Chapter 4 Unspoken Tension

• The second morning at the Ashford estate began smoother than Rose expected. The nerves from her first day had reduced and replaced with a quiet determination to do well. By now, she had learned Ella wakes up early. so Rose arrived promptly at seven, greeted at the door by the cool morning air and the usual polite nods from the staff.
• As she stepped inside, the vastness of the mansion didn’t feel quite as intimidating as it had a day earlier. There was something about the routine, the structure of the place, that grounded her. And of course, there was Ella.
• She found the little girl in the playroom, sitting her leg crossed on the carpet, carefully stacking blocks into what looked like the beginnings of a castle. At the sound of Rose’s footsteps, Ella looked up, her whole face brightening as if the sun had just walked into the room.
• “Rosie!” she squealed, scrambling to her feet and throwing her arms around Rose’s waist.
• Rose laughed softly, hugging her back. “Good morning, princess. Did you sleep well?”
• Ella nodded eagerly. “Daddy read me a bedtime story.”
• Rose blinked, surprised. “He did?”
• “Well… sort of,” Ella giggled, pulling away. “He read a little, then said I had to go to sleep. But it still counts!”
• “That absolutely counts,” Rose agreed, smiling as she brushed a stray curl from Ella’s forehead. It was an unexpected glimpse into a different side of Christian Ashford one that wasn’t all sharp edges and cool indifference. Maybe there was more to him than his icy exterior.
• After helping Ella tidy up the blocks, Rose led her downstairs for breakfast. She expected to leave Ella with the kitchen staff and then begin organizing the day's activities. But as they entered the dining room, Rose stopped short.
• Christian was already there.
• Seated at the head of the long table, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, he looked as if he had just stepped straight out of a Vogue magazine . Sharp jaw, sleek hair, and a cold focus on the tablet in front of him. He barely glanced up as they entered, his expression unreadable.
• Ella, however had no such reservations. She hurried over to his side, tugging on the sleeve of his suit jacket.
• “Daddy, can Rosie eat with us?” she asked, her big brown eyes hopeful.
• Rose froze. This wasn’t part of her job. Sharing meals with the boss of the house? Definitely not in the contract.
• Christian's gaze shifted to Rose, assessing her as if deciding whether she was worth the disruption to his morning. After a brief pause, he gave a small nod. “Fine.”
• “Thank you,” Rose murmured, taking a seat beside Ella and across from Christian, her heart beating a little faster than she cared to admit.
• The table was a work of art. Fresh fruit placed on porcelain plates, eggs cooked to perfection. Buttery pastries arranged in neat rows. And the coffee strong, dark, and emitting great aroma. It was practically calling her name.
• For a few minutes, the only sounds were the clinking of silverware and the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. Christian sipped his coffee with the air of a man who tolerated mornings rather than enjoyed them.
• Desperate to cut through the awkward silence, Rose cleared her throat. “So... busy day ahead?”
• Christian looked up slowly, as though the question mildly surprised him. “Always.”
• Ella giggled into her orange juice. “Daddy doesn’t like mornings.”
• Christian shot her a look that might have scolded anyone else, but Ella just grinned, unbothered.
• Rose smiled, emboldened. “I can see that.”
• Ella pointed her fork at Rose. “Do you like mornings?”
• “Not really,” Rose admitted. “But I like breakfast.”
• For a moment a moment Christian’s lips almost curved. Not quite a smile, but the ghost of one, as if he’d forgotten himself.
• It wasn’t exactly a warm, family meal. But it was... something. A start, maybe.
• Later that afternoon, Rose took Ella out to the gardens for some fresh air. The air was crisp, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the lawn. Ella ran ahead, pretending to be a fairy queen gathering flowers for her kingdom, and Rose watched her with quiet affection.
• For the first time in a long while, Rose felt the slightest sense of peace. Like maybe this job could be more than just a paycheck. Maybe, for once, she’d found a place where she belonged.
• That feeling lasted exactly six minutes.
• A Porsche black car rolled to a stop in the driveway, the engine purring before falling silent. Rose glanced over, expecting it to be a delivery or maybe one of the staff’s vehicles. But the moment the driver’s door opened, the energy in the air shifted.
• A woman stepped out.
• Tall, elegant, and dressed in an outfit that screamed luxury. Long brown hair fell down her back in perfect waves. Designer sunglasses shielded her eyes, but even from a distance, there was an unmistakable confidence in her stride, a woman who knew exactly how much attention she commanded.
• And the way the staff suddenly froze at the sight of her told Rose everything she needed to know.
• This wasn’t just anyone.
• “Amy,” the butler greeted stiffly from the doorway.
• Amy.
• Christian’s ex-fiancé.
• Rose felt Ella move closer, her small hand slipping into hers.
• As Amy approached, she removed her sunglasses with deliberate slowness, her gaze landing on Rose. She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. It was the kind of smile that felt like a blade cutting between your ribs.
• “And who,” Amy asked smoothly, voice dripping with false sweetness, “might you be?”
• Rose straightened, instinctively protective. “I’m Ella’s nanny.”
• Amy’s smile sharpened. “Oh. How... adorable.”
• The words were simple. But the way she said them made Rose’s stomach twi
• st.
• Trouble had just arrived.
• And Rose had a sinking feeling this was only the beginning.