clawing and trying to escape.
Her delicate face, framed by long hair, only revealed a sharp chin.
The moment Damian saw her injured, his anger surpassed even the ferocity of the flames. If the fire was no accident, there would be no mercy.
"Are you... going to handle it yourself, Sir? Mason isn’t worth it. Let me do the job."
"Of course, he's not worth it."
Not worth it? Yet he still planned to see him?
"The apartment Miss Astor lived in is gone, along with all her identification documents, it seems."
Damian hadn't paid much attention to her modest dwelling, but knowing that it was one of those small apartments, probably no more than a thousand square feet or so.
Astor, pampered and privileged as she was, used to reside in one of Rochester's finest estates, a sprawling penthouse with a view spanning over ten thousand square feet.
And now she was living in such humble circumstances? How could such a delicate woman tolerate such a fall from grace?
Thomas added with calculated nonchalance, "Miss Astor was still paying off the mortgage."
Damian was shocked, the mere mention of a mortgage sent a ripple of unease through him. Was the woman, an attorney, so strapped for cash that she couldn't afford a three-bedroom property?
What about those men she’d been with over the years?
A pulsing headache began at his temples. No, he couldn't afford to think about it; every memory only added to his ire.
Thomas spoke softly, "It seems Miss Astor might have nowhere to stay once she's discharged from the hospital."
Damian looked up, his gaze cold, "Good for her."
"But Miss Astor..."
"Stop calling her Miss Astor."
Thomas quickly corrected himself, "Ashley... She’s representing KM, and this case is bound to draw media attention. Reporters might disturb her at the hospital. Besides, without her ID, she would meet with difficulties after the discharge. With the urgency of the case, I worry she won't have time to find somewhere suitable to live as well."
Damian said, "What are you suggesting?"
Thomas dared not strategize in the presence of his boss, especially sensing his anger. He smartly dodged, "Nothing really, I was just noting Ashley's situation, considering we'll be dealing with her in the future."
Damian casually mentioned, "Just tell her that as a Legal Consultant on KM, there's a housing allowance involved. Find her a modest apartment in Henry Larson Villa. We can't have this delaying the court proceedings."
Henry Larson Villa was where Damian currently resided, a district of luxurious, spacious apartments occupied by Rochester's elites. No one there was worth less than a couple hundred million. And there was no apartment in Henry Larson Villa smaller than five thousand square feet.
After five days of recuperation in the hospital, Ashley returned to work. Harold entered her office with a grin, "Ashley, feeling better, huh? Why not take a few more days off?"
Seeing the look on his face, Ashley snickered, "Please, cut to the chase. No need for a warm-up act."
"Look at you. Sharp as ever and that's a good thing!"
He handed her a kraft paper bag and tapped it, "KM sure knows how to treat its people. Not only do they provide a handsome payment, but they also offer housing in the most prestigious neighborhood!"
Ashley skeptically opened the envelope and out fell a diamond-shaped key and a sleek access card. The card boldly displayed "Henry Larson Villa."
Indeed, it was the most sought-after area, an exclusive residential complex developed by KM International that people with money alone couldn't afford.
"What did they say?"
"Spencer mentioned their CEO's Legal Consultant frequently hosts distinguished guests. Having anything less impressive would tarnish the company's reputation... Don't take it personally, Ashley. The wealthy care about their image, just take it in stride. Besides, your place burned down, right? Where will you stay tonight?"
That certainly sounded like a Damian move. Vanity mattered.
From behind her computer, Hannah spoke up, "Ashley, you're welcome to stay with my parents and me, if you don't mind. I'll talk to them!"
"I can stay in a hotel," Ashley retorted, tossing the key on the desk, unwilling to be swayed by Damian's manipulation.
"But didn't your driver's license burn as well?" asked Harold.
Harold added, "Plus, why bear expensive hotel fees when you haven’t made a dime yet? Why dip into your savings? KM is offering this for work purposes. Don’t overthink it. Just stay there. Even if Damian is harboring thoughts about you, it’s not certain who’d be on the losing end."
Ashley lifted an eyelid, "Are you suggesting I trade on my looks?"
Harold chuckled, "If you're up for it, I bet you could make more than lawyering ever got you."
Hannah softly stroked Ashley's back, a mixture of sympathy and frustration brewing inside her. She had seen the charred house in the heart of downtown, a three-bedroom that wasn’t large but perfectly located. Just the down payment cost a fortune.
"Ashley, fixing up your place will cost a pretty penny. Why not take this chance to skin the fat cats for what they’re worth? After all, it's not like you're living there for free."
Harold joined in, "Henry Larson Villa’s security system is top-notch, you can be sure no one’s going to bother you there. Once the dust settles and you want to move out, just move. Geez, I never expected your first case to be such a tough cookie."
Ashley wasn’t naive; the so-called offer of accommodation might just be one of Damian’s ploys. Over three years of dealing with him, she’d fallen for his schemes more times than she cared to count.
But she was out of better options. Sometimes, even knowing the risk, you have to rise to the challenge.
"I’ll stay there, but you guys better pray I don't end up dead in there."