Take out the trash

Ashley's POV

"Ley… Are you okay?" Lydia's voice broke through my shock.

Ley. A name no one had called me since my grandparents passed. I forced a small smile and picked up my fork, but my appetite had vanished. My stomach twisted, the food I had just eaten threatening to resurface.

"Ashley?" My husband's cold, commanding voice cut through my haze. I barely glanced at him before my gaze returned to the cars. "What's wrong?" he demanded. 

How could I tell him? That I knew those cars by heart. I had bought them, one after the other, for different occasions, for people I thought mattered. The white Range Rover? Mine. A gift to myself for convenience—to visit my parents, to shop without waiting for Edward to pick me up after work.

The gray Porsche? A celebration gift for my ex-husband when he secured the Noblesse contract—a monumental achievement for the company and, back then, for us. I had chosen his favorite model and his favorite color. And the black Mercedes? A desperate attempt to ease my parents' struggles, to silence my mother's endless complaints about financial burdens. I had even provided a bank card with monthly deposits to help them. But my generosity had only led me here, fighting for my life at the mercy of their betrayal. The children rushed toward the new arrivals, their excitement cutting through my viral thoughts. Ian stood, motioning for the staff to collect the goods they brought. And there she was.

Samantha. Sitting behind the wheel of my car, smug and victorious. She had won. Alexandria shifted beside me. "You can stay with Lydia," he murmured, placing the little girl in my arms. I welcomed the excuse to stay put, holding her close as we watched them flaunt money that wasn't theirs. The warmth in Alexandria's demeanor disappeared. The man beside me was no longer the composed, smiling host... His expression was cold, his eyes sharp.

Samantha fluttered her lashes like a desperate peacock, but neither Alexandria nor Ian spared her a glance. She wasn't a woman who could command their attention."Why is she all over Alex? Doesn't she know he's married?" Lydia muttered, rubbing her tired eyes. I chuckled softly. "Are you angry because you're protective of me?" She pouted. "No… maybe."

I wasn't angry. Not anymore. Edward had taught me the hardest lesson of my life—no man who values his wife allows another woman to come between them, let alone his wife's younger sister. And Alexandria Hale? He was a man of power, one who could smell desperation from a mile away. Samantha reeked of it. 

"Well, well, look who we have here." My mother's taunting voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I looked at Lydia. Her tiny face was peaceful, asleep in my arms. Such an innocent soul. She deserved calm, not this. "Hello, Mrs. Coyle," I said, my voice even. "So nice to finally meet you." My mother scoffed, shooting Samantha a look. My sister instantly abandoned her failed seduction attempts and joined her.

"See this, baby?" My mother sneered. "From a leading CEO to a nanny. How the mighty have fallen." I chuckled, her words rolling off me. I owed them nothing. "I think you're mistaken. I was never a CEO. I own my company, but I've never run the day-to-day operations."

Samantha scoffed. "Yeah, right." My mother's lips curled. "Ashley, drop the act. Alexandria Hale isn't here to clean up after you. We all know you just want to crawl into his bed. But guess what? Edward will tell him everything... who you really are. The slut you've always been." I tilted my head. Wasn't she the slut?

"You're trash," she added, her voice filled with malice. Enough.

I met her gaze without flinching, then signaled a staff member. He hurried to my side, awaiting my orders. 

"Take the trash out," I said evenly, shifting Lydia in my arms. "Trash belongs in the dumpster, not inside the house. Lydia isn't feeling well, and I won't have her exposed to filth."

The silence that followed my words was deafening. My mother's face twisted with rage, Samantha's smug expression faltered, and for the first time, uncertainty flickered in her eyes."Excuse me?" My mother's voice was laced with disbelief, her nostrils flaring as she took a step toward me.

"What? You don't like being thrown out? Isn't that what you did to your daughter?" A swift panic swept through them, but it was soon replaced with pride. Samantha smiled like one who just won some lottery.

"You wouldn't dare, not when Edward Camfrey brings in so much for the children," she said, crossing her hands. "You think you're so high and mighty just because you're playing house with Alexandria? Please. He's just using you, Ashley. Just like every other man before him." From the side, his eagle eyes watched my every move and word. I dare no waver, not when I have received constant reminders to not associate myself with Ashley Camfrey; she was gone and now was time to prove it. 

"You assume too much, Samantha," I replied, voice calm, "just like you assume I am your sister; yes, we may look alike like the gossip concluded, but I would never be her. Now get out before I have the gaurds drag you like the scum you." My mother's lips curled into. Lydia stirred in my arms, her small fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. That was my cue to end this madness. I looked up at the staff member who stood waiting for instructions. 

"Escort them out."

"Don't you dare." My mother's words were cut short as two of Alexandria's men stepped forward, their presence imposing enough to make her falter.

Ian, who had remained silent throughout the ordeal, finally spoke, his tone almost amused. "You really don't know when to stop, do you?" He turned toward Alexandria's men and jerked his chin. "You heard the lady. Take out the trash