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CHAPTER 4: NATHAN ASHFORD

“Is this some sort of joke?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Gabriel shakes his head. “No, ma’am; your application was reviewed and you were shortlisted.”

“But I didn’t submit an application.”

Gabriel turns away from me and faces his companions. “Take him away,” he instructs, pointing to Professor Lincoln. Then, he turns to the subject in question. “You’ll be disciplined accordingly; say goodbye to your job.”

Lincoln sneers as he stands. “I have tenure, you bastard, you can’t do shit to—” His face snaps to the left, the sound of the slap Gabriel gives him resounding through the coffee shop.

“Tenure doesn’t mean shit when you mess with the Ashfords.”

Lincoln’s eyes widen as two of the men grab him, pulling him away. “Wait, I didn’t know what she was. I didn’t mean to—”

“You broke the university’s code of conduct and attacked a prospective bride. You’re done for.”

I bite my lip to hide my satisfied smile as the ex-professor is dragged out of the coffee shop, his haughtiness quickly replaced by desperate pleading.

I turn back to Gabriel, and my heart sinks as he gives me a curt nod. “Well then, shall we?”


“Louise,” I hiss as I walk into the apartment.

My roommate looks up from her perch at the kitchen island. She and June are hunched over a textbook, and June is scribbling into her notes with a pencil.

“Spring!” My sister pushes off the stool and heads for me, wrapping her skinny arms around my waist.

“Hi, Summer,” I mumble, shooting Louise a glare over her head.

“Lou, can we talk?”

My roommate smirks as she stands. “Continue your homework hon, I’ll be back soon.”

I grab Louise's arm and drag her into my room. “What did you do?” I ask as soon as the door closes.

She blinks, widening her eyes innocently. “Me? Whatever do you mean?”

“This isn’t funny, Lou. Did you submit an application for me?”

She shrugs.

“Lou!”

“What?” she laughs, “I thought it’d be fun. I entered too, what’s the harm?”

“I got shortlisted.”

This time, her wide eyes hold surprise. “Seriously?”

I nod. “Freaking bodyguards showed up at my work today to inform me.”

“Oh my God, April!” She hugs me, but I don’t return her embrace.

“I can’t see him again, Lou,” I whisper.

“Who?”

“Nathan.”

She pulls back. “You actually know him?”

I scoff. “Know him, been humiliated by him.”

Her gaze softens. “Oh, babe, I didn’t know you had bad history. I never would have entered you if I did.”

I sigh, slumping onto the bed, the reality of the situation dawning on me. I can’t believe I’m going to see Nathan Ashford again. I’m going to compete for his hand in marriage.

Is it even a competition? Or do we just line up as the heirs take their pick?

Is he going to recognize me? Will he humiliate me afresh?

“April,” Louise says softly, sitting next to me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Lou, you didn’t know.”

“What can I do?”

I stand, heading for the small closet June and I share. “You can help me pack a bag for June. We have to leave in the morning.”


“Wow!” June twirls in a circle, taking in the sprawling magnificence of the Ashford estate.

I chuckle, as I get down from the limo behind her. After passing through the main gate, we drove for about fifteen minutes, during which June had her nose pressed against the window, drinking in the meticulously landscaped lawn, the huge trees, the gorgeous flower gardens. We drove through a pathway that led through the property and passed fountains and ponds.

And now, we’re in front of the outdoor terrace, expertly decorated for the event—the welcoming of the bridal candidates.

As we walk towards the crowd, June takes in the splendor of our surroundings, and I take in the competition.

I’ve never felt more out of place before in my life.

Every girl here is drop-dead gorgeous and dressed to the nines in finery I would need to save up for a year to afford. And I’m here—plain Jane, in a dress I borrowed from Lou that I know for a fact is thrift.

June tugs on my hand, and I turn my attention to her. “They have a chocolate fountain, Spring,” she says excitedly.

I bite my lip worriedly. “Summer…”

“Please?” She pouts. “I’ve had my morning shot, and I won’t take too much.”

I sigh, unable to resist her plea. “Fine.” I let her pull me toward the large table spread with all kinds of food—hors d'oeuvres, cookies, cupcakes, fruit platters, mini hamburgers…the list goes on and on.

Distracted as my sister dips strawberries into the chocolate fountain, I eye the girls around me again, feeling increasingly self-conscious.

What am I doing here? If these are the people I’m up against, I don’t stand a chance. I should just leave before I’m further humiliated.

“Spring, do you want a cup—”

My eyes widen as a shrill shriek threatens to burst my eardrums, and I turn to my sister in a panic.

“June?!”

She’s holding a smeared cupcake and blinking at the girl in front of her. I follow my sister’s gaze to see the huge frosting stain on the girl’s pale white dress.

“You filthy little shit!” the girl shrieks, glaring at June.

I grab my sister’s hand and shove her behind me, standing between them. “I’m so sorry, it was an accident,” I say to the girl. She’s absolutely gorgeous, with midnight-black hair and dark blue eyes—eyes that are currently filled with hatred and scorn.

“What’s an accident is letting you two be here,” she spits venomously. “Shouldn’t you be in the servant’s quarters scrubbing dishes?”

I clench my jaw, aware of every eye on the terrace on us. “We’re not servants,” I reply with a calm that belies the anger her words ignite. “I’m a bridal candidate.”

The girl scoffs and eyes me, disdain filling her gaze. “You must be fucking joking.”

I roll my eyes and turn to June. “Summer, are you okay?”

June nods, her eyes wide and glassy. “I’m so sorry,”

“Hey, it’s—”

A hand grabs my shoulder and spins me back around forcefully. “Don’t turn your back on me, you filthy bitch!” the girl screeches as she shoves me hard.

I gasp as I lose my footing and feel myself start to fall.

Wonderful, I think in the split second that I hover in the air. This is what I get for thinking I belong anywhere near Nathan Ashford.

But I don’t slam into the hard ground like I anticipated. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist, catching me mid-way and pulling me to a warm, firm body.

I look up at my savior, and a small squeak escapes my parted lips as my heart thunders so loud, I’m sure everyone in the estate can hear it.

Nathan Ashford.

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